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#way but rather in a way that feels draining and exhausting
best-iwtv-scene · 3 days
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ROUND 1B, MATCH 4
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Descriptions/Propaganda under the cut:
Armand betrayal reveal (2x08)
After Louis declares the end of his story halfway through the final episode, Daniel reveals an original copy of the trial's script, littered with notes from Armand in the margins. Barely containing his emotions, Louis flicks through the script, realising that the trial- and Claudia's subsequent murder- was led by his companion of seventy-seven years. Additionally, Daniel reveals that Lestat was the vampire who saved Louis from execution in the trial, rather than Armand, adding yet another lie to their relationship. Daniel is almost feverish from being able to unpick the mystery of the Dubai interview that has been haunting him since 1x01, Louis is enraged from realising the last seven decades of his life have been based on a lie, and Armand is desperately trying to hold onto the broken parts of their relationship, despite the fact that it has been in pieces from the very beginning. Louis throws Armand against a wall and thanks Daniel, a bond forged between the two, and burns his laptop, destroying it, but not erasing the interviews entirely. The scene is scored by 'Which Ever Way Your Nose Bends', composed by Simon David Rackham and performed by Piano Circus. This piece also features heavily in 2x05, the unique six-piano arrangement used to represent fragmented memories coming together and plays throughout the reveal in 2x08, building in intensity as it progresses. "Where does the bullshit start, Armand, Amadeo, Arun? You were supposed to die with Claudia. He didn't save you, Lestat did!"
Propaganda:
No propaganda was submitted for this scene.
"Rest" (2x05)
After five days trapped in the San Francisco apartment, Armand finally goes to drain Daniel completely. Armand tempts Daniel into an "easeful death" in a similar way to how Santiago is seen to seduce his victims into death during the theatre's performances. An exhausted Daniel tries to resist, quietly saying that he is "a bright young reporter with a point of view", in an attempt to refute Armand's claims of a mediocre and disappointing future ahead of him. Eventually, Daniel gives in, holding onto Armand as he leans in to bite his exposed neck. For a few moments, the pair embrace while Armand drinks from Daniel, until he is interrupted by Louis stumbling into the room, saving Daniel's life. The scene is oddly loving despite its dark nature, particularly due to the high tension of the episode so far, and it shows the strength of Daniel, able to resist Armand's seduction even for just a moment. This scene is scored by an unreleased track, incorporating the piano motifs of Armand's theme, with a string melody over the top, drowning out the piano as Armand zeroes in on Daniel's neck. "An easeful death [...] It'll feel like a bath. Rest. Like honey on your tongue. It is the comfort we all long for... the end." "... Rest." "Rest. Come, come. I'll hold you. You rest now."
Propaganda:
No propaganda was submitted for this scene.
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mainfaggot · 9 months
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I have been having a hard time falling asleep lately like not as bad as pre-taking sleeping meds ... it only takes an hour to be snorking and mimiming but my body hurts all over and I toss and turn and I can't get my brain to Shut UP no matter how exhausted I am it's the worst like I just have to wait for the sleeping pills to take over bc otherwise I could probably stay up for 3 hours trying to sleep without them
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atomra · 8 months
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Ughh...
