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#never NEVER thought i'd reach it when i started out... the warmth here is incredible :((
taegularities · 1 year
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positively overwhelmed by this huge ass milestone </3
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hello! I'm glad you're feeling better and I'm so happy to have all these new works and updates to read.
If you have any more ideas for it, I'd love to see more from the "claimed by fire" fic
Hey thanks anon, I loved writing claimed by fire, I’m happy to add more.
Magnus is just weaving the last web of the cruelly tight secrecy geas, when the magic monitoring Alexander goes off.
He finishes with a flare of magic that is inconsiderate for its victims' pain. The geas sets into the souls of all who have learned of Magnus’ treasure and Magnus portals away as soon as it clicks into place.
Alexander’s eyes are already open when he gets there. His hand is stretched out, like he’s been reaching for Magnus across the bed.
And Magnus wasn’t there.
Magnus grabs his hand, holding it tightly as he presses kisses to each knuckle and then sets his teeth to worry a mark on Alec’s wrist.
Alexander untenses, relief in his face but something dark in his eyes.
“What’s wrong, darling? What do you need?”
“You left. I could feel it, could feel you even asleep. And suddenly you were gone, your warmth, your magic, your hands.” Alexander’s eyes are gleaming with tears and his lip trembles, “you left me here.”
Magnus knows that new bonds are fragile but this is so new to him. He didn’t realize how delicate the balance is.
“Then I won’t make that mistake again, sayang. When I leave from now on, you’ll go with me.” Because while Magnus cannot bear the thought of Alexander in danger, he too feels the chasm opening between them when they part.
He had thought he was only hurting himself with his actions, he never imagined Alexander would feel that same ache when so deeply asleep.
“Good.” Alexander says, a pout on his mouth as he curls closer to Magnus, a moth seeking a flame. “But you still left.”
“Ah,” Magnus has to hide a smile and schools his face into a serious look. “I did. How should I make it up to you, Alexander?”
Alec can’t hide his pleased smirk, or the hungry gleam of his eyes as he presses his cheek to Magnus’ thigh and rubs against him. Magnus has to swallow, his mouth suddenly dry.
His soulmate is a little minx.
Magnus is thrilled.
“Kisses.” Alec finally tells him, “you weren’t here to kiss me awake. You should fix that.”
And Magnus is helpless to do anything but obey.
Alexander almost falls asleep after they finish, but the moment Magnus starts to leave he’s awake. Alert and aware, all the dazed pleasure gone and replaced by a glower.
“I’m merely moving to my office,” Magnus tells him. He’s helpless with how endearing he finds Alexander’s grumpiness.
Alec huffs and then gets up, his muscles shivering as he forces them into motion. Magnus isn’t sure if he’s still unsteady from pleasure; or a life lacking luxury and safety.
“Then I’ll rest in there.” Alec says, voice sulky like this should have something Magnus thought of.
And it might have been, if Magnus weren’t still adjusting to having someone who wants him. Every piece of him and every moment with him.
He can’t help it. He scoops Alexander into his arms, his soulmate yelping from surprise. Alec settles into his hold immediately after, hooking his arms smugly around Magnus’ neck.
He looks incredibly pleased and —while Magnus will never do his soulmate the disservice of comparing him to any of Magnus’ ex lovers— Magnus can’t help but notice that Alexander’s quiet joy from something so simple, eclipses Camille’s awe at the many extravagant and rare presents Magnus gifted her with.
Magnus laughs and kisses Alec’s nose, sitting in his armchair with Alexander snugly in his lap.
“Alright, then. I’ll take the opportunity to tell you about my dearest companions, Catarina and Ragnor. Oh, and I should explain a bit of the Council of Elders, they’re a bit important.”
Magnus portals them into the waiting room of the Labyrinth, confident in his and Alexander’s appearance and timely arrival.
There are quite a few warlocks present and Alec looks over them curiously, wondering which are Magnus’ friends and if any are enemies.
“Oh! What’s this? Magnus brought someone to the Labyrinth?” A warlock calls out, chortling as he waves at them. “That’s a first since Camille.”
“Whose Camille?” Alec asks and a different person laughs obnoxiously, as if he’s said a grand joke.
“Only one of Magnus’ worst attempts at a relationship.” The man guffaws; oblivious to the sudden and fierce rage on Magnus’ face and the cold mask sliding over Alec’s. “She broke his heart so many times, I’m surprised he still has one to share.”
There’s silence beyond the laughter as several people wince, not realizing how bad a mistake has been made, but knowing that one has been.
Alec gives the speaker a viciously withering look and walks out of the room, his foot violently connecting with the man’s chair and sending him still laughing to the floor.
Magnus follows him, but Alec doesn’t stop.
“Darling, I think you are misunderstanding something.” Is said behind him, fingers brush his sleeve and Alec viciously jerks his arm away.
There are tears in his eyes and his heart hurts.
Like it did before he met Magnus.
He’s spent so long waiting for Magnus, that it never occurred to him Magnus wouldn’t wait as well.
It’s stupid.
He tells himself bitterly as he ignores Magnus’ voice and the calls of his name. The stairs he finds are coiling and massive and he runs up them without regard for his muscles or his lungs.
He wants to break everything, including himself.
Magnus has been alive for eight hundred years. Of course he wouldn’t wait. But Alec thought that even if he had sex elsewhere that he’d guard his heart.
How could he let someone break his heart —multiple times at that— before Alec even had a chance to love him.
Is there even any room for Alec, or is his heart too wary and scarred for Alec to have any place there?
Alec doesn’t realize the worry of being not enough —he’s never enough— is sending him spiraling until he’s out of breath. He’s choking on his own pain and panic and then he’s being viciously knocked into a wall.
He fights for a half a second before he recognizes Magnus and then he snarls to hide his sobs.
Alexander runs and Magnus follows, furious at himself and his peers as he runs.
Someone else will explain to both Evander and Dominic the colossal mister they just made, and Magnus prays to Lilith that Dominic at least will avoid an in person apology. Because depending on how this conversation goes —and it’s not looking good considering Alec’s still running— Magnus may require his death as the apology.
Everyone was supposed to know that Magnus was bringing his soulmate. A sacred connection he’s been blessed with after centuries of waiting. And instead, he and his incredibly new soulmate were smacked in the face with Magnus’ deepest regrets.
Camille.
It broke something in Magnus, to hear her foul name pass Alexander’s lips. And now, to have Alec fleeing him, avoiding —flinching— from Magnus’ touch.
It’s devastating.
So when Alexander climbs the stairs, Magnus chases, until Alec starts to shake, nearly falling but still running. And then Magnus boosts himself with magic and slams his boy into the walls of the Labyrinth.
“Do not run from me.” Magnus snarls, body pinning Alexander's struggling frame to the wall. His hands cup Alec’s face so he can’t look away. “Do not ever run from me again, Alexander.” And then, with Alec’s tear filled, tortured gaze meeting his own, he presses his lips to the corner of Alexander’s lips and murmurs, “my Alexander, do you really think I would ever let you go?”
Alexander huffs and scoffs at him, trying to pretend there aren’t tears rolling down his cheeks or that half the reason he can’t breathe is because he’s holding back sobs.
Magnus licks away his tears and presses kisses to Alexander’s face, ignoring how he tries to shy away.
“What will it take, sayang? What do I need to do to rid you of this feeling? You’re hurting so much, my heart.”
Alexander shudders against him and his hands are like vices from where they clamp to Magnus’ waist.
“If you say I’m your heart, then your heart is mine. But you let her hurt your heart, Magnus.” Alexander finally says, devastating in his sorrow. “Your heart is mine, she should have never touched it.”
And Magnus, Magnus knows it’s wrong to enjoy this, but Alexander’s pain and possessive anger is so sweetly intoxicating.
“You’re right, angel.” Magnus concedes gently and presses a little closer, using magic to cushion Alexander’s back. “I should have been more patient, but I was younger then. Too angry with the world for denying me you, that I looked for comfort elsewhere. Sometimes,” and Magnus sighs and admits, “sometimes anywhere. I wasn’t kind to my heart, sayang, but—“ and Magnus catches Alexander’s chin and forces their gaze to meet.
“I will never, ever let anyone touch the heart you have given me. I will bathe the world in the blood of anyone who tries to take you from me. I will not suffer another to hurt you, to touch you, perhaps even to talk to you.” Magnus says idly; his thumb presses to Alexander’s plush mouth. “I would destroy the very foundations of this world, to make you happy. And I will collapse entire realms to keep you safe. If you must, judge my lack of self-care, Alexander, but you must Webber doubt my devotion or adoration of you.”
He kisses Alec before he can respond. Tangles their tongues and licks in deeply, chasing away his panic with pleasure. Alexander whimpers against him, bites Magnus’ tongue until it bleeds and then suckles the blood away like that simple little nip was him doling out punishment.
It’s so very charming.
“Magnus.” A calm, soothing voice interrupts them and magic flares in a shield about him. It recognizes the other presence and allows it to approach and Magnus finally pulls away from the temptation of Alexander's lips to greet Catarina.
He’s pulled back into another, deeper kiss before he has to forcibly gentle Alexander and keep him still.
“Darling, I’ll give you as many kisses as you want, but catch your breath first.” Magnus promises, and then he forgets his own words to kiss Alexander thrice more before actually pulling himself away.
Cat is watching him with an indulgent smirk but her eyes are both watchful and sad. It makes sense that she was summoned to fetch them. She and Ragnor are the only two who can approach him while he’s like this.
The only two he would allow to approach Alexander during this.
Alexander looks warily at Cat over Magnus’ shoulder and Magnus kisses his cheek absently.
“It’s alright, sayang. This is Catarina.” And Alexander immediately relaxes, knowing from the quick stories Magnus told how important Ragnor and Catarina are to him. “Cat, you’ve come to soothe the savage beast, I see?”
Cat scoffs at his words and shakes her head, they both know that if Magnus was actually feral, she would have joined him in his battles.
“The Elders would like to welcome you and your soulmate, and apologize for the poor hospitality our people have shown.”
She gives Alexander a welcoming nod, but keeps her attention on Magnus.
Alexander scoffs and burrows closer to Magnus. Cat raises a brow questioningly and when Magnus mouths ‘Camille’ at her, Cat’s aura flickers with her protective anger. No previous relationships should ever be mentioned lightly around a newly found soulbond and to bring up Camille, it could have created a tragedy.
Magnus settles a little, knowing that Cat will take care of things until Magnus can get to them.
“If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you both to the Council.” Cat says and turns, offering her back and walking back down the long stairs. Alec follows only when Magnus guides him, arm around his waist.
Magnus is half tempted to throw Alexander over his shoulder and carry him down. Instead he activated his personal maze array. They get to the Elders in a quarter of the time Magnus spent chasing Alexander with the array active. And Alexander stares in curiosity as doors appear before them, Magnus smiles at his quiet awe and waves his hand in a grand flourish. Cat laughs at his antics before she opens the doors and says:
“Welcome, Magnus and Alec. To the Council of Elders.”
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pockavas · 5 months
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Halsin - trusting you fears, Part 2
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Walking back to the camp, her dirty clothes close at hand, Ross never looked back, unwilling to show weakness and pity. Halsin was right about himself and she understood that completely, he had really vital issues to deal with, and he had never said anything outright to her, just veiled sweet words that were used to flirt, but nothing direct.
And just how influential was this druid. There were other attractive men in the camp, Astarion, Gale, Wyll, but their obvious and direct attempts to gain her attention proved unsuccessful. She could have been with any of them, but she didn't want to. The temptation that Halsin represented was as great as himself. Without making too much of an effort, without being vulgar, or obvious, like fog drifting down a river. It's just that at some point you find yourself immersed in it and you can't see anything else.
Preoccupied with her thoughts, she did not realize when she reached the camp, the fire was burning, someone had put meat to roast, and judging by the pleasant smell, it was marinated with herbs. No doubt the handiwork of Gale, who had more than once boasted of his culinary skills.
Ross let out a sharp sigh, determined to put aside the meeting by the river and let events flow.
Days have passed, the group was making good progress towards the Shadowlands, but the journey has been incredibly fraught with dangers along the way. They often came across groups of fanatics calling on the name of the Absolute.
One encounter stood out from the rest when the enemy had captured civilians, ordinary people in the wrong place at the wrong time. In such situations, one could not just storm the camp and start the slaughter, but think more about the strategy to get the captives out alive. The battle was fierce as always, bloody, but the mission was accomplished.
There was no way there wouldn't be blood spilled among the group, a few more scratches, cuts here and there.
Ross had also decided not to be distracted, to make no mistakes, to follow Halsin's path. Yet he always sat in the corner of her mind, a nagging but sweet thought of a sweet temptation waiting to be tasted. She wondered if that was the case with him. Their relationship continued normally, with pleasant conversations around the campfire, sometimes light casual banter. At times, she caught him staring at her, and she was sure it happened the rest of the time.
After sending the civilians to safety, they all returned to camp, fussed over their health conditions, nothing fatal, and headed for their tents.
Ross, however, was in no condition to lie down. Adrenaline still held her, and sleep was a very distant mirage. A mischievous idea crossed her mind, one related to Astarion's stock of wine and sweet liquor. Nimble and deft, she stole a bottle of fruit liqueur, with the color of blood and the aroma of sweet raspberries.
Holding the bottle in her hand, she walked away from the camp to a small clearing overlooking the forest, the camp behind her. She uncorked the bottle and sipped from the pint of liquid that burned down her throat and all the way to her stomach.
After a few minutes the effects of the battle began to wear off, her head felt light, her body began to ache, especially a burning sensation around her right ribs. What was wrong?
As she fumbled with her armor to get to the problem, she heard soft and heavy footsteps behind her, familiar, she knew who it was.
"-You finally decided to share a drink with me?" - she asked without turning around. Halsin was already standing beside her, illuminated by the moonlight, his expression a mixture of concern, softness, and warmth.
"-I saw you didn't go back to your tent, I thought I'd check if you're okay. I'm glad I came, you smell too much of blood, something's wrong. Let me check."
Ross grimaced in annoyance, the alcohol must have been taking its toll because there was no way Halsin was going to annoy her in any way.
"-Of course, go ahead, I'm all yours!" she exclaimed, raising her hands to the sides as if surrendering.
Halsin stood in front of her and knelt, their eyes locked. Without asking her permission further, Halsin began to unfasten her armor.
He himself was still covered in spatters of blood that had dried long ago, and yet his characteristic musky scent wafted from him, carrying promises of forest, of strength, of masculinity.
If she indulged in the musk, Ross would be out of control, especially with her head dizzy from the liquor. She was aware of that. Ross took another big gulp, frowning at the burning sensation in her throat. She was standing with her head turned away, right now she couldn't look at him and not be affected.
Halsin had already removed the armor, found the cause of his alarm. A scratch from an arrow, medium deep, tore skin and very little muscle, but looked terrible.
"-You should have stayed at the camp so I could take care of your wound in time. Something smells in here."- saying this Halsin tore the garment further to better reveal the wound, leaning forward trying to smell the tear.
Ross's head spun even more, to be so close to her after this hard day, to touch her, caress her gently with his big hands. Ross drank again, whether for courage or oblivion, she closed her eyes.
Halsin could fully see Ross' agitation, but he was too preoccupied with the appearance of the strange wound. He always enjoyed her presence no matter where they were or what they were doing.
Halsin tried to clean the dried blood around the cut with his fingers. His touch, gentle and caring, made the hairs on Ross's neck stand on end. Apparently the alcohol wasn't enough to intoxicate her completely and to be able to shrug off its influence.
Halsin was lost in his preoccupation, he closed his eyes and muttered a silent prayer, a soft light shining from his palm, directed at the wound. The skin there began to glow, a tickling sensation running up Ross's ribcage up her spine, making her gasp and forget to exhale, eyes wide.
After a few moments the ritual was over, the light was gone, but the tear was not completely gone.
"-Hmm, it should have been completely erased..."- Halsin frowned in surprise and irritation and began to feel the place -"How does it feel? Does it hurt, is it numb? How would you describe the feeling here?"- he continued to touch, gently patting the place with his left hand and placed his right on her shoulder.
How does it feel? Every touch of his was warm, wanted, and not enough, because she knew it purpose, and wanted it to be something else. Her pulse quickened, she could no longer control herself, she was breathing heavily. She turned her head to Halsin, her gaze as thirsty as it was insanely drunk, with a hint of anger.
"- What do I feel, Halsin? "-she took his hand that was on her shoulder and put it between her breasts, on her heart-" I feel that my heart is racing, rushing, beating madly, the veins in my neck will burst, my temples protest against the pressure, my head is spinning. See for yourself, feel for yourself! You are a healer, Halsin, tell me what's wrong with me?"
Of course Halsin sensed all this, he was not blind to the blush on her cheeks, the sparkle in her eyes. He knew it wasn't from the alcohol, because he had seen her get a lot of people drunk in the camp and get up and carry on as if it hadn't happened.
Her whole body was on fire. A flame that Halsin wanted to absorb, to burn him until he was nothing but ashes. With his palm still over her heart, Halsin leaned into Ross, forehead resting against hers, his left hand gripping a strand of hair between his fingers.
Then he pulled from his waist bag the jar of perfumed oil he had retrieved weeks ago from the stream.
"- The other day you forgot it, I took it away, but I was waiting for an opportune moment to return it to you. Even when it was closed, I could smell the scent that reminded me of you during the nights."
"-It's been with you the whole time? I thought I'd lost it." - a small gesture that meant a lot to her, but she suspected he kept it for somewhat selfish reasons, "to remind him of her at night."
"- I don't know whether to be grateful that you are returning it to me, flattered that you like it or angry because I could have been with you instead of it!"- anger rose in her chest, her heart beat even faster, the world again turned around.
"-I know, I should have returned it to you earlier, but you know how much I love honey, and you... You're like honey...I couldn't part with the vessel."- Halsin took a deep breath, his broad strong chest puffed out, and exhaled loudly. His feelings for her had not diminished, on the contrary, they grew stronger every day, the desires too, often Ross was present in his dreams, alongside the nightmares of the Shadow Curse. It was not yet the time to be distracted, to indulge in his dreams.
The gust of warm air from Halsin "hit" Ross on the neck, the heat running through her entire body and her reaction was lightning fast.
Before Halsin could react, Ross grabbed both of his wrists, and using all of her remaining strength, managed to knock him onto the grass onto his back, an effort that took a lot, considering Halsin's size and strength. Still holding him, Ross straddled him, burying her face in his powerful neck, breathing in his masculine scent of forest, of sweat, of strength, of bear.
"-I'm going crazy... You're driving me crazy... I lose control just when you're next to me, and I know I shouldn't. I don't lose control! Not anymore, I learned a long time ago to keep my composure, not to give in, and you.. .. It's just You! With all your presence...."
"-Ross, I told you that now I must think of nothing but the curse, but obviously nature has her plans... Which sooner or later will come to fruition, and until then... It's not easy, I know, to fight against what is thrust into you, I do it every day..."
Ross had let go of his wrists, standing predator-like over her still-living prey, a mouth full of sharp teeth resting against his neck. She was unable to stay still, grunting and slashing, almost sinking her teeth into the muscles of his neck. Her mind and consciousness rebelled and fought with each other, why did it have to be so complicated, good so hard to come by, even though right now "good" was right below her, between her legs and, next to her face.
Halsin could feel how tense she was, every part of her body, like a spring, ready to take a bite out of him. He made a huge effort to remain the more sensible of the two, to resist her voiceless call, placing his hands on her waist. His palms so wide, enough to encircle her almost entirely.
Ross writhed and howled between them, breathing it in, he could see that her years in the wild had made her more animalistic, more primal, like a cat, and how he wanted to go wild with her...
"-Halsin, I...I'll try...I'm trying to be self-aware...I'm going to catch our breakfast...Don't try to follow me!"- saying this, Ross nimbly jumped away from Halsin, ran towards the forest and quickly sank into it. Halsin lay like that in the grass for a moment, then sat up, staring in her direction and wondering what he had unleashed, he hadn't seen her like this. What was she going to do alone in the forest, was she safe? He buried his face in his palms, they smelled of her, he inhaled and exhaled, still could feel her, sitting on top of him, her young tense body. Shivers ran down his spine, a sweet smile on his face that was replaced by concern for Ross and the strange wound that didn't heal right away. He knew there was no point in going after her, not because she had told him so, but because he knew enough of her skills, to disappear without a trace, to sink into the shadows like a predator.
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shimmer-like-agirl · 1 year
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WIP Wednesday
Tagged by @wanderingaldecaldo to share something I'm working on. Do you know how long it's been since I've actually written something worth posting??? Spoiler alert, it's been an incredibly long time! This wasn't helped at all by Darisha deciding she wasn't actually a V after all and making me rework everything I'd written. I still love her dearly, despite the recent curveball
Anyway, enough rambling. Here's Darisha's introduction to Night City in all its glory. I don't think this piece is done yet, it's really only a first chapter, but she'll tell me when it's done (I hope)
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The Untapped Goldmine
Northside, Watson, Night City
Saturday, May 22, 2077
Applause.
It wasn't a stretch to say it was her lifeblood. To Darisha's mind, there was very little difference between it and the air she needed to breathe. On a good night, the applause, the symbol of validation from the crowd, wrapped her in an embrace of acceptance and appreciation. Its warmth mingled with that of the spotlights, almost tangible, like she could reach out and grab a handful to save for the colder, less giving nights.
Nights like this one.
The Untapped Goldmine was either a grossly accurate name or an absolute misnomer. She wasn't sure which, but after a week of performing to embarrassingly small crowds in an area that didn't come close to fitting her music's demographics, she no longer cared to unravel that particular mystery. Even her brand of sidewalk stomping self-marketing, imbued with her not-insignificant charm, had failed to make a mark in a territory owned by a borged-out gang with questionable musical tastes. Thankfully, this particular run was nearly over. The final notes of music faded into the ether. Darisha forced a weak smile in response to a smattering of applause, mumbled a few insincere thanks, and turned abruptly on her to leave the stage. She paused briefly when she passed by her long-time drummer, another relationship ending tonight. "When you return to Atlanta, tell Remy I hope he chokes on his own dick. And I mean that sincerely."
Descending the short flight of stairs that led to a ridiculously long hallway to her tiny dressing room, she pulled out her phone. Seven voicemails, one for each day she'd been in Night City, and a considerable number of increasingly aggressive text messages from Remy. She hadn't had the strength to face him during the last week, but she was now as ready as she would ever be.
Despite the repeated calls and messages, her call to him remained unanswered. Typical Remy and his power balance bullshit, she thought to herself. Conversations had to be on his terms, his timelines, so he had complete control of the narrative. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. Not this time.
The smooth baritone of his voicemail greeting gave her momentary pause. It threatened to surface good memories when all she wanted to focus on was bad. There was more than enough of the latter to fuel a raging inferno. She blinked back a couple of errant tears and set her mouth in a firm line, waiting for his casually scripted spiel to end.
"Fuck you, Remy," she spit to start her message. "Even for you, this is fucking low. You could've booked me anywhere in this city, but you had to have the last word. You just had to show me how little you cared for me by booking me into the shittiest shithole on the west coast."
Rolling her eyes at the indignant expression on the face of the backstage manager who was waiting just outside her dressing room, she momentarily turned her attention to him. "Don't give me that look. You know it's fucking true." She raised a slender finger to quiet anything he might say in response and turned her ire back to her one-sided conversation. "So yeah, fuck you, Remy. You got what you wanted. I'm out of your greasy, grimy clutches and your life. You're free to go fuck whoever you want and promise them all the same things you promised me and never delivered." She paused for a calming breath. "As for your beloved Rayfield, I had it filled with cement and dropped to the bottom of the ocean. Good luck getting it back."
The last word now hers, Darisha tossed the phone to the ground and smashed it forcefully, and more than a little therapeutically, with her heeled foot. With that handled, she turned her attention to the silently fuming and petulant backstage manager. "What!?"
"This isn't a shithole."
"All evidence to the contrary," she retorted with an eye roll.
"Are all Brits massive cunts like you?"
"Yes. Every single British person in the world is a massive cuntbag. I'm the nice one, so tread carefully if you meet another." She waited for him to move out of her way, sighing exasperatedly. "Anything else? I kinda want to get out of here."
"Someone is waiting in your dressing room." Eyes now downcast, he appeared to be deeply studying his shoes. "Said they know you."
Darisha crouched down slightly until she could look him in the eye again. "Naturally, you took them at their word and let them into my personal space. What harm could there possibly be in letting a stranger in Night City into your performer's dressing room?"
His answering shrug was irritating, more so when he turned to walk away without a word. Darisha grimaced, reached for the door handle, paused, and turned to yell after his quickly retreating form. "If I die in there, I promise to come back specifically to haunt you. And it won't be the fun kind, either. I'm talking blood pouring from the ceiling, disembodied screams while you shower, and a cold wind up your spine that'll make sure you lose your erection whenever you're about to fuck!"
Satisfied with her threat but still guarded, she stepped into the tiny room that had been her only area of respite for the last week. She let out a relieved breath upon recognizing the face of her mysterious and unannounced visitor. How could she not? Aside from cybernetics, they shared the same face, the same warm, dark skin, the same violet eyes, and the same fabulous Afro, although it was a darker blue rather than Darisha's vibrant purple. "Hello, Val," she greeted her sister quietly, relief giving way to anxiety. She hadn't spoken to her twin in over three years.
"I'm going by V now. Didn't you get the memo?" Even after a decade, she wasn't quite used to hearing her sister's American accent.
"I must've missed it. That tends to happen when one doesn't return her sister's phone calls."
V shrugged, unbothered, and changed the subject as was her way. "Who the fuck is Remy?"
There was so much she could say in answer to that. Three years of her life. Amazing highs, depressing lows, and never a mundane middle. "Ex-manager. Ex-input. Big mistake. Small dick."
"You're better off without him." Her sister wasn't wrong, but it had taken her the better part of a year to discover herself. V folded herself into the singular armchair in the room and directed a pointed look in her direction. "Speaking of things you're better than…Why are you still clinging to that fucking posh accent?"
"Because it's my fucking posh accent." Try as she might, she would never convince her sister that coming to America didn't mean evolving into a total American. "It's the only thing I have left of home." 
"You sound ridiculous," twin voices, though differently accented, chimed in unison before dissolving into shared laughter. In that instant, the years apart melted away, along with any resentment either might have felt. There was no way to explain it, but it was the way they'd always been.
"So….," V trailed off, looking at the surrounding area, taking in all her sister's belongings in a single room. "It sounds like you have no future plans? You feel like hangin' out in Night City awhile?"
She hadn't planned for the future beyond just getting through the week. "Better here than Atlanta, I guess. Gotta rebuild somewhere and here is as good a place as any." She looked around the tiny room that had doubled as a makeshift hotel during her stay. "Just not 'here'. I've had enough of this dump. I don't suppose you have an empty spot on your floor I could crash on until I get my feet under me?"
"Got something even better," her sister beamed. "What would you say to your own apartment, not far from here, paid up for the next two months by your favourite sister?"
"What's the catch?"
"Why's there gotta be a catch?"
"You're my sister, V. I know you. There's always a catch."
After a considerate silence, V nodded and shuffled over on the chair to give Darisha room to sit next to her. "I…uh fucked up pretty bad, and I need help. Your help, specifically."
"That doesn't sound ominous at all." She slid into the empty seat so that they were sitting shoulder to shoulder, leaning against each other for support as they'd done when they were kids. "How much trouble are you in?"
"Enough." Her sigh came heavily weighted. "Kinda life or death sitch. You know me, go big or go home." She sighed again and pressed her shoulder more firmly against that of her sister. "Mum always said I was my own worst enemy. Turns out she was right."
The story V proceeded to unravel would have been unbelievable to Darisha if it had come from the lips of anyone but her twin. A tale of a heist gone horribly wrong and a ticking time bomb of an engram in her head would seem far-fetched if it weren't for the absolute certainty in the eyes of her sister. 
"I've built a decent rep in this city, up until this fucking heist tanked, at least. There's shit I need to do to try and excise this tapeworm I've been saddled with. Problem is, I need the better rep and eddies that merc work gets me. All of that takes time and it's time that I don't got."
"What do you need me to do?" She asked the question without hesitation. 
"Be me. For a little while, at least. I've got good relationships with a fixer in Watson, and I can funnel the gigs I would take from her to you. You do them; we split the eddies. I get the rep I need, and you can keep whatever eddies you find while you do the job."
"I'm not killing anyone. You know I don't work like that." 
"I know, I know, you're a puppy-loving pacifist. I won't send you anything that requires ending someone's life. You can deal with the gigs however you want and keep your conscience clean. You don't even have to talk to the fixer or the client. I'll do all that and take my cut of the eddies."
The answer would have been no if it were anyone else in any other situation. Darisha hadn't done merc work in years, not since she'd started on her journey of becoming a singer. But this was her sister. Her twin's life was on the line, and she couldn't leave her hanging.
"We'll negotiate on the cut, but you've got a deal. I assume I can do whatever the fuck I want in my downtime. If I'm gonna be a part-time V, I'll need something to fill the rest of my time. May as well line up a few club gigs while I'm here." She'd need to find a new band and maybe a new manager, one that she wouldn't fall in love with this time. She could start writing songs again, which Remy had repeatedly discouraged her from doing, preferring her to perform covers rather than her original work. Her mind whirled with a dozen things to add to her to-do list, but she tamped them all down. First, she needed to get settled and help her sister. Then she could focus on herself.
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mypoisonedvine · 3 years
Text
Side Effects | Bruce Banner x reader
summary: you never know what might be in the beakers at another chemist's station. you never know which of your colleagues might come along just in the knick of time to become the only antidote to your affliction.
word count: 3.6k
warnings: smut! (dub con due to sex pollen), semi-public sex (because technically someone could have walked by but unlikely), guilt/hesitance, kinda pining??, fingering, creampie,
a/n: yes, this is an accurate depiction of emergency shower protocol in a chemical lab and yes it is every lab technician's worst nightmare. thankfully the other stuff is not an accurate depiction of any known chemical, lol.
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You wiped your forehead with a tired sigh, staring down at the calculations in front of you before using your pen to scribble over them before tearing out the page and throwing it away.
“You still do that by hand?” Bruce interjected, making you look up at where he was leaning in the doorway to the lab, watching you work.
“Oh, Dr. Banner!” you greeted with a smile, wondering if it was too ecstatic. You weren’t so good at the ‘playing it cool’ thing like he seemed to be.
“We have all those fancy screens and digital whiteboards, you know,” he explained as he stepped in and looked around at your work. “Not to mention the computer can do that stuff for you.”
“I know,” you scoffed, “but I always feel better doing it myself, on real paper. Not that I’m having any luck at the moment…”
"Here, I'll give them a quick look while you take a break," he offered, glancing at the numbers from over your shoulder. "You just get up and stretch your legs for a minute, doc."
You always thought it was sort of silly for him to call you that when he was a doctor as well, but you didn't complain.
Regardless, you were about to tell him that it was fine and you didn't need a break, but he was leaning in closer to take your seat and the proximity was so intimidating that you hopped up and went along with it anyways. He sat down and pondered your calculations while you circled the lab, taking a moment to appreciate how nice it felt to stand up and move around after sitting for so long.
"Your handwriting is…" Bruce trailed off, adjusting his glasses.
"Feminine and graceful?" you finished sarcastically.
"Sure," he chuckled.
"Yeah, just like me—" you started to quip, but mid-sentence you (ironically) stumbled and tripped, using a nearby table to catch yourself— but you accidentally grabbed onto a beaker, which tipped over and smashed onto the ground. The liquid inside spilled onto the floor just before you did, and you winced as you fell into the puddle of the unknown substance.
“Shit!” you hissed as you scrambled to get up, looking down at your clothes and seeing they were covered in the fluid, which was beginning to evaporate, or steam, or something. Remembering lab safety protocols, you instantly began to strip, closing your eyes and wishing Bruce hadn’t come in just before this. As you shirked your lab coat, shirt, and skirt, you walked to the emergency shower, pulling the lever and gasping when the chilly stream of water poured down on you. Bruce looked at you with wide eyes before being kind enough to turn around as you shivered and removed your bra and underwear, now completely naked and weakly scrubbing yourself with your hands in hopes that none of the chemical had gotten onto your skin.
“What is it?” he asked nervously, turning his head back enough that you could hear him over the flow of water, but hopefully not so much that he could see anything important.
“I don’t know,” you answered, “it’s not mine. It’s something Dr. Sutherland was working on…”
“Is it… are you in pain at all?” he asked, even more concerned, and you tried to decide if you could feel any effects.
“N-no…” you answered hesitantly. You felt hot, and strange, and you were covered in rolling chills, but you figured that was just the situation you were in— naked in a tepid shower in front of your coworker who just so happened to be incredibly sexy.
“I should call poison control,” Bruce offered as he reached for his cell phone.
“No, I’m fine,” you denied as the water flow slowed down and you wiped your face, confident that you looked like a complete mess— but at least you saved yourself from whatever was in that beaker, right?
“Here,” Bruce offered an emergency blanket to you after pulling it off a nearby shelf, and it was not at all absorbent but it helped with the draft as you stepped away from the shower which was still leaking the last few drops of water onto the drain on the floor.
“Thank you,” you nodded nervously, shivering and dripping and looking back at him with no idea what to say at all.
“Do you feel alright? I should check you for burns,” he suggested. “I— I won’t look…”
“Please,” you sighed, pulling the blanket a bit to expose your chest and stomach. He brushed his hand over the skin there, making you instantly whine as heat burned just under your skin, clouding your mind and making you crave even more.
"Did that hurt?" he asked anxiously, pulling away, but you stepped closer.
"No it's… it's good, it's so good."
He furrowed his brow as he looked down at you, putting the back of his hand to your forehead. "You're burning up, doc, you must be running a fever of 105."
"Touch me more, please," you whimpered. It was like you were in a dream, everything foggy and distant, and the only time that anything made sense was when he touched you. Or maybe it was that his touch sent you further into delirium; you couldn't be sure.
He gasped when he looked at your quivering legs only to find slick arousal running down the inside of them, threatening to drip onto the floor.
"Oh," he sighed.
"Please," you begged mindlessly, "Dr. Banner, I n-need you…"
"No, you need medical attention."
You whined and grabbed as his shirt, humming at the feeling of his warm skin just beneath. If the forearms that he often left exposed in rolled-up sleeves were anything to go buy, his chest was probably toned and tanned, lightly dusted with dark hair… you were all but drooling at the thought. "Please, Bruce… just help me," you pleaded, looking up into his eyes which were swirling with conflict.
"I can't," he shook his head. "I'd be taking advantage."
He must have seen the heartbreak of rejection make you wince, because he tried to soothe you with his hands resting on your arms— even just that contact making you suppress a moan.
"I've wanted this for so long," he explained, "and you— you haven't. You're unwell, you need to go to a hospital."
You sobbed a little at the idea of being taken away from him and examined by strangers, when you knew the solution was right in front of you. "No, no Bruce they'll touch me! Nobody can touch me but you, I only want you."
He scoffed, but you heard the weakness in it and you needed him to give in soon before you melted from your own hear. "You're deranged— delirious," he reiterated.
"It'll feel so good, please Bruce, I'll be so good for you— anything you want, I'll do it, I'm yours."
"Stop talking like that," he winced. "I can't… I can't."
"I need to feel you inside me, Dr. Banner, I need it more than anything. It's just gonna get worse… please, help me. I want you. I trust you."
"You'll hate me in the morning," he asserted. "God, this is so wrong…"
But much to your relief, he reached down and hesitantly slid his thick middle finger through your folds, gasping gently as he felt how wet you were. "I should t-take you somewhere private."
"No, need you now— right here," you pleaded, trying to chase his touch with your hips.
"But if someone came by—" he began to fret, glancing at the door; but his attention was turned back to you by your hands weaving into his hair.
"Nobody else stays this late, god, Bruce please I just need you so bad—"
He cut you off with a sudden kiss, which was enough on its own to make warmth bloom in your gut, but then he started to move his finger again and you shuddered with a moan that was muffled by his lips.
"Maybe I can make you come like this," he offered as he pulled back just enough to whisper to you, "would that help you? It'll take the edge off."
You bucked and moaned against his fingers, just those subtle touches driving you wild. "N-no, it has to be inside! You have to fuck me, I need your cock."
He breathed through his teeth, like he was almost considering it, but then looked away. "I can't," he shook his head.
"Can't or won't?"
He frowned. "Won't. I'll get you off with my fingers, otherwise it would be… too selfish."
"Bruce, I'm literally begging you for it," you sighed, the irritated tone that you'd intended lost in the moans he elicited by rubbing your swollen clit.
"I know," he winced, "I know and it's killing me that I can't give you what you're asking for… I swear if it wasn't like this…" he trailed off as you looked up at him with your bottom lip between your teeth.
"What would it be like?" you asked lowly. "Tell me how you would fuck me."
For all his shyness before, there was a brief switch in his demeanor as he leaned in, breath hot against your neck as he whispered, two fingers sliding into your channel at the exact moment that he spoke.
"So fucking hard."