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yuribalisms · 2 years
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If someone could just like…. Stab me through the eye that would be great idk
#idk what it is about today but I feel… terrible#not physically just mentally#and not even in a way that’s easy to place I just want to lay in the floor and melt into it#tbh I think it is premature exhaustion and anxiety ABOUT the exhaustion#because tomorrow we have two new apartment tours#and then Thursday (which is my other day off this week) I have that first therapy appointment#so my brain is not classifying either of those days as actual ‘days off’#(and I mean they’re not they will both be extremely draining)#AND THEN one of the store’s big managers insisted on doing the schedule instead of letting our department manager do it#so it’s sooooo fucked up and I won’t have a day off until NEXT Thursday and he scheduled me a bunch of inconsistent morning/evening shifts#so…. I am…. going to have literally no free time for like two weeks straight#no time to decompress no time to do things I think are fun no time to catch up on sleep#and my mom keeps messaging me about getting a new car which yes I need a new car and I WANT a new car and I’m finally in a position to GET#a new car#but she’s like ‘you have to go test drive a bunch of cars to find the one you REALLY want and then we’ll negotiate for it with you’#but I cannot stress enough that I would genuinely rather kill myself than go to a dealer ship and test drive cars by myself#I also just do not give a shit about cars there is never going to be one I ‘love’ because cars are cars I just want one that functions#I don’t CARE which one it is or how it drives or what the fuck ever I will NEVER care#but she keeps insisting I do it and I know they won’t help me go negotiate if I don’t do this first 😭#and I have a dentist appointment for the first time in like three years in a couple weeks and I know I probably have so many cavities#from when I got super depressed for like four months and didn’t brush my teeth at all#and I am just so overwhelmed#new apartment hunting new car shopping new therapist dentist appointment AAAGGGHHHH#I thought it might be a good idea to do it all at once so it’s all over with and I don’t have to have like four month period where it’s just#hopping from one thing to the other#except now I am just exhausted and overwhelmed and grumpy and feel like I can’t handle ANY of it let alone all of it#maybe one of the new apartments will go well tomorrow so at least I can cross that off and budget new rent prices….#ugh#kaz rambles
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reidmotif · 21 days
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Relax, I've Got You
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Summary: Reader isn't the best at handling stress, and her roommate Spencer, notices. Luckily, he has quite a few salacious ideas on how he could make her feel better.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Smut
Content Warning: friends-with-benefits situation, oral (f!recieving), fingering (f!recieving), mentions of anxiety/symptoms of anxiety.
Word Count: 2.7 k
Masterlist
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You were never good at handling stress. 
You were well aware of this facet of your psyche– the way tensity would often wind around your limbs, snaking into the very depths of your bones until you were entirely drained and devoid of peace, a shell of the person you were accustomed to being. 
You had dealt with this complication on your own for the most part. You’d come home after a long day, and attempt to find yourself again through chamomile tea, lavender mists, and a warm blanket. 
Of course, there were days where even these measures could not suffice in curing your weariness. 
That’s where Spencer Reid came in. 
He’d only been your roommate at first. With the economy going as it was, it was simply more practical to find one, rather than renting alone. He’d responded to an ad you’d put up, and you accepted. The process was easy, honestly. You had no qualms about sharing your living space with another person, and even found the arrangement enjoyable at times. Spencer was well-mannered, never missed rent, and wasn’t even at home most of the time. When he was, he was quiet. Sweet. 
Through time, you found yourself becoming friends with the man. The conversation was light and easy, and in a rare turn of events, you started to open up to him. Even more surprisingly, he returned the favor, adding to the understanding that was fast growing between the two of you. It seemed only natural, since both of you were made naturally vulnerable by the circumstances of your situation. You’d come to your apartment, drop the mask of the day, and see that Spencer was already there, becoming an extension of the solace you found at home. Soon enough, the comfort of your couch was simply synonymous to him as well. 
It didn’t take long for Spencer to notice the anxieties that would plague you when a deadline came about, or when you simply fixated on an issue for too long. The way your bedroom light wouldn’t shut until 4 AM, or how you’d pace in the kitchen, so wired that your body denied you the rest you so desperately needed. He noticed the dark circles, the occasional irritability (followed by an apology, of course), the headaches, everything. Which is why he thought nothing of it to suggest some remedies for your troubles over breakfast one day. 
“Caffeine can actually increase stress, if you weren’t aware.” He says, eyeing your second cup of coffee that morning. “There’s actually a large amount of data that indicates you should limit caffeine intake, especially if you’re already anxious.” 
You narrow your eyes, furrowing your brows slightly. “Says who?” You retort, not quite ready to give up your chosen beverage. 
“The NIH, Penn State, the AMA-” 
“Okay, okay. Sorry. I got it.” You interrupt, knowing you’d started a losing battle the moment you’d questioned him.  “I’ll try to cut down on it.” 
He grins, satisfied with how the interaction had played out. You, on the other hand, started to drift farther away from your current setting. You swallow, putting down your coffee cup before rubbing your eyes, a soft sigh escaping you. 