You whimpered, knees wobbling a bit as you tried to ride his fingers— but he wasn't pushing back, wasn't giving you enough force to balance against when you sought more friction. "P-please, Bruce— I know you want to, please, please baby I need it so bad…"
"I know," he breathed, free hand cradling your face as his thumb stroked your cheek, and it was so needlessly compassionate, so effortlessly soothing that your heart had no choice but to clench at his tenderness. Other parts of you clenched as well, in much more literal ways, but the heart thing was more important.
You gingerly reached forward and palmed his cock through his pants, moaning when you felt how hard it was. "You're desperate, too," you informed him with a little smile. "It hurts, doesn't it? It aches."
"Yes," he answered tensely.
"I'm hurting too. I'm aching, for you. Please, Bruce, help me."
As he pulled back and examined your face, he chewed his lip and contemplated. He couldn't stand to see you in pain, but he couldn't comprehend what he had to do to help you. Well, okay, that's not totally accurate because he had actually "comprehended" the idea of making love to you plenty of times. But that was just a fantasy, a very misguided one that he only indulged in in his weakest moments. And in those fantasies, shockingly enough, you were always completed lucid and of sound mind and body. He sadly could not say that for you at the moment, and of course he couldn't because of course when you were sober and healthy, you didn't see him that way.
Bruce prided himself on his logic, his integrity, his patience. Suddenly, those qualities were falling prey to a much deeper, carnal instinct that saw this not as a predicament but as an opportunity. Logic states, after all, that it would be wasteful to have everything he wanted thrown into his lap and to let it go to waste.
"Fuck," he groaned as he kissed you again, fucking you faster with his fingers. You moaned and went for his belt, barely managing to open it with your hands shaking so much; part of you had considered just trying to rip the leather off of him, and with the force of your need it seemed almost plausible.
Finally getting his trousers opened just enough to reach inside, you purred as you reached in and navigated past his boxers to wrap your fingers around his hard cock. It was so thick and smooth and hot and you almost wanted to drop to your knees and take it in your throat right then, but you had better plans.
He pulled his fingers out of you slowly, grinning against you at the way you whined, before wrapping his arms around you and quickly instructing you to jump.
It was infuriating, how easily he caught you when you wrapped your body around him. Infuriating and so painfully sexy.
He never broke the kiss as he walked the two of you to your lab table, sliding the papers aside and onto the floor to set you on it. You started on his aggravatingly-small shirt buttons while he pushed his trousers and boxers down the rest of the way, and god his cock was right there between your legs, so close but very much too far away for your liking.
You didn't have the time or energy to get his shirt off, settling for just running your hands over the exposed skin instead. He grinned and watched the path your hands made, hissing slightly when they wrapped around his shaft— for a second you swore you could feel it throb.
"Don't make me wait anymore," you whispered your plea, sighing a little when he nodded.
"Okay baby," he agreed.
"Been waiting so long," you whined.
"Me too," he nodded, and with a little push, his cock slid all the way into you and filles you to the brim. Even when you were completely drenched, the girth of him was so wide that it stung, that it tore you open, but you loved it. Your head fell back and just from him being inside you, you came. The substance had you so needy and sensitive that that was all it took. It wasn't enough yet, of course. You knew you needed more. But God, he felt so good you could hardly breathe.
"Baby," you heard Bruce gasp, his fingers digging into your hips. Your chest twisted when he laughed a little, breathless and just teetering on the line between complimentary and mocking. "Did you just come?"
You considered playing dumb, but nodded instead.
His smile was apparent when he pressed his lips just below your ear to suck on the delicate skin there, his teeth trailing up to nibble your earlobe lightly. You hoped he would leave a mark, you hoped he would leave lots of marks that you could remember this by for weeks to come.
"Couldn't help yourself, huh?" he asked breathlessly, whispering so quietly you could barely hear it over the beating of your own pulse which echoed in your ears.
"You feel so good," you justified, "so fucking good, Bruce."
"You too," he sighed as he finally pulled back and slid into you again, the friction making your back arch instantly. "Even better than I imagined."
You smiled and wrapped your legs around his hips, forcing him to push deeper with each thrust. When he pushed you to your limits it felt like you might just fall apart right there, but it was so worth it.
As if that wasn't enough, he reached down and circled a thumb over your overstimulated clit, grinning down at you at the sight of you writhing and bucking wildly in his arms.
"Fuck!" you cried as you tightened your hands on his shoulders into fists hard enough to risk tearing through his shirt.
"Too much?"
"More," you pleaded instead, crying out when he gave you exactly what you wanted with fast, rough thrusts into your drenched walls. "Yes," you sobbed, "yes, fuck— m'gonna come, Bruce, gonna come again."
"Go ahead," he encouraged, voice so much rougher than normal, "show me how good it feels, baby."
It felt like his words were the thin that pushed you over the edge, as if your body somehow both understood and obeyed his command. You could feel a renewed wave of slick leak out from you, enough that you could hear the wetness in each slap of his hips against yours. His name was somewhere in the litany of curses and praises that spilled from your lips, your mind too clouded with hazy pleasure to keep track of what you were actually saying.
"Just like that," he groaned, "doing so good, fuck, say my name just like that every time I make you come."
An easy enough stricture to follow, especially when it seemed like he was all you could think about. He looked so different with his clothes half-shorn and his eyes dark with lust. He hadn't taken his glasses or labcoat off and you weren't sure which of those you were happier about.
His lips and hands were all over you; you couldn't even keep track of everywhere he was touching you, that's how overwhelming it was. "God, you're so fucking perfect," he groaned against your skin, finding a hardened nipple as his tongue explored you and wrapping his lips around it. "You are so goddamn sexy, you know that? I love seeing you with your legs spread for me like a needy little whore. I love hearing you moan and knowing I'm the one making you feel this good."
He took a moment to look at you and soak in your shocked reaction to his words before leaning in to continue.
"I love feeling you come for me," he purred in your ear.
"Then you're gonna really like what I'm about to do," you shivered.
"Yeah? You can gimme another one already?" he smiled. "Such a good girl…"
You really couldn't help it, it felt like everything he did only enhanced your pleasure— his words, his hands all over you, not to even mention his cock inside you. As much as the hedonistic corner of your brain was happy to let this go on forever, the ramifications of constant orgasms were finally catching up with you as you wondered how much more of this you could take.
"F-fuck, are you close?" you asked weakly. "Want you to come for me, Bruce, please."
"I-I'll pull out," he suggested, although the way he looked down at his length sinking into you and pulling back out, covered in your abundant arousal, didn't exactly indicate that he was willing and able to actually make good on his offer.
"No!" you yelped, pulling him closer by his unbuttoned shirt. "It needs to be inside, Bruce, please come inside me."
"Fuck," he hissed through his teeth.
"Please, Bruce, please, promise you'll come inside."
"I will," he sighed, "fuck, I will baby, I promise I'm gonna fill you up so good, you're gonna have my come so fucking deep inside you…"
"Yes!" you moaned, completely unabashed as the unknown substance had apparently absolved you of any shame whatsoever. "Yes, I want it, Bruce, I want your come."
The moment you felt his seed start to paint your walls, you felt relief begin to wash over you. Your mind and body relaxed, the overwhelming heat under your skin subsiding into a comforting warmth, the desperation that had burned in your gut satiated at last.
And that left you staring up at him in realization of what you had done, just as he looked back at you with the same.
"God, I'm so sorry—" he shuddered, moving to pull away. Instinctively your legs wrapped around his hips again, holding him close.
"N-no, wait," you groaned, "it's okay. Don't go."
"You don't hate me," he said, the exhaustion in his tone making it hard to tell if it was a question or a statement.
"Never," you sighed with a weak smile, sitting up to clutch his face and kiss him again. "God, Bruce, now I'm just wondering what took us so long."
"Our lab safety is just too good, clearly," he smiled as he kissed you again, pulling back a little too soon to examine your face where he held it in his hands. "Are you okay? You should still probably go to a doctor…"
"I'm already with a doctor," you smirked, "and his treatment was very effective."
"Yeah, that was…" he trailed off, wide eyes as if he were reminiscing about what had only just transpired.
"Sorry for being so… desperate," you cringed. "I didn't mean to… um… impose…"
He just laughed and kissed your forehead, making you feel your cheeks warm a bit; ironic that with everything that had just happened, this was what made you blush. "A beautiful, amazing woman that I've been dreaming about for months begs me to take her in the laboratory… really inconvenient."
"I mean, cleaning up these papers and the broken glass is gonna be pretty tedious, along with the incident report," you frowned.
"I'll help you with it," he offered.
"Tomorrow," you decided. "Right now, I'm taking you to my place."
"Is that so?" he asked with a bemused smirk.
"Yep. We both are in serious need of a shower, and then I wanna go again," you grinned wickedly.
"I thought you said you weren't feeling the effects of the chemical anymore," he recalled, voice tinted with concern.
"I'm not," you reassured, "I'm just feeling the effects of you."
1K notes · View notes
curiousconch · 3 years
Text
Chase You/Chase Me (Pt. 4)
Part 4: The truth will never lie to me
Catch up here: Series Masterlist
Chapter Summary: Trapped in a conference, Gabe and Alex bask in the afterglow of their interrupted moment by the lake. But before Alex can fully comprehend how she felt, she unravels a truth that may cease the chase altogether.
Book/Pairing: Choices - Laws of Attraction / Gabe Ricci x MC (Alex Keating)
Words: 1.8k+
Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / alcohol consumption, language, implied sexual content. Reader discretion advised.
Author's Notes: Surprise! Yep, it's an early release! I made revisions to fit the ongoing narrative and ended up breaking it down into two parts. Also, this series may span longer than I originally intended it to be, not wanting to rush things. It will probably extend until Part 7, depending on what happens at the finale. I do hope you'll still stick around. If not, I'll totally understand. 😉
Disclaimer: Most of the characters as well as some dialogue belong to Pixelberry. I am merely borrowing them.
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Late night, Boston
Shoe laces, cool wind and the darkness of the forest enveloping them. His breath shuddering with how close her lips was. His throat running dry.
Wanting, longing.
Just a little taste to find out how intoxicatingly delicious those cherry lips would be in his mouth and to feel the heat of her body against his.
And then a splash.
Gabe blinked as he felt ice cold liquid pouring over his crisp white shirt. He wasn't sure if he was having déjà vu.
"Oh, sorry mate," a man standing nearby had bumped into him, making the glass of scotch he was drinking shake and spill into his impeccable suit. He forced down the tasteless curse words forming in his mouth, groaning in frustration at the dissipating sensations from what he had been imagining.
His mind was stuck in an endless loop, replaying the romantic encounter with Alex just the night before. But very much like after Beau's dive into the lake, his consciousness whipped achingly back to reality.
Gabe was leaning on the mobile bar, set in the middle of the conference reception. Did he just lose himself in a daydream like a fool? He wondered, murmuring through his madness.
The time alone with her provided him a glimpse of what could be between them. And oh how euphoric it had been to have her so near, to watch his body respond to her like no other.
It left him just craving for more.
He was lying to himself if he continued to deny that he has feelings for Alex, and how deep he was already in for her. But he knew it wasn't meant to be, at least until after he admits the truth. Until then, he had to pull away.
Easier said than done.
For now, he settled for a view of her, his eyes scoured the room for the subject of his fancy. When he found her, Gabe couldn't stop his smile and the fluttering of his heart, or the warmth growing between his legs.
There she was, in the far side of the room, shining brighter than any star that they had seen in the night sky. Her audience completely captivated as he was with her.
The sight of her in that blue dress swept Gabe back into his fantasies, and how infuriatingly near he was to giving into them. He had to clench his fist around his tumbler, suppressing any trace of his earlier wild thoughts.
Apparently sensing the weight of his gaze, Alex turned to him, their eyes meeting in silent conversation. He watched as she excused herself before making her way towards where he sat.
Half-smiling, Alex's confident expression as she approached him made him swallow hard.
Gabe summoned all his willpower to rein himself in as she got closer. He plastered his usual cocky smile, once again putting up a wall of professionalism. They were in a conference, he reasoned.
"Still watching your wards, old man?" Alex chuckled as she reached a seat beside him.
"Working the room like a pro like that? Very hard to ignore," Gabe interjected, shaking his head. "Had to say Alex, I'm impressed."
"Glad you noticed," she smiled, clearly enjoying the compliment.
"Frankly, you charming the top tier lawyers were hard to miss," he said, with lips quirking into a grin.
"Were you watching the whole time?" she asked.
"Difficult not to, seeing how you're the best-dressed lawyer in the room," he continued, savoring the easy conversation.
She scoffed before turning around, grabbing a napkin from a bartender. Alex offered it to him, pointing at the light stain on his clothes.
He finally muttered a curse, realizing he had been too distracted not to notice the result of the spillage from his own drink. This was one of my best suits.
Gabe almost jumped when Alex started to wipe the front of his suit.
His eyes narrowed, unable to process what was happening. On impulse, he reached out to her, encircling his palms around her wrist. Alex snapped her head up at the touch, the intensity of her gaze enchanting him.
It took all of his strength to break free from it. He cleared his throat and looked away, before grabbing the napkin from her grasp without warning.
It had always been like this. At first, there was this fluidity, a natural attraction between them while they interacted. Then another goddamn minute passes and it all becomes downright complicated.
Gabe wasn't having it.
He briefly shut his eyes closed and released the breath he was holding. When he opened them, he focused his attention on wiping the stain from his jacket, avoiding Alex's questioning gaze. He decided to divert the conversation, robbing her of any opportunity to re-capture him in a trance.
"Don't worry, I don't judge potential partners solely on congeniality. Though I can't speak for Sadie." He then turned and discarded the cloth on the bar. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll have to speak to a friend who I'm sure will be thrilled to know I'm now a partner."
He finally dared to look at Alex with almost apologetic eyes, before swiftly walking away towards a sea of unfamiliar faces.
Alex was left gaping at his hasty departure, uncertain how it all went south so quickly. She wanted to grab his arm and pull him to her so badly, to pick things up from where they left off last night. From that moment when his lips was inches away from taking hers, before they were interrupted.
Her body ached to be near him. Then again, that's not how she usually operates, so she let him be.
She had never thought her idol was such a tease. Or perhaps, traditional? Alex snickered. Oh how I'll make you beg, Gabriel Ricci. She exhaled, the sultry thought of the man on his knees in front of her suddenly hiking up the temperature in the room. Alex had to fan herself to cool down.
Along with the idea of finally spending some alone time together, conjuring the image of waking up beside Gabe excited her. Well, if ever this chase between them actually culminates to something.
But why was she following this trail of thought? In all her conquests, she had never stayed for what came after. She had that with Julian, and look how that ended. For her, it was always just for the fun. So why does she suddenly liked the notion with Gabe? She shuddered. Ugh, weird.
Maybe it's because it's taking the long game with him? Alex didn't want to know.
Leaving that for now, she resorted to ordering another shot of patron to drown the remnants of her heated thoughts. On her third glass, Alex heard a familiar voice ordering a shot of bourbon. She swiveled towards it and caught sight of Lina Reyes, the opposing lawyer from the Willow case.
"Fancy meeting you here," Alex smiled lazily, remembering how temptingly attractive she was. She also recalled the offer of a hook-up, which she politely declined out of courtesy.
But now, seems like she's getting another chance. And with Gabe being annoyingly hard to get, Alex had to have fun somewhere else. It's not like she and Gabe was committed, right?
Lina scooted closer to her, smelling of a heady mix of alcohol. "Speaking of fancy, damn. You look more incredible than I can remember, Alex," she teased, provocatively arching her brows at her.
Alex quickly picked up Lina's attempt to flirt, stoking her bruised ego. "Gotta be dressed to impress, right?" she waved her fingers as if in curtsy. "Enjoying the conference?"
"At this point, things tend to devolve quickly. But I do plan to have a nightcap back in my room," Lina smirked, Alex feeling the heel of velvet pumps brushing along her bare leg. "Maybe you could join me?"
The woman wasn't exactly subtle, though Alex had to give props to her for her confidence. She liked that in anyone. So Alex returned the gesture, letting her fingers hover an inch over her arm while batting her eyelashes. Two can play that game.
"I think we should stay here."
Wait, what? Did she just say no? Subconsciously? Did hell just freeze over? Or did her brain left her head?
Both women blinked, unable to determine who's more mortified between them. They were both quiet, until Lina broke the awkwardness by a chuckle.
"Had to try, didn't expect I'd be turned down twice," she said consuming the rest of her drink in one gulp. "Worth it though." she shrugged, ordering another round for herself.
Alex struggled to compose herself, brows furrowed in confusion by how that went down.
"Oh don't be so bothered, you're not my first rodeo." Lina poked at her jokingly, clearing up the air. Alex thanked her, and the conversation went smoothly from there.
Several more drinks in, the two women chatted on, venturing into a variety of topics in law and in love. It didn't take long before Lina started to slur in her words, to which Alex found amusing.
"Looks like someone didn't pace herself," she observed as she sipped her cocktail.
"Ah don't mind me, had to cleanse my palate after all the boring sessions earlier," Lina toasted her glass on hers, wobbling as she shifted to face her. "We are a rare breed, us fighters," she leaned towards Alex, lowering her voice to a whisper. "We like-minded women should just stick together, you know?"
Alex was relieved she turned her down the second time. Barely listening to her, she started to drift off as Lina continued rambling on, turning around to face the crowds as her eyes tried to locate that handsome man. Alex smirked when she found Gabe's sexy outline.
"Lot of ungrateful dipshits being freed from prison, even after we work our asses off proving they deserved an earlier release. Khan, Kozlowski, those celebrities involved with the Ivy League admission scandal? Hell, even small town criminal Cornell was released in the last five years alone!"
And with that last statement, Alex froze. "Say that again?"
Confused, Lina stuttered as if she can't remember what she was saying. To Alex's annoyance, she went silent, apparent that more humiliation was on the way. Lina abruptly stood, covering her mouth with her hand as she sprinted to the bathroom. Alex let her pass.
Assured that she'll be fine with her colleagues flanking her, Alex started to obsess over Lina's last sentence.
Was that just the patron? Or am I getting too drunk and starting to hear things? She asked herself, bewildered at how randomly Lina mentioned a Cornell.
With an exasperated sigh, she decided it wouldn't hurt to check. She pulled out her phone from her purse and fired up a search engine, where she typed in the godforsaken name. Alex tapped enter.
As soon as the results loaded, she felt the world crumble beneath her.
No, no, no, no, no. This fucking didn't happen.
She clicked on one of the articles from a local news outlet. The picture beneath the headline shoving her nightmares front and center. There it was, the title written in bold stated loud and clear: Cornell Son Gets Early Release.
Alex bit her lip as she fought to gather herself together, speed reading through the article. This was definitely a surprise, but what really got her reeling was the figure of a man walking behind Maximilian. She'd pick up who that was from anywhere within a mile radius.
Alex tried to keep herself rational, but the shock rippled through her, enough to shake off the alcohol in her system. And why did her stomach churned like she was punched in the gut a hundred times over? Why did she felt fucking betrayed?
Unexpectedly, she knew it wasn't discovering Cornell was now walking freely in the streets.
Deep down, Alex was aware it was because Gabe Ricci was involved. Either way, it looks like her high and mighty boss has some explaining to do.
Her blood boiled, a myriad of questions went through her mind. Resolute, she wanted those damn questions answered. Tonight.
She downed her drink and slammed the empty glass on the bar, sending a text to draw Gabe's attention.
She looked over where he stood, watching the frown in his face as he read her message. She clicked her head, beckoning him outside.
Even he can't fathom the fire storm that was about to come his way.
Author's Notes 2: Thank you for your continued reading! 💖 How do you think things will go down next? Let me see your reactions on your comments and reblogs!
Tag list: @adiehardfan @pixelnutrookie @starryjieun @latinagiraffe @sarcastic01lily @spookycolorpeanut @ophrookie @suitfer @thegreentwin @mkatschoicesblog @made-of-roses @lillijill
@choicesficwriterscreations
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billiedeanhwrd · 3 years
Text
when i fell you were there, with your hands in the air
cordelia goode x fem!reader
summary: your depression is hitting you harder than most days, cordelia comforts you 🤍
warnings: depression, slight mention of childhood trauma, it's angsty mental health fluff basically
word count: 1.7k
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a/n: this is my first ever fanfic and i'm very very nervous about it, so pls don't be too harsh, constructive criticism is very much welcome though!! also i'm sorry about any grammar mistakes, english is not my first language. i also have to add that this was very much self indulgent and based on my own experience with depression, so if you don't relate, that's fine, everyone experiences it differently. I hope you enjoy it tho, have fun reading <3
today was one of those days again. one of those days where everything seemed grey and pointless. one of those days where taking a shower was too exhausting. one of those days where it didn't matter if you left your clothes on the floor or a pile of dirty dishes in the sink. one of those days where you isolated yourself. one of those days that seemed to return to you every morning for almost 3 weeks now.
you had been struggling with depression for years now and attending therapy regularly still didn't take away from the embarrassment you felt about your illness. cordelia didn't know, you didn't want to burden her with your subjectively "silly" problems. It wasn't easy hiding something so life consuming from your lover, but whenever you were with her you felt as though you could reach for the stars and there was no point in ruining happy moments with sad stories.
Whenever you felt really depressed and unable to function, you isolated yourself. Cordelia and you had been together for 7 months now and the first time she thought she had done something wrong which had resulted in you needing space from her, but when she confronted you, you reassured her that sometimes you needed some time to yourself because you were a more introverted person. While that might be true, you wanted nothing more than for her to take you into her arms and tell you everything was going to be okay again, but the fear of possibly burdening the already very busy supreme held you back from confessing what was weighing you down.
you were used to this already, you always kept your darkness to yourself, too afraid of being too much or being abandoned by your loved ones, while the rational side of you knew that the people in your life who truly meant something to you would never abandon you because of your chronic depression, anxiety left no room for rationality.
you were always feeling kind of down, but some days it was easier to cope and enjoy your day despite that... and then there were those phases where you felt unusually down, those phases that caused you to isolate yourself and wait for the storm to pass in solitude. They usually lasted only a few days or maximum a week, but this one had been going on for much longer. cordelia was worried, you had never needed so much "alone time to recharge your social battery", but she didn't want to overstep your boundaries and possibly push you away, because what you weren't aware of was that cordelia too struggled with abandonment issues and fearing she would be "too much" (which she could never be for you, you adored every single second you could spend in the blonde witch's presence).
After leaving multiple text messages and trying to call you, only to be greeted by your voicemail, cordelia took it upon herself to see what was going on with you. The knocking on your door would've usually startled you, but you had just ordered a pizza, too tired to prepare a meal yourself and assumed the delivery was faster than they had stated on their website. your jaw fell open and the door was quickly closed again, shit shit shit, what am i supposed to do now? the place looks like a mess, i can't let cordelia se-
"y/n can you open the door please?" she asked in her gentle voice. "Uh, yeah, give me a second" you replied, hastily throwing on a hoodie that had been lying around on your couch, coincidentally that hoodie being one you stole from cordelia a few weeks ago, something that made your girlfriend's heart warm up a little and relieve her of some of the worried thoughts she had that this might be your way of signaling to her that you no longer wished to be in a relationship with her.
"can we talk? i haven't seen you in three weeks and you haven't answered any of my texts... what's going on? you know you can talk to me about anything..."
"uhm, yes, of course. sit down, make yourself at home, would you like anything to drink?"
"no, thank you, i just want to talk to you"
you didn't have the energy to lie to the woman who held your heart in her hands anymore, you were terrified of her reaction, not only to you being mentally ill but also to you hiding it for so long.
"i'm so sorry delia, please don't be mad", you anxiously stuttered out. cordelia grabbed your hand and smiled reassuringly, signaling for you to continue talking.
"I didn't tell you before because i know you've already got so much going on with the academy and i didn't want to pile onto that with my irrelevant issues... I was diagnosed with depression amongst other things a few years ago, it's something i have to deal with every day and some days are easier than others, but sometimes it all comes crashing down on me and i feel like i'm lost in an ocean of a sadness so powerful, i can feel the pain on my body. I know it can be challenging to be close to someone with severe mental issues and I understand if you don't want to continue being with me, i would never want you to stay with me because you pity me or because you're afraid i'd do something to myself if you'd left, you're not responsible for my feelings or actions and i would never want to impose you with such a burden and-"
you stopped rambling when you noticed the tears flowing down cordelia's cheeks.
your eyes widened and your heart started pounding rapidly in your chest. "i'm sorry, was that too much?"
"no, no, no, no, no... it just pains me to know that you've been dealing with this on your own for such a long time because you don't value yourself enough to believe that other people might want to support you through your everyday battles. y/n, i know you, you're the girl who's always there when someone else needs a shoulder to cry on, anytime, anyplace, you always go out of your way to make others feel seen and accepted, why would you ever think that you don't deserve the kindness you so openly give to others?"
now it was you who was crying, cordelia was right, you didn't value yourself enough to believe that. you didn't actively think of yourself as less than others but that thought always unconsciously motivated the way you dealt with the things that were bothering you.
cordelia patted her lap, signaling for you to sit on her lap and come into her arms. you hesitated though, you weren't used to being so vulnerable and open with your emotions and it scared the shit out of you. you feared cordelia was possibly annoyed at you and was only doing this to get it over with and then get out. she watched you, while you were anxiously deciding what your next move would be, her heart broke for you, you looked like a scared baby dear when all she wanted to do was to comfort you.
"baby, look at me"
her chocolate colored eyes were so full of love, simply looking into them managed to get your heart rate down.
"it's okay, i'm not mad at you for talking about your feelings and all i want to do right now is to hug some of your pain away, so please, let me hold you"
you melted at her gentle words and understanding nature, cordelia was an incredibly smart woman, who went through traumatic things herself and even from that little information you shared, she understood you. she saw her younger self in you, so incredibly lonely but oh, so scared of being vulnerable with another person, due to the emotional abuse her mother subjected her to, and while she might not have gone through the same things you did, she felt like she understood your feelings in this exact moment and she wanted nothing more than to make you feel safe with her.
you slowly crawled into her lap, still afraid this was all a trick to hurt you, but when she started combing through your hair and reassuringly whispering "i've got you" and "you're here with me, i promise you, you're safe", you relaxed into her arms.
after about half an hour of laying there with each other, calming down and enjoying the other one's warmth, you spoke up.
"delia?"
"yes, my love?"
"so you're not leaving me?", you hesitantly asked.
cordelia sat up and looked straight in your eyes while asking "would you leave someone you love because they're depressed?"
"no, never"
"then tell me, sweetheart, why would i leave you?"
her response left you speechless, you almost missed her confessing her love. "you love me?"
she hugged you tight and pressed a kiss on your forehead. "more than anything, and please, never worry about telling me about what's going on in that pretty little head of yours, no matter what it is, i wanna know, okay?"
you let out the breath you didn't know you were holding and confidently replied "okay"
a few minutes passed before you spoke up again when you remembered you didn't say those 3 special words back.
"i love you too, by the way"
cordelia smiled lovingly and stood up to reach out for your hand and pull you up. "i know, now let's go to bed, we can clean up this place tomorrow"
you accepted her helping hand and engulfed her in a hug. the way she so naturally used the word "we" and didn't seem to mind helping you clean up your mess of an apartment made you more emotional than you'd like to admit.
And while you knew this would not be the last time you were overwhelmed by your depression, you now knew that you could count on the woman who loved you to stand by your side and help you get through even your hardest day.
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min-youngis · 3 years
Text
aesthete - j.jk
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banner is miNe
~ Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader (artist!kook)
~ Genre: Fluff (is v soft), Suggestive (?), a smidgen of angst
~ Rating: T bordering on M (yes, i'm an ao3 gal why do u ask)
~ Summary/Excerpt: You can feel it when he whispers that he wants to paint you, his words kissed against the side of your jaw, lips feathering across your skin like his brushes.
Established Relationship
~ Word Count: 1.7k
~ Warnings: implied sexy times, kissing, casual nudity, eM0TionaL vuLnerABiLity i suppose
~ A/N: i would simply like to see a harry styles and bts interaction tomorrow, i think that would be super. disclaimer- this story has nothing to do w that.
i'd love to hear feedback, spread the love!
masterlist in my description.
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You know you love him. You can feel it when he offers to drop you off at work, because you're en route to his client, and your heart flops a bit at his thoughtless kindness. You can feel it when he takes pictures of you on dates when he thinks you aren't looking, and then again when you catch him setting those pictures as his lockscreen wallpaper.
You can feel it when he whispers that he wants to paint you, his words kissed against the side of your jaw, lips feathering across your skin like his brushes.
His fingers trace a path of comfort up and down your back; earlier, you would've thought it was mindless, but now you know better. Every catch of his nail on your shoulder blade, every lazy dip of his finger tips down toward the small of your back is art. And you don't know how you feel about being something as reliable as his canvas.
You don't answer immediately, choosing instead to silently let your palm settle more solidly against the side of his chest, your head cushioned next to it. Slowly, you look up, resting your chin on his firm torso. There's a stupidly poetic beam of moonlight entering the room, cutting across his face and throwing it into stark definition, even from the awkward angle at which he has to bend to look you.
With his weight solid beneath you, the heat of his body that you had recently been intimately acquainted with effortlessly grounding you, and the soothingly relentless patterns of his fingers on your back, the vulnerability in your eyes isn't easy to miss.
"What if you see too much?"
"With you, it's never enough."
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"Comfortable?"
You nod slowly, letting yourself settle in position, body draped on its side over the hardwood floor. Your palm holds your head aloft as you face the empty chair a few feet from you sideways. You can feel heat below you, lying down as you are on a patch of sunlight, can feel heat over you from the midday warmth seeping in through the open window, can feel heat in jungkook's touch as he positions your free arm so its comfortably curled in front of your chest, your fingers grazing your already sensitive neck.
He kisses you once, twice, thrice, countless times on the side of your head, calloused painter fingers taking their time in making subtle adjustments to your limbs. Occasionally, he stops in his calculated movements, walks in front so he can look at you from the perspective in which he's going to be immortalising your body in art. Eyes rake down your naked frame, gaze warming you and making you shiver despite the summer sunlight hitting you directly.
His fingers trail fire as they gently push your upper thigh a little more to the front, burn imprints onto the small of your back as he makes you straighten the curved in arch, leave scorch marks against the side of your neck as he tilts it to rest more firmly on your palm.
And you let him. How could you not? He's treating you like you're made of china. Like you're art. Your breath hitches every time you feel him on you, his palm settling on your stomach to soothe paradoxically keying you up more. You don't say a word. The gentleness is too much, too kind.
"You good?" he softly asks, smoothing down your hair as he kneels behind you. This is intimate; far more intimate than anything you've done before.
"Yeah."
You're only half-lying, you know. But nonetheless, you nearly purr as jungkook's palm slides down from your forehead to cup your jaw, tilting your painstakingly positioned head up to face him. If he sees the muted fear in your eyes, he makes no mention of it.
He dips his head, dropping a soft kiss against your lips that you sigh into, letting you press up into it as much as you need to ground yourself. His warm fingers don't leave your face. Your eyelids flutter open when you pull away, a little calmer, a little more reassured.
"If you feel uncomfortable, we can stop immediately, okay? Just say the word." His tone rings with conviction, with comfort, with kindness; and you know that you're going to pull through with this.
Wordlessly, you nod, returning his soothing smile with a small one of your own before he moves your neck back to its previous position.
He takes his time setting up, smoothing down the pad on the easel, examining his pencils with concentration and care. You've seen him do it a hundred times, but it's different now. When all the preparation is to draw you.
You resist the urge to shift, already a bit restless after being still for no more than ten minutes. But there's an unacknowledged thought in your head, disowned but definitely present. Selfishly, a little narcissistically, and incredibly terribly, you want to see how it turns out. How you turn out.
"I'm starting now," he softly says, gently tugging you out of wherever you've zoned out to.
Giving your fingers one last flex, you nod. "Where do you want me to look?"
"Right at me."
His answer should make you want to wrench yourself off the floor, grab your clothes and send you running for the high hills. All it does is make you smile. "Okay."
You've sat in on some of his projects; watched him as he designed colourful tapestries for clients, landscapes filled with rainbows and elephants for day care walls, elegant, artistic prints for framing and portraits for celebrities. But here, on the receiving end of his focused gaze, is an entirely different ball game. After a point, you don't know who's observing whom.
Jungkook's tongue pokes out occasionally, lips get pursed in a concentrated pout. His foot taps a bit as he compares you to what he's drawn so far, eyes narrowing as he smooths some strokes. His little habits keep you from noticing the strain on your bent wrist, the soreness in your thighs. Above you, the sunlight becomes a little warmer as it gets closer to noon, and the family of red finches that comes to your garden everyday makes its appearance known through the open window.
It's all so stupidly ideal, everything happening around you. Sat on his three-legged stool with one hand on his waist as he stretches his back ever so often, giving you reassuring smiles occasionally, making you giggle when he pointedly looks at your boobs before winking obnoxiously, his oversized grey t-shirt falling over broad shoulders and smelling like paint and patchouli soap and comfort; Jungkook could be the model, the artist and the muse, all rolled into one.
You're observing the way the messy ponytail on his head is slowly starting to come apart, wispy strands brushing against the bottom of his ears, curling against the cut of his jaw, when he finally says, "Done."
You're silent for a second, just letting yourself look at him a bit more, observing as he paints a few more marks on the paper in front of him before he places the pencil down, arms coming up and back straightening as he stands up and stretches, nudging the stool out of the way. It's too soon to revert to the knowledge that you're perceived, and that how you're perceived by him is now so transparent and just a few steps away from you. You're far better off in this quixotic fairytale, where all you have to do is watch Jungkook, no doubt with an overfull gaze of fondness.
He tilts his head to the side with a knowing look. "Do you want to see?"
Slowly, you ease your limbs, massaging your wrist as you come up to a sitting position. "I don't know," you shrug, busying yourself with rolling your ankles to get the numbness out, not meeting his eyes. "Do I want to see?"
You feel him watching you as you pull on clothes, tugging your t-shirt over your head and examining your pants to find the front and back.
"I like it. But I think that's less because it's artistically good and more because I like you."
It's corny. It's so cheesy, and it's so stupid, but incredibly, it's affirming. And it makes you want to see.
Smoothing your hands down the front of your leggings, you turn around to face him, small smile and twinkling eyes greeting you and making you feel a warmth that not a single shade of sunlight could manage during the last hour. His arm is extended towards you, palm open, waiting for yours.
Wordlessly, you convince your legs to guide you to him, feet scuffing on the wooden floor and suddenly sounding too loud. Fingers curl as you timidly place your hand atop his, letting him gently tug you close to his frame. With a soft kiss to your forehead, he twirls you so you're facing the paper.
You hardly notice his arms winding around your waist, barely register his chin resting atop your head.
You're painted in quiet hues of pink, lips curled up slightly in a small smile, eyes dripping honey. The curve of your hip right down to the tapering of your ankles are all softened. You don't even realise that you're tracing out the image, shaking fingers stalling momentarily as you find something new, something you. The scattering of moles on your forearm, the curl of your hair at the bottom, the subtle red of the mosquito bite near your belly button, the brown birth mark near your knee. You still once you reach your slightly smudged feet, chipped blue nail polish thrillingly evident.
"You kept wiggling your toes."
It's such an innocuous statement, an explanation for something so fascinatingly real, and it makes you want to punch and kiss him simultaneously. You're too overwhelmed to reply, though, settling for squeezing his arm silently, subtly moving backwards closer to his chest.
His breath whooshes against the hair on the top of your head as he asks, squeezing back, "Are you glad you saw it?"
You'd nod, if you weren't so scared of displacing the moment, suspended in air and tender.
"Yeah," you whisper, letting your hand fall. Silently, you turn around, wrapping your hands around his waist and trying to convey as much as you can through the hug, head burrowing into his frame as his chest rumbles with fond, muted chuckles. "I love it."
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mimisempai · 3 years
Text
You are making every day a little less ordinary
Summary:
During one of their usual lunches in the TVA cafeteria, Casey, curious about his friend's datinf life, wonders what a date between Mobius and Loki is like. Loki remembers and recounts his most memorable dates.
Or
5 times where Mobius surprises Loki and once where Loki returns the favor
Notes:
Tumblr request : 5+1 about their dates with one being a picinic
https://archiveofourown.org/works/32863855
3042 words - Rating G
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"Hey Loki, mind if I ask you a question?"
Casey and Loki were eating lunch in the TVA cafeteria, as they regularly did. Loki was still surprised at how Casey had somehow grown fond of him, where many people kept their distance. Which he couldn't blame them for, given his past.
So he was enjoying these moments with Casey.
"Since when do you need to ask?"
Casey looked a little hesitant, "well, it's a little bit of a personal question."
"Go on and shoot." Loki replied, curious as to what the man was going to ask him.
"Ahem... you and Mobius are together."
"I think that's obvious, since we don't hide it."
"Yeah, yeah, and so considering it's been over a year, um... I guess... you guys have dated already... and uh... I have a hard time imagining what you and Mobius can do on a date." Casey paused, his cheeks on fire before continuing, "No, forget it. I should never have asked you something like that."
Loki shook his head and laughed, "No, no, I have no problem talking about this. You're talking to someone who didn't even know what a date was until a few months ago..."
Loki straightened up a bit in his chair and continued talking, "Looking back, I'd say our first date took place here."
"Here?"
1.
After their return from Pompeii, Loki had fallen asleep in the middle of their research. Mobius had woken him up and taken him to the cafeteria. Thinking back, even if at that moment they were not together, for Loki it was still a first date.
There were only them in the cafeteria, the light was rather dim, which had given even more of an impression of intimacy and in addition there was the close way they were sitting, their legs touching.
Loki remembered perfectly all the details of that moment.
Those few minutes of respite, where they had gotten to know each other, or rather where Loki had gotten to know Mobius.
"By the way, at your desk, that magazine?"
"Yeah. The one on jet skis?"
"Yes. Why do you have that?"
"Because they're awesome."
There was something touching about Mobius as he spoke of his passion, a passion he had never practiced.
"So, why read about them?"
"It just helps remind me of what we're fighting for."
"I mean, you really believe in all this stuff, don't you?"
"I don't get hung up on, "Believe, not believe." I just accept what is."
He was surprised by what followed, not by the content, because it was clear that Mobius really believed in the cause he was working for, but he was surprised that Mobius did not feel attacked, that they both left the dialogue open, without judgment.
"Actually it's exactly the same thing. Because if you think too hard about where any of us came from, who we truly are, it sounds kinda ridiculous. Existence is chaos. Nothing makes any sense, so we try to make some sense of it. And I'm just lucky that the chaos I emerged into gave me all this... My own glorious purpose."
Mobius' arguments, in the context in which Mobius lived, had held up surprisingly well.
They had not agreed, but they respected each other's opinions. If not for the context, of Loki in captivity of sorts, and the lie upon which the TVA had been built, the evening could almost have ended in "My place or yours." Because undoubtedly they had gotten closer at that point.
So yes, it was indeed for Loki their first date and that's what he told Casey.
**********
"Honestly Loki, I have to say that this is an original first date, but ultimately a true reflection of your couple." reacted Casey with a wink before continuing, "but now I'm curious what your other dates were like, if there were any at all."
Loki laughed softly, "Oh there were, many. Mobius, knowing that the concept of a date was totally unknown to me, redoubled his creativity and used this pretext to make me live all sorts of unknown experiences."
"You don't want me to feel sorry for you, do you?"
Loki smiled again, "Oh no, I have nothing to complain about at all. I'll tell you the most memorable ones for me. One of them was a picnic."
"Oh?" Casey's eyes sparkled with interest, as he settled down to listen to Loki's tale.
2.
Loki was reading on the couch when Mobius hugged him from behind, kissing the top of his head.
Then Mobius had said in his ear, "Sweetheart, don't be scared, I'm going to blindfold you, because I'd like to take you somewhere and keep it a surprise until the end."
Loki trusted Mobius completely so it was easy for him to agree.
"I'm really curious though."
Once the blindfold was tied, he felt the light caress of a kiss on his lips and Mobius took his hand.
He let himself be guided.
He heard the typical sound of a timedoor appearing, and then letting himself be pulled by Mobius' hand, he recognized the usual sensation that accompanied the crossing of the door.
He felt a difference in the ground under his feet, like grass perhaps.
Deprived of sight, his other senses were alert, so he also felt the warmth of the sun on his face and the smell of flowers reached his nostrils, while he heard birds chirping around them.
Mobius was now holding him by the elbow and guiding him gently.
"You still okay, sweetheart?"
Loki simply nodded, a smile on his face because he could feel the excitement in his lover's voice.
After a while, Mobius stopped him, and made him sit slowly on the floor, on something soft. Then Mobius gently removed the blindfold.
Loki's eyes adjusted to the radiant light even though they were in shadow, and he took in the sight.
77_Frigga... the little planet Mobius had already taken him to when Loki had told him he missed the starry skies of Asgard.
Loki looked around, he was sitting on a blanket spread on the ground, under a tree that while providing shade, did not deprive them of the beautiful light. They were in a field of flowers, the same paradisiacal vision as on their first visit here. Mobius sat next to him and clearly waited for his reaction.
Loki leaned in and put his lips to Mobius', letting him know in a slow, passionate kiss how much he enjoyed his surprise.
Mobius turned to a basket that Loki hadn't noticed and began to pull out everything needed for a perfect picnic.
"Did you pack all this?" Mobius nodded his head and Loki kissed him gently again.
They enjoyed the meal peacefully, chatting about everything and anything. Once the leftovers were put away, Loki lay down on his back, his head on Mobius' lap
"Thanks love, that was amazing."
Mobius, a little embarrassed, leaned over and kissed him tenderly.
They had finished the afternoon while enjoying the heavenly surroundings and each other's presence.
**********
Loki lost in his memories, was brought out of his reverie by Casey's whisper of admiration, "Aww, Mobius is really dedicated, you know you are lucky right?"
"Don't worry Casey, I'm totally aware of how lucky I am."
This reminded him, another original date, another surprise from Mobius that he was quick to tell Casey about
3.
Sounds from the kitchen woke Loki from his sleep. He stretched, shivering because the sheet had slipped down to his waist.
"You're awake."
Loki looked up to find Mobius smiling at him, standing by the bedroom door, dressed in just sweatpants and a t-shirt, his longer hair still disheveled and a budding beard. A perfect view to start the day, in Loki's opinion.
What caught his eye was the tray in his hands.
Mobius moved closer, carefully perching himself on the bed and balancing the tray on his lap.
"I wanted to surprise you." Mobius smiled, offering the tray to Loki and laughing affectionately as he watched him contort himself to sit up. "Breakfast in bed or let's call it a breakfast date. I thought it would be a nice change, since it's our day off."
Loki's mouth suddenly watered between what he saw and what he smelled.
Usually they had a light breakfast, but on days off, getting up later, breakfast also served as lunch.
On the tray was a plate of bacon and eggs, buttered toast, a small pile of pancakes covered in syrup, a large glass of orange juice, and an assortment of fresh fruit.
"Oh Love, you spoil me." said Loki, a piece of pancake already in his mouth.
Mobius shakes his head with a small laugh. "I always want to spoil you."
Loki leaned forward to capture Mobius' lips in a sweet kiss. Mobius took the opportunity to sneak his hand through Loki's hair and pulled him to him while being careful not to flip the tray.
When they separated, Loki was out of breath.
"Let's eat."
Mobius sat next to Loki, the tray resting on their knees. They ate breakfast, talking, feeding each other.
Later, Loki hummed over one last incredibly delicious bite, his head resting on Mobius' shoulder.
Definitely, this dating concept was quite interesting.
*********
"Okay Loki, thanks to you, now I'm hungry." Casey paused for a moment and then resumed staring Loki up and down, "But I wonder where you put it all..."
Loki replied with a mischievous smile, " Workout, Casey, workout..." His impish look left no doubt as to what kind of workout he was referring to.
Casey pretended to cover his ears. "I don't want to hear about it!"
Loki chuckled, "Too bad you won't hear about another memorable date of ours."
Casey, calmed down, too interested in what was next.
4.
"Uh, wow, that's... that's gorgeous." said Loki, looking around their living room.
The entire room was bathed in a soft glow from a multitude of small candles, scattered here and there.
"Do you like it?" the voice of Mobius whispered in his ear as his lover took off his jacket, before hugging him from behind.
"Hmm." Loki nodded in the embrace.
"I figured we both needed a little break, are you hungry?"
"I'm starving." replied Loki turning his head to drop a kiss on Mobius' cheek.
His lover directed him to the table that Loki had not noticed, perfectly set, bathed in soft light, and garnished with two steaming plates and glasses of fresh wine.
Mobius gallantly pulled out the chair for him to sit on and took a seat opposite him.
They began to eat, discussing their day, their work, and all the while hardly letting go of each other's hands that were entwined on the table.
Then after the dessert, Mobius got up, took the remote control of the music system and a soft music invaded the atmosphere. Under the eyes of Loki, he approached him and offered his hand, « May I have this dance, sweetheart?"
Loki nodded, smiling softly, and took the outstretched hand. Mobius immediately wrapped his arms around him and they began to sway to the soft notes coming from the speakers.
Loki sighed with contentment, his face buried in Mobius' neck.
They must have looked like the epitome of sap and fluff, but at that moment, Loki didn't care. This was them, here, in the privacy of their lives. Their happiness.
They continued to sway for long moments, so absorbed in each other's presence that they didn't notice that the music had stopped.
**********
"Loki... you know I just feel like I'm listening to a digest of all the romcoms out there?"
"Romcom?"
"Romantic comedy.Haha I know something you don't."
Casey laughed cheerfully at Loki.
"Very funny, but do you know what karaoke is?"
"Yep... I'll remind you, since the fish thing, I've been catching up, and I'm learning every day. So what about karaoke?" Casey frowned for a moment and then exclaimed, "No! Karaoke? Who? Mobius or you? Or both?"
Loki chuckled at Casey's excitement.
"Mobius came up with the idea for the date, but I did the singing.
"Tell me about it!"
5.
"Mobius..."
Loki stood on the stage of the small bar, and pointed to his lover leaning at the bar, "Mobius, my partner, brought me here because he dreams of hearing me sing in my native language for him. No one will be able to say I don't like to satisfy my beloved." He blew a fingertip kiss to Mobius under the whistling and wolf howls of the customers. He waved to the DJ and the music started to play. He began to sing in Asgardian, the words and notes flowing naturally on his tongue.
So many people around me without a meaning or a goal
It's always someone left
Tell me, why does it always be like that
Someone from up above must have seen me
And yet thought that it's his turn,
my turn to meet someone who knows what I need
it seems like my lonely days
For its always gone
As he sang this, he began to walk towards Mobius, his eyes in his. He saw the understanding in Mobius' eyes, who, understanding perfectly all languages, grasped perfectly the meaning of the song for Loki and him.
For I have the heaven around the corner
My own angel in a bed
As if all the heavens tiny stars
Sang for me, sang for you
In a wonderful refrain
You are the heaven
around the corner for me
When he reached the end of the song, Mobius' eyes were filled with emotion.
As soon as the last note came out of his mouth, Loki hugged Mobius and kissed him, ignoring the cheers and applause of the customers.
When they separated to catch their breath, Mobius asked him, his forehead against his, in a joking tone, « Am I your own angel?"
Loki grasped his head in his hands and replied seriously, his mouth against his, "You are Mobius. You are the angel that brought me out of my darkness. You saved me from myself." Then he captured his lover's lips again, putting into the kiss all what Mobius meant to him.
**********
"Loki, I think I'll be fine, I think I've had my fill of sweets for the day, if not for the next month. If I get diabetes, you'll be responsible for it."
Loki laughed again and shrugged, "Hey! You're the one who wanted it."
"Well, at least you have a lot of work to do to be on the same level as him, because apart from the karaoke, he still made the most effort."
Loki smiled cheekily, "Hm, I think I made up for it with our one-year anniversary date, but since you don't want any more sweetness... I'll shut up."
Casey pointed his fingers at him, "Ah no Mr. God of Mischief, you're not getting away with this!"
Loki surrendered and began his last tale.
+1
This time it was Loki who had surprised Mobius by blindfolding him and leading him through a timedoor.
When they reached their destination, he slowly untied the blindfold, "You can open your eyes, love."
Mobius opened his eyes and gasped. Then he laughed softly.
Loki hugged him from behind and whispered in his ear, "Happy Anniversary my love. It was here a year ago that I started to fall in love with you."
They were in the TVA cafeteria. Alone, because Loki had made sure of that.
A table, THE table was elegantly set.
Mobius let himself be guided by Loki, who said softly, "I know it's unconventional, that we weren't a couple yet, not at all, but-"
He could not continue, Mobius had closed his mouth with a tender kiss.
Pulling back, he placed a finger on Loki's lips and replied, "Don't justify yourself.First of all, since when are we conventional?" he raised an eyebrow before continuing, "Secondly, you weren't the only one who was already feeling something at that moment sweetheart."
It was he who pulled Loki to the table.
They sat there, almost the same way they had that day, their knees touching in a familiar way. But this time the rest of their bodies were close. They shared the meal, interspersed with renewed oaths, smiles and casual conversation. Just savoring the joy of being together.
Mobius noticed, however, that the closer they got to the end of the meal, the more excited Loki seemed, almost as if he couldn't wait for the dinner to end. So much that once the last bite of dessert was swallowed, he stood up and bounced over to Mobius and held out his hand.
"Our night is not over, I have one more surprise. Can I put the blindfold back on you?"
Amused and intrigued by Loki's excitement, Mobius nodded.
Loki tied the blindfold behind his head, placed a kiss on his forehead and took his hand.
He felt them pass through a timedoor again, then suddenly felt a great warmth around him. He recognized Loki's magic that passed over him, and suddenly felt warm sand under his naked feet.
The blindfold came off and he let his eyes adjust to the light.
For the second time that evening, he gasped, and then almost cried with emotion at the sight before him.
He realized he was in a bathing suit when Loki made him put on a life jacket. Then his lover gently pushed him towards the jetski that was waiting for him at the end of the pontoon. "Go my love, go..."
He moved forward a few steps and then turned back to Loki who was looking at him with a loving smile. "And you? Don't you want to come?"
"You deserve to have your first round alone, don't worry, I'll be there."
Winking at him, Loki pointed to two lounge chairs under an umbrella.
"Go my love."
Loki went backwards to settle on the deckchair and with a cocktail in hand, he did not leave the eyes of his lover who listened to the instructions of the instructor before finally making his first ride of jet-ski.
Long minutes later, he saw Mobius coming towards him, a bright smile on his face, he whispered again, "Happy Anniversary my love."
________
As always, bear with me as it is not beta'd and english is not my native language I hope you enjoyed it 🥰
Song used for the karaoke date : Himlen runt hörnet by Lisa Nilsson
Whole series of oneshot here : X
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animeyanderelover · 3 years
Note
I'd love to see Hashirama with prompt 74. “As long as you love me everything is alright. You…you do love me, right?”
👍.
Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, obsessiveness, delusions, clinginess, angsty stuff
Prompt 74: “As long as you love me everything is alright. You...you do love me, right?”
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You remembered that there had been often times where you had wished that Hashirama would just calm down since he was often a lot to deal with. He was always so clingy and the amount of affection he gave you was nearly suffocating, not to mention that you hadn’t forgotten the incident with your clothes. But that wasn’t even the biggest problem in here. No, that all was terrible too, but could be ended by a breakup. And that was the worst in here. Leaving him would be as good as impossible. Not only was there the danger of the whole village being disappointed in you as well as having his furious little bro in your neck, but Hashirama himself could possess quite the threat. He was Hokage. He had power. He could ruin you and your family’s life if he felt like and even get away with it. As much as Hashirama was a sunshine and almost a bit like a child, you had catched up onto one thing at some point into this relationship. Hashirama had a dark side to him. Everyone had, you knew that. You had one as well. But it became dangerous when this dark side was able to ruin someone else like Hashirama was. Luckily he didn’t let this side out very often, it was rarely seen because around you he was always the loving and smothering husband. But that made it also so much more terrifying if this side of him came out. Because it was almost like witnessing a nightmare in real life when seeing this man getting serious and mad.
But you had never seen him like this. He seemed so...so discouraged. So hopeless. So small. You had expected that he would be depressed after Madara had left the village, the man he had considered as his best friend. The man who he had happily introduced you to, the man who he had always stood up for, the man who had betrayed him and had attacked him. You couldn’t even image how hard this must have been for him. And the comments from Tobirama hadn’t really helped at all. He had just scolded him that he should have listened to him before and that he had been right after all about Madara. You and Mito had to literally hit him on his head to snap him out of his lecturing speech and help him realize how devastated Hashirama had looked. You had often seen him sulking about something or being depressed over more childish things. But this had only lasted for a short while, not concerning you too much at the end of the day. He had always been able to get over those small things very quickly and go back to his more goofy self. And that was the thing that had you currently worry the most. He hadn’t gone back to his old self. Instead he had been those last few days after the incident more quiet and thoughtful than usual, causing you to worry yourself almost sick over him. But the most heartbreaking thing you had witnessed so far was how needy he had suddenly gotten. It wasn’t the usual clingyness, it was almost like a desperation, a desire to know that you wouldn’t leave him like his friend had.
“Hey Hashi. What’s wrong?” Hashirama turned slightly surprised, slightly tired around when hearing your soft voice calling him. It was early morning, the sky still dark and most people would have still payed soundly asleep in bed. But not you two. When his gaze met yours he gave you a small smile. But it didn’t look like the ones he usually gave you. Of course there was still warmth and eternal love in it, but he also looked exhausted as well as if he was in pain. “Oh. Hey, darling. I didn’t want to wake you up. I’m sorry for disturbing your sleep. Go back to bed, it’s still pretty early.” You didn’t move, instead glancing with eyes filled with sadness at him. He looked so incredibly vulnerable as hunched over as he was sitting on the couch. Where was the once so energetic and always happy guy who you had so often a day called a moron because he had done something stupid? Where had that man gone? And when would he come back? You couldn’t just let him sit here and let him drown in self sorrow. You had to do at least try to do something for him. He had done so much for you too. So you slowly made your way over to the couch, slowly sitting down next to him. He didn’t react, instead staring with a hollow yet also sorrowful look in his eyes in the space, telling you what he was seeing right now before his inner eye could only be seen by him. You felt a small “pang” in your chest when seeing him spacing out like this, his eyes having lost the light they used to always have inside of them. How could you have ever thought of his personality as annoying and too much? Had you ever even considered that this might have been the reason why he had been even able to reach the position he was currently in right now? He had worked more than anybody else to establish the village and make peace with the other villages. His sometimes almost careless and easygoing looking attitude had given people always courage and hope.
But now he looked so broken, like a small child who needed protection. Or just someone who would be there for you. And if this person had to be you then you would damn well do it. Everything to get him out of his misery, the whole atmosphere in the village had already started to change and became more gloomy due to their leader being on his knees. You sighed worriedly, laying your hand on top of his. Hashirama didn’t look at you, but was quick to grab your hand and intervene his fingers with you, the pressure he put on your hand being only a bit too tight as if being scared that something might happen at the moment. “Hashirama,”, the tone you used reminded you of the one your mother used to use on you, strict yet gentle,”please look me in my eyes.” You had the feeling that he needed a moment or two before your words finally seemed to register in his brain and you almost thought that he wanted to avoid looking you in your face by the way he turned so incredibly slowly his head around to meet your gaze. He was ashamed, you could tell from the way he didn’t dare to look you in your eyes, always looking quickly down whenever he managed to look you for a short second in your eyes. You tried to give him some time to adjust, waiting patiently until he seemed to be a bit less tense than before.
“It’s not your fault, you know. I mean with Madara.” It wasn’t a very wise decision to mention his name like this, but you had to directly talk with Hashirama about this, even though he stiffened when hearing his name again. “No one blames you Hashi. Not the village, not your clan, not your brother nor Mito. And me neither. We all know you tried your best. The best might sometimes not be enough, but it’s the will that counts. You don’t need to be perfect or anything like this. It was Madara’s decision and you couldn’t have done anything to help him. I understand that it must be hard for you to live with the knowledge that your best friend turned against you and that you had to fight him. It’s a heavy burden on your soul and heart, but you aren’t alone with this. You have so many people in your life who are there for you. You just have to look out of the window and see the village, the people in there who are willing to help you. As harsh as it may sound, but you have to eventually let go of him. I don’t demand from you to erase those memories of of you and him together, but I ask you to accept that you couldn’t have done everything to stop him and to stop thinking that it’s all your fault. There are people who need you right now. So please stop being so sad and try to live with it. And if you aren’t strong enough to carry this on your own, I’m here for you just like your brother, Mito and so many more. Alright?”
Hashirama stared shocked at you, looking like he hadn’t expected you to say this. But only a short moment later the impact of what you had just said hit him. You had never seen him that emotional before which caused your heart to clench from sadness seeing him like this. You could see the visible hurt in his eyes, the feeling of not being able to do anything and prevent it from happening, the hurt of being betrayed from someone you had known for such a long time. The thing that made it even more bitter for you was that you also saw some of the emotions his eyes always used to hold for you when looking at you. The adoration and infinite love he used to have and still had for you. Together with his somewhat forced yet also thankful and sincere smile it let you feel an emotion that you couldn’t name, not knowing how to feel about the dualism of feelings displayed on his face. “As long as you love me everything is alright.” When saying this he suddenly crawled closer towards you, hugging your waist and laying his head on your lap. And you felt like your heart had just shattered in your chest, witnessing this complete action of utter desperation from his side. He had just come crawling to you like an insecure child needing comfort.
“You...you do love me, right?” You glanced down at him, looking at his eyes that begged you silently to tell him you did. What was this? Why was he doing this? Was he afraid that you would leave him too just like Madara did? Was that the reason why he was acting so needy right now? Did he need to hear that you loved him that badly? There were so many quest swirling around in your mind, but you put them all for the moment aside, focusing on the man clinging tightly onto your waist and tugging slightly on the fabric of your pajamas, wanting, needing you to answer his question. And how could you have said no to him when he was in such a fragile state like right now. “Of course I do, Hashi. I always will.”
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lynn-writes-things · 3 years
Note
I'd like to request Tech and reader being both shy nerds who are too afraid to say that they like the other BUT then they need to share a bed >.> (Bonus if this all leads to some fluffy smut <3 )
Thank you for the request!! Hope you enjoy! <3
Warning: SOFT nsfw at the end
-
You’ve had a bit of a crush on Tech since you first began with the Bad Batch. You found him incredibly interesting, and loved listening to him talk. Unfortunately, you were very shy, and found it nearly impossible to talk to him, let alone confess your feelings. Feelings that you weren’t even supposed to be feeling in the first place- feelings that Tech shouldn’t feel either, and most likely didn’t – you reminded yourself.
But oh, he did. Tech had it bad for you, and his brothers teased him for it constantly when you weren’t around. He loved the way that you were so passionate, so strong-willed and determined to do your best at everything you tried. He admired that about you. You never gave up, even when things didn’t seem to be going your way. Not to mention, he found you absolutely stunning. You were all that he could think about – day in, day out. But, similar to you, he was also rather shy when it came to talking to you. Good thing he had four brothers who were more than willing to help out.
Echo watched in fascination as the boys talked about ways to seduce you – he was shocked anyone could possibly be worse with women than karking Kix and Fives when it came to pickup lines, but low-and-behold…
“Just tell her, ‘baby, you shine brighter than all the stars in the sky.’” Hunter suggested, causing Echo to snort with laughter. Hunter didn’t usually use pickup lines, and it showed. (AN: he doesn’t have to--)
“Don’t tell her that.” He chimed in.
“Buy her flowers, girls like flowers.” Crosshair suggested.
“No!” Echo interjected. “Do you know her? She has allergies!”
“So find hypoallergenic flowers!” He shot back. Echo didn’t know he could facepalm so hard.
“Those don’t exist, di’kuit.” Hunter said, giving Cross’ shoulder a light shove.
“Maybe you should just… Tell her?” Wrecker suggested, causing everyone to look at him in disbelief, short of Echo. “Y/N doesn’t like games, just get straight to the point. That’s not too bad, is it?” He asks, mostly to Echo, who smiles and nods.
“That is a man who knows Y/N.” Echo agreed. So, Tech decided, when you landed and got some time alone, when the mood was right, he’d confess.
-
Except, when you’d landed, you were ushered into separate rooms – everyone got their own room, except for you and Tech, who had to share a room. Most likely at the suggestion of the boys. Once he was alone with you, Tech found that he just… Couldn’t. He just couldn’t talk to you about how much he loved you. He panicked even farther when he realized that there was only one bed in the room…
“So…” You spoke up first.
“So,” Tech sighed. “I can take the floor, if you—"
“No, no!” You’re quick to brush him off. “You can have the bed, I’ll—”
“No, I’m not letting you sleep on the floor.” He argued.
“So, we’re sharing the bed, then?” You ask with a little giggle at the awkwardness. Tech smiled at your laughter.
“It would appear so.”
-
You start off on separate sides of the bed. And really, you both intended on keeping it that way… or did you?
“It’s kinda cold in here,” You say quietly.
“Yeah,” He agrees. “Do you uh… Want to get closer?” He suggests, mentally slapping himself for the awkward delivery or what could’ve been a smooth line.
“Would that be okay?” You ask timidly.
“Of course.” He says, and so you do. Before long, you get talking, and things get a little less awkward. As the awkwardness subsides, you ask to change positions, so you both could sleep a little more comfortably. You turned on your other side, and Tech curled up behind you.
That, in itself, presented a new problem that Tech had not considered being a possibility – his cock was dangerously close to your ass. Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t – oh great. He thought, growing hard already, and trying to get distance between his hips and yours. Only that doesn’t work so well, as you back up in search of his warmth, only to feel something hard up against your ass. Your eyes shoot open, and you can feel your face burning up as you bite at your lip – a nervous habit you couldn’t quite control.
“I-I’m sorry—” He begins, trying to back away again.
“W-Wait,” You cut him off. “You don’t… I mean, uh… If you want, I could maybe help you with that?” You suggest, heart pounding in your chest. You were so nervous you were surprised you could even function.
“You…” He was quiet for a moment, processing your offer. “What did you have in mind?” He asks, not wanting to overstep.
“I really like you Tech,” You begin, the words falling out of your mouth before you could stop them. “If you want to have sex, I uh… I’d be okay with that. I’d be more than okay with that.” You say. Carefully, his hands slide down your side to your hip.
“You’re sure?”
“I am.” You answer, and his hand moves from your hip to caress your face, gently prompting you to look up so he could kiss you. His kiss was hot, and you melted into it with ease, kissing back. It was slow and sensual, and you felt so much from it – you don’t think you’d ever been kissed that way before. He pulls away, and you roll onto your back chasing after him, which was exactly what he was hoping for as he now sits up. He looks down at your bottoms, and you waste little time in kicking them off, sitting up to pull your shirt off. Tech gets busy doing the same, and soon the two of you are sitting in bed naked. Your lips connect again, and your hands find Tech’s shoulders, pulling him down with you as you lay back down. He moves to sit between your legs, and you wrap them around his hips.
“Eager, aren’t you?” He remarks with a teasing smirk.
“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted this.” You laugh breathily. He inserts a finger into your slit, and you whimper at the sensation. His lips find yours once more, and you bite as his lip as he adds a second finger, pumping in and out of you in a slow pace.
“Maybe almost as long as I have,” He says, breaking away from your lips enough to remove his fingers and line his cock up with your entrance, slowly pushing in. You cry out as he enters- he’s bigger than you expected. You clench around him, and he takes it as his cue to start thrusting.
“Y/N,” He says quietly, intimately, his hips slowly thrusting into yours as his fingers find your clit, rubbing slow circles onto your sensitive bud of nerves. “I’ve liked you for so long.” He admits, thrusting particularly deep and hitting your g-spot, causing you to moan loudly, muffling it with the back of your wrist.
“I—” You whine as he hits that spot again. “Tech, I’ve liked you since I first joined,” You pant, already getting close. “I had a crush on you from the first time I saw you.” You admitted, and he leans down to kiss you again. You whine when his fingers speed up their pace on your clit.
“I think I’m in love with you, Y/N,” Tech admits, his forehead against yours. “I really do.”
“I think I’m in love with you too, Tech.” You reply. “Maker, I’m so close—” You whimper.
“Where do you want me to come?” He asks, courteous as ever.
“I’m on birth control, you can come inside,” You suggest, and the way his eyes roll back at the idea isn’t lost on you. (A/N: DO NOT!!!!!!!!!! SW birth control is NOT real birth control!!!)
He speeds up only slightly, kissing your lips, your neck, and anywhere else he can reach. His fingers also pick up their pace, and the combined pleasure sends you tumbling over the edge, crying out his name as you come on his cock. He groans into your neck, biting down as he comes deep inside of your aching core.
“I love you,” He whispers as he comes. “I love you,”
“I love you too,” You respond. “I love you so much, Tech.”
The two of you stay like that for a minute, catching your breaths, before he pulls out and collapses next to you. You don’t bother cleaning up, you’re both too tired now. You curl up together, and finally, you both fall asleep.
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Text
Ain't No Sunshine - Part 1
Logan howlett x reader x Scott Summers
Word count: 1.1k
A/N: Part 1 of a 5 part series!!! I'm so excited to be writing these - the chapters aren't going to be that long each, but once I've written + posted them all I'll be compiling them into an entire fic and posting that. If that makes sense...aha. anyways, enjoy!! - Honey
(Also, this is written about James Marsden's cyclops but I guess it could work with both!)
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"YES! I DID IT!" You screamed, turning to Scott; he bore just as wide of a grin as you. Excitedly, you wrapped your arms around him, and he did the same - you had been trying to master an aspect of your powers for months, and you finally got it right. You pulled away slightly to look up at him and lifted a hand up to cup his face, running your thumb across his cheekbone.
"Thank you for helping me..." you whispered, basking in his warmth. He placed his hand on top of yours, stroking your knuckles.
"It's my pleasure." He spoke softly, a smile curving at the edges of his lips.
You had been working at the school for just under a year, teaching combat & self defense. Charles knew you had powers, so he enlisted the help of Scott to aid you in your journey. Four months ago, you and Scott discovered what your powers were - the ability to control and manipulate mutations. You could temporarily take people's powers away, heighten and weaken other's mutations, and even 'borrow' somebody else's abilities. Despite this, you were struggling with the latter; but today you finally managed to steal Scott's power and shoot 1 laser blast at a target, something you've both been working on for such a long time.
Both smiling like idiots, you suddenly realised that your faces were centimetres apart. Though before you could do anything, somebody cleared their throat from the doorway. Quickly stepping away from each other, you felt heat rise to the tips of your ears. Logan stood at the door of your training room, leaning an arm against the door frame, glaring at Scott.
"Xavier wants to see you, y/n." Logan growled, not taking his eyes off the man next to you. Luckily, you made your escape - you could probably cut the tension between Logan and Scott with a knife.
When you joined the school, you could've never guessed that you'd be pursued by not one, but two romantic interests. The first person you met upon entering the academy was Logan, who consequently had to give you the tour; he was pretty solitary when you first met him, yet he warmed up to you as you spent more time at the school. You had met Scott shortly afterwards, while exploring the grounds; one of the children accidentally pushed you down the stairs, causing you to fall what felt like hundreds of feet. Thankfully, Scott was right underneath and managed to catch you, holding you bridal style. (Sure, it may not have been the best way to meet somebody, but it's the cause of a lot of inside jokes between you both.)
Once you were out of earshot, walking down the seemingly endless corridor to Xaviers office, Logan closed the door.
"You two having fun?" He asked, brows furrowed. A slight chuckle escaped Scott's lips as he crossed the room, facing the wolverine. "What's it to ya, grandpa?"
Logan sneered as Scott opened the door and walked away, leaving him in the empty gym.
As you made your way up the large oak stairs, you thought long and hard about what had just happened. You weren't oblivious to all the jealousy the two men shared, you had simply gotten used to it; but making a move on either of them, choosing between two of your closest friends - it was torture. You knew that if you didn't talk to them soon, then other girls would snap them up in a second...yet if you were to make a decision, you wouldn't even know where to start.
Reaching Professor Xaviers office, you gave the door a few knocks before entering.
"Good afternoon, y/n. Take a seat."
Smiling, you walked over to the small leather chair on the other side of his desk and plopped yourself down. Professor Xavier was in an oddly good mood...why?
"I'm very pleased to hear that you've completed your training."
"How did you know?"
With a smirk, he tapped his head.
"I know everything."
☆☆☆☆☆
Despite it being a chilly evening, that night you felt incredibly warm. Surrounded by all of your friends, Ororo had arranged a small party to celebrate you finally grasping your powers; you, Scott, Logan, Jean, Charles, Kurt, Ororo, Peter and Hank were all in the common area, music humming from the record player. You sat on one of the brown leather sofas, a beer in your hand, next to Hank. He was talking about something scientific, but you weren't really listening - your gaze was focused on Logan, who was seemingly leaving. Apologising to Hank, you followed Logan out of the lively room and into the gardens.
"Leaving so soon?"
He turned to see you leant against one of the stone pillars, your hair blowing in the wind. He laughed slightly, and took a step back towards you.
"Yeah, parties were never really my thing."
Now it was your turn to laugh, hearing your favourite song come on from inside.
"Well, we aren't at a party now...would you dance with me?"
Instead of answering, he took a few more steps towards you until you were pressed together, chest to chest. He gripped your waist, motioning for you to wrap you arms around his neck. You both swayed slightly on the spot, your dress flapping with the breeze.
"I wish we could have more moments like this," you whispered. "Where it's just the two of us."
He hummed in agreement, searching your eyes. He looked down at you with such adoration, the moonlight reflecting off your gentle face.
"There's just always something that needs doing. People to save, mutants to protect." He replied, sighing. "I'm surprised we managed to escape without being caught..."
Just as he said that, you heard Charles's voice in your head.
"Y/n and Logan, please meet me in my office."
By the look on his face, clearly Logan heard it too. You gave him a knowing smile.
"You were saying? I guess we weren't the only people who left."
As you and Logan sat down in Professor Xavier's office, Charles began explaining why you were there.
"We've had news about the MRD. Tomorrow, there'll be an attack a few miles from here, and I'd like to send the two of you out to protect any vulnerable mutants."
"I don't think I should go." You replied, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. "My suit is still damaged from the last mission, Hank hasn't had time to repair it."
Charles smiled at you. "Suits won't be needed, y/n. You two will be going undercover as husband and wife."
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gvf-imagines · 4 years
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Part 1
(Josh/Danny/Jake/Sam x reader)
Warnings: alcohol use, self harm scars
word count:  3252
Thanks to @callmekane for beta reading this fic!
A/N: I’m excited about what this story will bring! This is going to be a very smut filled fan fiction series where the reader has a very sexual and open relationship with all of the boys! I know some people won’t like it I’m sure but all criticism is welcome! Please leave comments and let me know what you think and of course if you have an idea for the story I’m totally open to hearing your thoughts! I hope you enjoy it my friends ❣️
If you’d like to be on the tag-list so you know when I post part 2 just message me or let me know in the comments!
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You smiled as you ran off stage, the fans were still screaming and kept screaming until the next band took the stage. The air was electric, so many people, all here to enjoy the great communicator that is music. You closed your eyes to take it all in, to just listen and feel. You couldn't believe you were here, playing in front of this many people. This year you shared the stage with another up and coming band by the name of Greta Van Fleet. You hadn't heard of them before recently and they were actually really good. They had so much soul and passion in their music, it was true, raw talent. 
You watched from the side stage as they played their eclectic set. The singer, Josh, really got the crowd going. He had so much energy and was really fun to watch. His voice was incredible, unbelievable even. He had this raspy, elegant twang in his voice, that truly matched perfectly with the music his band was producing. The drummer, Danny (if you remembered correctly), had such a powerful and classic Drumming style. It was full of life and emotion , just like you, he put his all into his performance. He was focused and truly the heart of the music. There was a guitarist and a Bassist, unlike your band which only consisted of you and your best friend. You, the drummer and your friend the singer and guitarist. The bassist, Sam,  had a very cool way about him, his body moved with the music in a way that seemed beyond his control. The guitarist, Jake , was stunning, his hands danced along his guitar so expertly, you could tell he truly enjoyed his time with his instrument. 
When they finished their set, the crowd erupted in a wave of applause and cheers, like bright yellow and orange fireworks booming through the air, you watched with your minds eye, in awe as they exploded and cracked in the sky. The Boys bowed and waved before walking off stage panting and sweating.
“Nice job!, excellent show” you comment smiling. Danny returned the smile with a grateful nod. 
“Aw thank you, I'm sorry I don't think we had a chance to meet before the show, I’m Dan-” he began.
“You're Danny, Sam , Jake , and Josh” you said, pointing to each of them and smiling. They all returned the smile, there was positive energy just radiating from them, you could feel it like a blanket of warmth resting over you. 
“My name is (y/n), it's so nice to meet you guys!” you chime happily. The lead singer, Josh smiles at and you think you catch a small wink as well, making your heart skip a beat. Perhaps you were seeing things. God he's handsome, his sparkling brown eyes, he had more structure in his jawline than you had in your entire life His chestnut hair was gorgeous and curly, his whole look just attracted you to no end. 
Fuck. 
“Hey your performance was super amazing too, your voice is absolutely incredible” Sam complimented, his voice popped all the bubbly thoughts of josh that foamed in your head. Thank goodness. “Yeah! You did an excellent job (y/n). Its one thing to be a good singer when you have three other band members to help you sound good, but you were out there all alone, just your voice and you still blew that crowd away” Danny added. You were blushing for sure now. 
“Yeah your voice is crazy good, we're honored to play alongside you” Jake chimed. 
“Oh wow you guys are gonna make me cry” you chuckle “thank you so much, that means a lot coming from someone with your talent” you reply. Sam waves his hand incredulously as if you were hyping them up and making them out to be better than they really were.. You weren't. They are  awe inspiring musicians.
“Water?” a stagehand offered walking over with a cooler. 
“Oh thank fucking Christ” Josh rendered making a bee line for the cooler. You chuckled, and now that you thought of it your throat was extremely dry from singing as well. Jake nicely offered you the bottle he grabbed with a smile. A true gentleman. 
“Thank you!” you offer as you grab the bottle from him. You practically ripped the cap off and chugged the whole bottle. It was delicious and cold and ran over your tongue and down your throat with a refreshingly cold bite. 
The five of you stand there and re hydrate for a minute before Sam speaks “we should go grab a drink!” he suggests with a slight raise of his perfect eyebrows. The guys look at you in waiting. 
“You wanna join us?” Josh asks, flashing a pearly white smile. You look around at them for a mere second before responding. 
“Sure! Yeah that sounds fun” 
“Right on, I think I saw a bar down the street we can go to” Jake claims as you all head to the doors behind the dressing rooms. 
Rain began to expel from the dark clouds above you as you all headed down the road. Cold air kisses your skin causing you to shiver slightly, you only had on black leather pants and a pink floral pattern blouse that you tied up a bit to expose part of your stomach. It was late, must have been almost midnight by now, the air was heavy with moisture and you could smell the rain soaked cement under your feet. 
“Are you cold?” Josh questions as he walks beside you, he startled you a bit. You smiled and looked at your arms, they were dotted with goosebumps. 
“Yeah kinda” you reply sheepishly. Josh instantly takes off the jean jacket he was wearing and handed it to you. Jake and the others were a few feet behind the two of you carrying on a conversation about the show. You reached out and accepted the jacket, Josh's gaze nonchalantly floated down your arm, his face fell when he noticed the deep scars that peppered across your skin near your wrists. You notice him looking at them before he brings his gaze back up to meet yours. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment and you quickly put the jacket on. 
“I-I’m sorry, I didn't mean to stare” he says softly, looking down at the wet street. You knew by the tone in his voice he wasn't judging you. His look was filled with concern, not judgement.
“It's alright, people stare all the time” you responded 
“It doesn't bother me so much anymore, i'm used to it.” you added. Josh nods, a sad look still lingers on his gentle face. His jacket was warm, his scent filled your nose, it was comfortable and soothing, much like the rain that fell from the sky. You looked at him out of the corner of your eye, you could tell he was thinking about something, he had that  thousand yard stare stuck in his eyes. You hadn't known Josh for long but it's not hard to tell when someone is enthralled in thought.
“How long have you been singing?” you ask, trying to pull him from whatever trance he was in. 
“A long time, most of my life really” he answers with a smile. Talking about his music clearly made him happy. He in turn asked you the same question. You laugh before responding. 
“Honestly I've only been singing for a few years….drumming is my real talent and I've been doing that for most of my life, coming up on 18 years” you explain. Josh’s expression shifted from a smile to a look of surprise.
“Wow that’s awesome , are you self taught?” he asks again. You nodded “my dad taught me a few things here and there more when I first started out but, mostly I've taught myself” you said. Josh chuckled with a nod.
“That is really cool” he replied, you could tell by the tone and instance of his voice that he was genuinely impressed. 
“Oo careful on the compliments you've never heard me play before, just because I've been playing for a long time doesn't mean i’m any good” you joke, Josh laughs, shakes his head and nudges your shoulder. 
“Well have to get you behind Danny's kit some time” he implores. Hearing him say that made you happy, it meant he wanted to see you again. 
“You guys did really good tonight, I cant believe I've never heard of you guys before really. It wasn't until my manager told me who I'd be playing with at the festival that I started looking into you guys.” you admit. 
“Thanks you did an excellent job too, i really loved that first song you sang, ‘salt is my sugar’ I really resonated with that one, truly felt it, there's a lot of emotion in your lyrics.
“This is it,” Sam announces opening the front door and holding it for everyone to walk in. the smell of smoke and dark liquor hang heavy in the air. An ACDC song played over the speakers. It wasn't very busy, there was an older man sitting at the bar, a couple younger people playing pool and a few others scattered in booths. It was a total dive bar, a hole in the wall, which was just your style. You all sat at the bar on squeaky worn out bar stools. 
“What can I get you?” the bartender asked, perching himself up with his arms rested on the bar as a washrag sat, oh so typically, on his shoulder as he awaited your response. Jake looked at Josh with a raised brow giving him that ‘get a load of this guy’ look. 
“I'll have a beer,” Danny ordered. 
“Me as well please” Jake adds.
“Southern comfort and seven up for me please” you order next. 
“Hmm I'll have a long island iced tea” Sam says. You look at him holding back a chuckle Huh didn't take him for a long island iced tea kinda guy but to each their own. The bartender looked to josh. 
“Salty dog please” he requests.
“Put your IDs on the counter” the bartender instructs as he turns around to collect everyone's drinks. The five of you did as you were told and laid out your IDs. 
“So where are you guys headed now that the festival is over?” you asked playing with a stained, old coaster that sat in front of you. 
“We’re going back to Michigan for some well deserved time off” Josh responds. 
“For a little while anyways” he adds with a smile. 
“Hey I live in silver city!” you reply happily , silver city was a small town in Michigan closer to the upper peninsula. 
“Small world” you added. What are the chances the two of you lived within a few hours of each other and never met until the both of you played a festival in Los Angeles. 
You turn your attention to the combination of alcoholic drinks that the bartender set in front of you. Everyone reached for theirs offering quick cheers before taking a drink. The carbonation of the seven up burned against your throat before the alcohol sent the warming sensation through your chest and stomach. 
“Ah yum” you said, wincing from the sharpness of the alcohol. Jake laughed as he watched you.
“Not very convincing,” Sam says smiling. You laugh and take another drink. You watch Josh stir his drink lightly with the small straw it came with, he notices you looking. 
“Ever had a salty dog before?” he asks, hoping you say no. 
You simply shake your head in reply. He slides his drink closer to you. 
“We can share if you want, it's really good?” he offers. You look at the pink drink in front of you. 
“What's in it?” you ask. 
“It's just gin and grapefruit juice with a little salt around the rim,” he says. 
“Oh god that sounds horrible” you laugh.
“It's actually not that bad” Danny pipes up with a shrug.
“He made me try it a few weeks ago,” he adds. 
“Alright I'll take your word for it” you smile at Danny. You look back down at the drink. 
“I promise I didn't spike it” Josh chimes.  You laugh loudly, why would he even say that? 
“That's exactly what someone who spiked my drink would say” 
“But I guess I trust you guys” you add before taking a healthy sip of the beverage. 
“Hmm that's not bad!” conclude, it was much sweeter than you thought it would be, it kind of reminded you of orange juice and vodka. Josh nods with an I told you so sort of look on his face. 
“Here, try mine,” Sam says next, handing you his glass. 
“Alright you try mine too” you reply with a smile. Sam's slender fingers brush against yours as he grabs the drink from you , your eyes look to his and he winks. 
Oh god, I can't be attracted to two of them. Honestly, who were you kidding? You were insanely attracted to all of them, how were they ALL so cute and gorgeous? Not fair to the rest of man-kind. 
“Wow this one is super good!” you remark going in for another drink of the long island iced tea. 
“Yeah can you believe there's like 8 different alcohols in there? No tea at all” he laughs, you laughed with him. His laugh was sweet and light, like orange sparkling shards of glass dancing through the air. The five of you began talking about life and learning a lot about each other, ordering more drinks along the way. You could tell the mix of drinks was beginning to take effect on you, you felt warm and relaxed. You were standing next to Danny now, he towered over you, this man was truly a beast.the smell of his cologne wrapped around you. It was oaky and mossy with a hint of citrus, you couldn't help but feel an electrifying pull of attraction to him.
For fucks sake, you curse yourself.  
A few games of pool (which, it turns out Jake is like a God at pool) later you all found yourselves back at the bar carrying on more conversation, albeit more slurred now. It was much easier to open up to people when alcohol was involved. You rolled the sleeves of josh's jacked up, exposing your arms as the alcohol was making you extremely warm.
“What happened to you?” the bartender asks loudly. You and the guys all look at him with hints of confusion. 
“I got the worst concoction of my parents DNA possible” you joke , the boys laugh. Jake nudges your shoulder. 
“Shut up you're gorgeous” he says softly. You give him a quick smile. 
“No. Your arm. What happened to your arm.” the bartender says again, nodding to your scars. You hated when people asked that question, like they didn't know why you had those scars on your wrists. Very few things leave scars like that on skin. You looked around at the guys, josh looked pissed and the others looked saddened as this was the first time they had seen your scars, and they knew damn well what it was from, they weren’t as stupid as this bartender. The air of the bar had shifted, the mood went from fun loving to hostile very quickly. Fuck this guy.
“I got in a fight with a weed wacker” you retort sarcastically. The man rolls his eyes.
“What happened? Did your little boyfriend break up with you? Flunk a class? Your puppy ran away?” he was mocking you. You said nothing in return.
“You're just another one of those emotionally confused little girls, no reason to hate her life.” he continues. For some reason he was trying to upset you , and you had no idea why, you'd been nothing but pleasant to the man since the moment you entered the bar.
“First of all i'm not a girl, I'm a woman. Who pissed in your Wheaties this morning man? You're mad because you got all D’s in high school and now you're stuck serving losers like us in this shit hole, pretentious, sorry excuse of a bar? Go fuck yourself. I don’t hate my life.” you answer , anger pooling in your throat. 
“Hey man. Lay off.” Danny says with a look of warning. 
“Of course you don't hate your life” the man says ignoring Danny completely. 
“You just do it for attention, think if you slice yourself up maybe someone will feel bad for you huh? I've seen your kind before girl.” he speaks again. OK now this idiot was pissing you off. You never did it for attention, attention was the last thing you wanted, especially when it came to your scars, you wished you could erase them.
“Look, I've got three things to say to you,” you reply with an irritated sigh. You stood up from your stool and stepped closer to the man. 
“One” you say, holding up your pointer finger giving the illusion that you were going to list reasons of argument to him. Instead you ball your hand into a fist and punch the guy right in his fucking jaw with all your drunken might. To your surprise (and no doubt everyone else's) the bartender fell to the floor, you knocked him out.. Everyone was wide eyed and silent 
“Lets get outta here” Josh says, breaking the glistening silence in the bar, noticing everyone looking at the five of you. Jake grabbed a bottle of Jack before all of you ran out of the door. None of you could suppress your laughs as you took off down the street. Out of breath you all keeled over in a field of grass a few feet from the tour buses in a fit of laughter. You sat down on the wet grass and looked up at the clouds. Danny sat on your left and Sammy was on your right, Josh and Jake sat in front of you and you all formed a small little circle. 
“That felt good” you say softly, referring to punching that shit head of a bartender. Sam laughed.
“Yeah that was awesome, I can't believe you knocked him out” Jake chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. The air went silent again as you all sat with your own thoughts. Your face slowly lost emotion as thoughts of what the man said swirled around your mind. You tried not to let what people said to you about your scars get to you too much but it was hard sometimes. Danny noticed your expression and you felt his hand draw soft circles on your back.
“That guy was an idiot. He was just being an asshole” Josh said softly, you nodded, knowing he was right. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe you were just really that sad but a tear fell down your face and your voice cracked as you spoke. 
“I just feel so alone sometimes” you wiped the tears away as quickly as they fell. You could feel all of them watching you with sympathetic eyes.
“Everyone's got their vice (y/n)” Danny said quietly, his hand still grazing your back. 
Josh rolls his shirt sleeve up and reveals dozens of little horizontal scars covering his shoulder. He grabs your hand and you look up at him to meet his gaze. He stroked your hand with his thumb and gave you a comforting, gentle look. 
“You're not alone”
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elliotlikespuke · 6 years
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Yo, oh my gosh, I didn't realize that you write for TMI! No problem if this isn't up your alley, but I'd love to see something where Alec wakes up in the middle of the night and, like, immediately throws up over the side of the bed, but he's worried that Magnus will be angry, so he tries to clean it up himself until Magnus wakes up and takes care of him. I love your work/blog!!!
This is The Fastest I have ever filled a request. I’m pretty sure I got it like an hour ago and I already filled it. Elliot, who have you become? You have 45 unfilled requests you fucking reprobate.
Warnings: graphic depictions of vomit (operative word being graphic), fever, illness, chinese food
Alec had been practically unconscious at 9pm. After the dinner Magnus had made, they both collapsed into bed, planning on cuddling or talking for a while. They hadn’t had the chance, because as soon as Alec’s head hit the pillow, he was out.
Magnus didn’t mind. Alec’s family had been giving him a hard time lately, and with the death of Max everything had been much harder on the Lightwoods. It couldn’t be easy to lose your little brother when he was so young. It couldn’t be easy to lose your little brother ever.
For a while, he had watched Alec sleep, watched him snore occasionally, murmur sometimes, drooling slightly on the pillow. He never usually drooled… It didn’t matter. Eventually, Magnus fell asleep as well, allowing himself to curl up and succumb to the warmth of the body next to his.
Alec’s eyes shot open. Something was wrong, but he couldn’t place it yet. He looked around the room, trying desperately to find the clock that would tell him the time. In the near-pitch-darkness, he couldn’t so much as orient which side of the bed he was on. This kind of disorientation was new for the Shadowhunter, who was used to having his compass rune at all times.
A weight settled into his stomach before he could think about it, or maybe it had always been there. He came to notice its existence too late. His stomach still felt swollen with last night’s dinner, like he hadn’t digested it yet. It might make sense if he could find the damn clock. His mouth was filling with saliva faster than he could swallow it, and he didn’t exactly want to swallow it. He had to fight each swallow, desperate for it to go down, and they only succeeded in making him feel fuller.
If there were ever a time to swear, this was it.
He had no time. In the blink of an eye, vomit was rising up his esophagus without the need of so much as a gag. He covered his mouth desperately, trying to think of a plan. His brain was moving so slowly his thoughts might well have been molasses. There was no time for a plan.
Alec leaned over the side of the bed and opened his mouth, gagging softly once, and unleashing a tide of vomit to the shag rug beneath them. Fuck, oh fuck. Before he could think, he was hit again with the urge to gag, the sick instinct to bring up whatever was in his gut. The chow mein he and Magnus had made was horrible coming back up, and he suddenly had to fight the urge to cry. He shuddered weakly instead.
He was sick again, a heave pulling more sick from his aching stomach. It was louder this time, getting more audible as his body struggled to bring up the contents of his stomach. His skin burned, sore and aching, like he was one big bruise. He wanted to let himself be swallowed up by a black hole.
He and Magnus had only been together a few weeks, and them staying the night was rare. Alec usually had to sneak out, or at least just not tell his parents he was leaving. If he were to ruin this, he would be ruining the best thing in his life. Magnus was something else, unbelievably kind, and generous, and thoughtful and funny, and a good cook and —
Alec bit back a groan and once again tried to think of a plan. He was still leaning over the side of the bed. He wasn’t sure if the vomit smelled as bad as it seemed to him, or if he was simply being hit double time by the sour taste in his mouth. He wasn’t even sure how you could clean a shag rug, especially of something this volatile.
Magnus was, incredibly, still asleep. Alec slipped out of the foot of the bed, not wanting to step over the puddle of sick in case he stepped in it. He padded gently to the bathroom, which wasn’t much of a problem for him: the soundless runes on his calves made it easy. He closed the door behind him and turned on the light. It stung his eyes, forcing him to push the heels of his palms into his head.
After a quick look in the mirror found him to be looking awful — vomit clinging to his lips and dripping down his chin, skin pale except for a flush over his cheekbones, broken blood vessels under his eyes from straining so hard to vomit, lips chapped and cracked — he set off looking for cleaning supplies.
Being someone who could clean messes with a snap of his fingers, Magnus didn’t keep many around. There was a roll of paper towel and a glass cleaner under the bathroom sink, and that was about it. Sighing, he grabbed the roll of paper towel and turned off the light.
Even with enhanced vision, he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face. He didn’t want to turn on the light. He fumbled for his phone, or maybe it was Magnus’s, on the dresser. At this point, he didn’t care. Turning on the flashlight, he located his mess. It was awful.
Between strands of shag rug were noodles that hadn’t been digested yet. The whole rug was coated in stomach acid and whatever Alec had been drinking last night. He couldn’t remember. With Magnus, it was probably wine.
Gingerly, he knelt town in front of the puddle. He wasn’t quite sure how to start. He didn’t even get the chance.
“Alexander,” Magnus groaned. “What are you doing?” He flopped over to Alec’s side of the bed, and Alec pushed the light against his leg, trying to stifle the harsh light. It didn’t fool Magnus for a second.
“Oh,” he sighed gently. “You’re sick.”
Alec wanted to protest that no, he was fine, but he hardly ever threw up, and the pounding behind his eyes was beginning to be impossible to ignore. His skin prickled more under Magnus’ gaze, and he had to fight the sudden urge to sob.
Magnus twitched, and the lights turned on. They were dim, not bright enough to hurt Alec’s head, but enough to see what was going on. He pushed himself up on his arms and examined Alec and then the mess in front of him. He sighed softly again, more a noise of empathy than of exasperation.
“You don’t have to clean it up yourself, darling,” Magnus soothed. Alec tried to steel his features. He felt himself blushing. He couldn’t look at Magnus, and looking at the floor was making him want to be sick again. “Come on, get back in bed.” Magnus patted his side of the bed. Alec didn’t move.
“Please don’t be mad,” he whispered.
“Mad?” Magnus questioned. “Alexander, how could I be mad at you for this? You didn’t do it on purpose. Besides, who hasn’t thrown up on shag carpeting?”
Alec didn’t smile. Magnus reached a hand out and touched Alec’s cheek. He rested it there a moment, letting his cool fingers soother his boyfriend’s hot skin.
“You have a fever,” Magnus observed. “Come on, back in bed.”
“But the mess—”
Magnus snapped his fingers. “What mess?”
It had disappeared from the carpet as if it had never been there. Magnus dropped his hand to Alec’s arm, trying to lift him onto the bed. With a sigh, Alec stood and crawled over Magnus, settling into his side of the bed. Magnus pulled him in for a hug, but stopped short. He summoned a washcloth.
“Here.” Magnus’ voice was soft as he wiped Alec’s chin. The towel was warm and damp, and felt good against Alec’s skin. He sighed.
“Can you fall back asleep?” Alec was already out.
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niennavalier · 7 years
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Is it possible you can do an Injustice 2 Coldflash prompt based on Len's Arcade Ending? I'd love more Coldflash based in the comicverse DCU. :)
Again, apologies for the wait. And for the somber tone here; I’m awful and didn’t feel like writing something fluffy apparently. Also, quick disclaimer: I’m not super familiar with Len and Barry’s dynamic in the comics, so this is based solely on what I gleaned from the game, but also probably falls a bit on them in the show as well, because that’s the easiest way for me to write it.
“Out of the Ashes”
    “He’s the best partner I ever had. ‘Sides you, Sis.”
    A chill winter breeze whistled through the air of Central City, kicking up dried leaves and sending them clicking across the concrete. The day found Len Snart kneeling down at the headstone bearing his sister’s name as he fiddled with the golden mask between his fingers. A tell he’d thought he’d trained himself out of years ago, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about that. Not today. He huffed out a breath and continued, “Not like anyone ever could replace you, Lise,” before reaching out, touching the smooth stone, tracing the letters of her name. “Been five years and…and I still miss you. Much as I enjoy Flash’s company, it’s not the same. And not that I don’t like ‘im - I do - but just wish you were here to see it all, too.” He began to stand with a heavy sigh, one hand still trailing up the cool stone, the other replacing the mask inside his coat pocket, fingers brushing the chain of a golden trinket he’d nicked on his way there. Part-time hero or not, he’d stolen it for her, meant to drape it around the framed photo of her in his room. An homage to the people they’d been together, even if in the long term he’d chosen to honor her memory by trying a new path. In the end, he could only hope she would approve. “Love you, Sis.”
   He’d barely pulled his hand back when he heard the gust of air behind him, smelled the faint scent of ozone. “Len?”
   “Barry,” he acknowledged flatly, not bothering to move a muscle.
   “I was looking for you. After our mission. I wanted to talk but you were gone.” Len could sense Barry’s footsteps, feel the electric buzz in the air between them as he approached. Consequence of working closely with someone; Len knew that first hand.
   “Looks like you knew where to find me anyway.”
   “I…I wasn’t sure. Not at first. But then the jewelry shop owner on Fourth reported something missing and…” Barry looked down, biting his lip.
   “You’re here to take me in,” Len picked up where Barry had left off. Should’ve known.
   “No!” Barry’s head jerked up, eyes widened almost comically. “No, of course not. As far as the public knows, the Flash can’t find whoever did this, and everyone else is too busy to lend a hand.”
   Len breathed a small sigh of relief. His freedom was one thing, but he wasn’t about to let Lisa down. Not again. “Thanks.”
   “You’re welcome. I want her to have it.” Len actually looked up then; of all things, he hadn’t been expecting that. “I know today’s the day that they…that Lisa…” the speedster shook his head as if to clear it. Both of them still carried around residual guilt over their respective mistakes even though they’d each agreed to move on. One of the things they had in common, Len figured. “I know what it’s like to lose people you love and how badly it hurts to be reminded of that, no matter how long ago it was. I just…I’m sorry.”
   Honestly, Len did appreciate the empathy, but, “A bunch of pretty words ain’t gonna change a thing, though.”
   “I know that. It’s why I just wanna remind you that, this year, you’re not alone. That’s what I wanted to tell you.” Suddenly, there was a pair of hands around Len’s own, Barry leaning in closer. “Whatever you need, I’m here. Just someone to go get a drink with, or if you want a place to stay if you don’t wanna be alone later -” Len’s eyes widened as he tensed on instinct. Barry reacted similarly in response, ready to backtrack at a mile a minute. “I…sorry, just…I didn’t mean to be weird, I shouldn’t have -”
   “No, Barry…I-I mean -” Len stuttered back before taking a breath, steadying himself. “…Thanks. Might take you up on that.” He smirked just a little. “‘Less you’ve got some sorta ulterior motive?”
   Barry laughed at that, the momentary ice between them shattering, filling Len with warmth. He hadn’t been lying earlier: no one ever couldreplace Lisa, but there was an ease that still made Barry one of the best partners he’d ever had. “Hey, I just planned to keep you company. That’s it.”
   “Then in that case,” Len turned them around, a grin on his lips, their hands still linked as they walked, because he couldn’t feel a reason to need to let go, “why don’t we start with those drinks? Could definitely use one.”
   In that moment, if anyone else had been watching, they would have borne witness to something incredible in that very cemetery. Unbeknownst to the two men, a shimmer of gold had begun to appear over the headstone they’d left behind, engrossed in jokes about Central City Daisies and the freezing point of various types of alcohol. It was a soft glow, a warm light, one that bent the air around it like a mirage. Except that the shimmer was real - no delusion - no matter how anyone might try to explain it away as a trick of the sunlight.
   Lisa Snart - the Golden Glider - ever watching over her big brother, proud of the choices he’d made and glad for what he’d found in the Scarlet Speedster.
   As the two of them rounded the corner, out of sight, the glow began to intensify, ever brighter, warmer, more beautiful, before gently dimming, never quite fading entirely. A message of undying familial love, and wholehearted approval of the new beginning rising from the ashes of the past.
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Hey! My birthday is March 25 (the big 3-0). I love smutty!everlark (preferably rated E) and Peeta in a uniform. That would be an awesome present, but I'd be happy with anything=) I think you're doing such a great job with this blog. It's a wonderful idea!
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Grattis på födelsedagen!! Wishing you a wonderful birthday @maxwellandlovelace. To help you celebrate in style, the always incredible @katnissdoesnotfollowback has written this wonderful slice of Everlark, just for you!
All’s Fair
WARNINGS: RATED M for mild language, immature pranks, and smut. Everlark college/military cadets AU. ;-)
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“You sure you know how to pick one of these things?”
“Yep,” I whisper as I continue to work quietly. Not as fast as I’d like since my hands are shaking.
“Damn, Everdeen, where’d you learn to pick a lock?”
“Senior prank in high school,” Gale explains to them quietly. “I hotwired the principal’s car and she picked the lock on the hockey rink so we could park it on the ice.”
“Nice,” Mitchell says.
“You scare me, Everdeen,” someone else mutters. A third snorts in response and Gale reminds them to keep their eyes open.
We’ve only got an hour to complete our mission. I just can’t believe the senior cadets picked THIS for our squad. Technically, our assignments are selected by lottery a week in advance, but I’m still not convinced that they don’t KNOW and rigged the drawing. Gale’s reminders that targeting the Air Force cadets on campus is a pretty standard assignment did little to dispel my worries when I’ve basically had to lie to someone I care about for a week. And I’ve never been a great liar.
With a satisfying, click, the lock springs free, and I hold the door open, motioning for my squad mates to get inside quickly with their bags of JB Weld and cans of silly string. We’ve already blinded the cameras on the outside, and they move quickly through the darkened hall to blind the interior ones while I lock the door behind us. Just in case.
Gale finds the right room and motions for us to follow.
“You gotta be fucking kidding me. I thought they were shitting us,” Mitchell mutters and Gale nods as we all stare at the gleaming wood table.
“Nothing says Chair Force like a fucking pool table in your ROTC detachment,” Holmes says.
As one, we tilt our heads back and look up at the plaster ceiling.
“Think it’ll hold?” I ask.
“Only one way to find out,” Gale says and drops his bag on the floor. We’ve just got one side of the pool table lifted to flip it over when the jingle and then the scrape of a key in a lock renders all of us wide-eyed and immobile.
“Shit!” Thresh says and douses the flashlight as we all scramble to hide our gear and ourselves in dark corners of the room.
“It’s three in the morning. What the fuck is one of them doing in here?”
“I thought Zoomies needed their beauty rest.”
I hush them all as the door we came through earlier opens and the lights in the hallway flicker on. Heavy footsteps tread down the hallway, and we all remain motionless. Breathlessly hoping to avoid detection.
A cadet in creased, dark blue pants and a crisp, light blue shirt walks by the open doorway, his head bent and eyes focused on the phone in his hand. Black bookbag slung over his left shoulder and a blue flight cap hung neatly in his belt. His black shoes shining and flaring in the hall lights. I have to hold back a groan. The odds are clearly against me tonight.
Why did it have to be him?
We remain silent and still as he unlocks a door further down the hall. His keys jingle as he drops them on a desk and then his bag thuds onto the floor. A zipper and then books on a desk. It’s otherwise so quiet that we can even hear his chair squeak as he sits down. When the air conditioner kicks on, Gale motions for us to move on him, and we gather around him.
“What the fuck do we do now?” Mitchell hisses.
“Wait him out,” Jackson suggests.
“We gotta report back to Boggs by o-four-hundred. There’s no telling how long he’ll be here,” Thresh argues.
Holmes produces a handful of zip cuffs from his pocket and grins. “We could use these.”
“We can’t tie him up,” I whisper indignantly. “Why did you even bring those?”
“Why not?” Gale asks.
“Yeah. Prank plus prisoner. We’d get a shit ton of bonus points for that.”
“Give me those,” I mutter and snatch them out of Holmes’ hand, stuffing them in one of the cargo pockets of my pants. The cadet down the hall coughs and we all freeze for a moment, not talking again until we hear the steady drumming of fingers on a keyboard. I release a slow breath and glare at my squad mates before explaining my thrown together just this second plan.
“If we jump him and tie him up, it could get out of hand. I know him from one of my classes last year. I’ll go distract him and cuff him if I need to while you guys finish the mission and get out of here. I think he’s in a room with a window, if I’ve got the layout of this place right. So toss a pebble or something at the window when you’re done – DON’T break it,” I say to Holmes when he opens his mouth. “And I’ll meet back up with you outside, okay?”
“How’re ya gonna distract him, Everdeen?” Mitchell says and wiggles his eyebrows at me. Gale punches him in the arm. “Ow. Dude.”
“Leave that to me,” I whisper. “Just let me get the door shut before you all get back to work. And try to be quiet.”
With a deep breath, I make my way out to the hallway and slink down it’s length towards the open door. I can’t believe that I have to do this. Fuck it all. Pausing outside the lit room where the intruder continues pounding on the keyboard, I glance at the cardstock label in a slip cover announcing that this is the Cadet Wing Vice Commander office. Yep. It’s definitely him and not a figment of my overwrought imagination.
I glance back at my team. Mitchell is grinning and Holmes gives me a thumbs up. Thresh and Jackson look unimpressed. Gale is scowling. Well, so much for secrets, I think and step inside the small room that’s set up as a kind of office, shutting and locking the door behind me.
Peeta glances up at the noise and I stare back at him for a moment, my tongue tied and my pulse pounding. Confusion clears the way for happiness on his face and that only makes me feel worse.
“Hey,” he says softly. “I thought you had some sort of drill.”
“Finished early and saw you come in here.” I’m only lying slightly, but he nods, eyes skimming over my form, clad in camo pants and a black shirt, while I steal a glance at the window and hide my relief that it’s got blinds – which are closed – but no curtains. My squad will easily be able to find the right one but not be able to actually see us.
“Covert op?” he asks and I nod, focusing back on him. “Well, I’m glad you stopped by.”
He stands and my insides turn to melted butter. I remind myself that I am training to be a soldier. An officer in the Army, and I can’t keep letting a pair of sweet pink lips and deep blue eyes distract me. Especially not since I’m supposed to be distracting him right now.
“What’re you doing up so early?” I ask dumbly, gripping the door handle as he crosses the small space towards me. My nerves tightening with every passing second.
“Couldn’t sleep after you left,” he murmurs. “Thought I might as well get up and get a head start on that psyc paper I have due next week. If I finish it early, I can spend the weekend with you.”
“And the uniform…?” I trail off and finger the buttons on his shirt. He moves my hand aside so I don’t ruin his perfect alignment.
“Have to wear it today anyways and didn’t feel like dragging it around campus.”
“Makes sense,” I say as warmth curls low in my belly. He’s handsome in anything, but for some reason, I love the way he looks in his blues. Still, I need to keep Peeta busy. Our mission could potentially cause a lot of noise. I’ve no sooner thought it, than it happens. Quiet enough that I could pass it off as something else, but Peeta’s eyes lift off my face, confusion wrinkling his brow.
I do the only thing I can think of in the moment. I throw my arms around him and kiss him, his sound of surprise muffled beneath my lips.
Willing him to forget the noise and respond to me, I caress the back of his neck, moaning slightly when his hands finally press into my spine, holding me close to him. I watch his lashes, distractingly long and blonde, as his eyes slide shut and he breathes deeply through his nose. I hold his head to mine and try to fight back the hunger growing deep inside me.
Focused. I need to stay focused.
But kissing Peeta isn’t exactly helping my concentration. Not when he slides one hand up my back to tangle in my braided hair and keep me in place. Not when his tongue traces over my lips and I know I have to let him in or risk his suspicion. Guilt fills me right along with the need as he deepens the kiss. I can’t help feeling that I’m using him, but it’s his fault for walking in here in the middle of our task.
“Katniss,” he murmurs as I try to maneuver us away from the door. I’m wondering if I can just kiss him for an hour, but then he ruins the chances of that. He shifts his mouth to kiss my neck and my knees shake as I shiver and fall into him for support. “Since you’re done, do you think we could go back to bed for a few hours?”
I can feel the upwards tilt of his lips as he smiles against my skin. Heat, already blooming in my chest, suffuses to the tips of my body, curls low in my center. I whine a little as his teeth scrape over my collar bone. I need to keep it together and keep him in this room until they’re done. And the last thing I need is for the others to figure me out. I’ll never live it down if my squad finds out I’ve secretly been dating a Zoomie for the past year. And I’m sure Peeta would face similar ridicule for dating a Ground Pounder. Stupid fucking rivalries. They make no sense and I’ve never hated them more than in this moment.
“Maybe in a minute,” I say, my voice all breathy. “There’s something I’ve wanted to do for awhile.”
When I reach for the gleaming silver buckle on his belt, though, he stops me. “Wait. I’m not sure I’ll be able to put this thing back on right without a mirror. But I think I know what you’ve got in mind. Let me.”
I’ve never been very good at saying ‘no’ to that smile, so I flop into the desk chair when he pushes me down and grip the armrests while he kisses me. I bite my lip and try not to gasp when he tugs my shirt free, sliding his warm palm over my belly to cup my breast over my sports bra, his thumb catching on my nipple and only making me writhe more beneath his touch.
He pulls at my pants and I lift my hips, caressing his cheeks as he slides them down around my thighs. Then he kneels and drapes my legs over his shoulders, trapping himself between my legs and I try not to whine loudly because my squad is still out there, but holy mother of pearl do I love having Peeta’s mouth on me like this. And he knows it.
“There’s no one here, Katniss,” he murmurs, nuzzling my thigh before kissing it and gazing up at me. “You don’t have to be quiet.”
“Audio on the security cameras?” I ask weakly and he shrugs.
“No idea. They’re all out in the halls anyways. Scream my name all you want. I’ll take the punishment for it,” he says with a grin before lowering his mouth to me.
“Oh,” I moan and then cut it off, biting my fist as Peeta licks me from one end to the next. It feels so good, so impossibly good. I clamp my legs around his ears and he mumbles something that’s lost in my folds. His hands grip my thighs and tug in an attempt to loosen them. But there’s another loud noise down the hall, so I keep them in place and buck my hips against his mouth. I am torn in two between losing myself in the feelings Peeta creates and paying attention to what’s happening down the hall, remaining alert like I should.
“You’re making me work for it tonight,” he says when my legs loosen slightly and he lifts his head just enough to grin at me before he dives back in. His tongue caresses deeper this time before he slides it back out and closes his lips around my clit to suck on it, and oh god, he knows I can’t take it when he flicks his tongue on me like that.
“Peeta,” I gasp, my legs trembling and heat skipping up and down my spine as my fingers claw through his short hair, scraping scalp and unable to get a good grip on him.
I give up on playing lookout for my team and arch painfully in the chair, my back cramping as my legs and hands keep him prisoner against me and sweet relief flows through me. I choke back the moan desperate to fly free of my throat and somehow remain silent as Peeta keeps going, coaxing me through a drawn out release and then back down through shuddering aftershocks.
He turns his head just enough to kiss my thigh again as I slump in the chair and absently pet his hair. With a chuckle, he frees himself of my legs and helps me stand, tugging my pants back up my waist before he gathers me in his arms and kisses me again. Slow and deep, full of promise.
When he lifts his head to smile down at me, though, something pings against the window. My signal that they’re done.
“What the–”
As Peeta turns away from me towards the sound, I grab the chair and shove it into the backs of his knees, knocking him off his feet. He falls heavily back into it and I yank the zip cuffs from my pocket. Peeta stares up at me in astonishment as I bind his wrists together.
“Really?” he asks incredulously. I tug his ankles together and he doesn’t fight me as I bind those too. When I look guiltily back up at him, he’s not angry. He’s laughing.
“I’m sorry, Peeta. You didn’t leave me a choice. You should’ve just stayed in bed,” I snap. He shrugs and wriggles his fingers at me.
“Worth it,” he murmurs and warmth flows through me that he’s being so understanding. “So now what? You finish me off? Plaster a picture of me trussed up like a hog all over both our detachments?”
“No, nothing like that,” I say and lean over to kiss him one last time. Small consolation for the fact that even without photographic evidence, his entire cadet corps will probably figure out that he got nabbed and tied up by the Army cadets. But I need him to know that his humiliation was never my objective.
I tuck my shirt back in my pants and run my hands over my hair. “I’ll see you later?”
“See you later,” he says way too cheerfully for someone who just got beat. I stare at him a moment but his calm face reveals nothing. So I slip warily back down the hallway, pausing to check my squad’s handiwork and chuckling at the pool table attached to the ceiling. They’ve propped it up with a couple two-by-fours, I’m guessing to make sure the epoxy has time to cure. It oughta be interesting seeing them get THAT down. I just hope Gale remembered to take the pictures for proof.
I slink back out the door and around the corner, pausing near the bushes to chirp like a cricket, our signal in case of separation. A soft FWUMP greets me and then I cry out as something smacks into my chest, causing a burst of pain. When I glance down, I stare at the fluorescent orange paint splattered on my shirt.
My ears ring with resounding cheers from the bushes. A flashlight glows on five figures, kneeling in a circle beneath the trees, their hands on their heads, all of them with paint splatters on their shirts, nearly identical to mine. I find Gale, looking pissed as hell, duct tape over his mouth. A ring of cadets in dark pants and black shirts, Air Force wings screen printed in blue on their backs, guards them, lifting paint ball guns in the air as they whoop in glee.
Crossing my arms, I glare at the nearest one as he emerges from the shadows. A tall, athletic, copper haired pretty boy who I’d really love to smack the saunter out of right now.
“Odair,” I drawl his name and he bows to me.
“Everdeen. Surrender?”
“I don’t think so,” I say with a shake of my head. “Your pool table’s hanging from your ceiling. Oh and you might wanna go check on your vice. He got a little tied up in there.”
“Shall we call it a draw then?” Finnick offers and I nod. It’s probably the best I can hope for, to at least save some face with my corps. We shake on it and Finnick motions towards my squad. A few cadets start to remove the tape. “Mason, go untie Mellark, would you?”
Then he turns back to me with a gleam in his eye. “I hope you weren’t too rough on our live bait. Although it was mostly his idea.”
He grins at me as I bristle at his words, which suggest that Peeta knew the whole time what was going on and even had a hand in planning this little ambush. Which means I wasn’t the only one lying and playing the game. Guilt flees and anger takes it place. And I am so glad that I still have several of Holmes’ zip cuffs in my pockets, because I plan on using them to teach the live bait a lesson later on today.
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