“Something wrong?” Spencer asks, cautiously, his voice soft. 
You tsk, shaking your head and shrugging a bit at your own dilemma. “It's just.. I’m already so tired. I’m exhausted and the day’s barely begun.” You pause, unable to articulate just how fatigued you were.  “It’s like I can already feel the mid-afternoon headache I’m going to get later, and it hasn’t even started yet.” You hate the way you sound, longing for the day you could fully relax for even a fraction of a second. 
“You’d probably be a lot less tired if you slept a little more.” Spencer suggests, and you shoot him a death glare. 
“Don’t you think I know that?” You snap. “I’m trying. It’s not that easy. It’s just-” You groan, stopping yourself as the quick realization dawns on you that you’ve misdirected your frustrations. There’s a wave of shame rising up almost immediately, heating your cheeks up in regret. 
“I’m sorry, Spencer. Sorry. That’s unfair of me. I know you’re just looking out for me.” You murmur, taking a deep breath to calm your senses. 
“Hey, don’t worry.” He says, his voice low and compassionate. “I get it. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate right now.” 
You nod, closing your eyes as you continue to breathe. He continues to speak, his voice remaining warmhearted. 
“There are actually quite a few ways to alleviate stress. Some experts recommend meditation, exercise and yoga. I wouldn’t mind doing those with you, if you were interested.” He offers, as he continues to ramble, lost in his own explanation in the hopes of being of service to you. “Some experts even name sex as a useful stress reliever, due to the endorphins and oxytocin released after completion.” 
You give a fruitless laugh. “Jesus, I wish. I don’t have the time to try and find someone willing to do that for me.” 
Spencer goes quiet, and you finally open your eyes. You’re met with his stare, trained on your form, a thoughtful expression on his face. 
“What?” You ask, upon returning his gaze. 
He clears his throat, shaking his head, as if he was ridding himself of a passing thought. “Nothing. Sorry. I’m sorry. I hope you do find something that works for you though. I hate seeing you like this.” 
You soften at his concern. “Thanks, Spencer.” You say, the affection in your voice unmistakable. “Maybe I’ll end up taking on.. Yoga? That seems doable, right?” 
He smiles. “Yoga. Right.” 
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The days pass on, until you find yourself in a similar scenario you’ve been in one too many times. You’re pacing the kitchen, a small clock reading that it was currently 2 AM. You couldn’t even really decipher the source of tonight’s anxiety– all you know is you feel it, and you feel it deeply. 
That’s when a voice breaks through the darkness, halting your movements altogether. 
“Hey, are you alright?” Spencer’s soft, slightly deeper voice. 
“Oh, yeah.” You call out, despite the growing tightness in your chest. “I’m fine. You can go back to sleep. Sorry for waking you.” 
He shakes his head, scratching his head as he makes his way towards you. “It’s nothing.” He reassures. “I needed to pee anyway. What’s going on with you?” He inquires, gently. 
You rub at your chest, biting your lip. “The usual.” 
“Work?” He asks, softly. 
You purse your lips. “I’m not even sure at this point. Just really anxious.” 
His expression softens. A beat of silence passes between the two of you. 
“I’m- um. I’m willing to help.” He stammers out, suddenly seeming much more nervous than he was a moment ago. 
You give a dejected smile. “That’s sweet, Spencer, but I dunno. I think I have to deal with this on my own.” 
“No, I mean. I can help. I’m willing to help. To do that for you. I’m your friend. I want to help.” He restates, his voice a little urgent. 
“Willing to do what?” You ask, wholly confused with where he was going with this. 
He takes a breath. “Sex. Or, an orgasm, at least. You said no one you knew would be willing to help you like that. I am. If you want.” He blurts out. 
You stand there, momentarily shocked into silence. You’re suddenly able to recall the conversation you’d had, just a few days prior, and realize what he was trying to say.  Here you were, in your kitchen, with your friend- your roommate, and he was selflessly offering himself to you. For sex. For de-stressing sex.  He sounded so earnest, despite the obvious lewdness of his offer, and the juxtaposition made your head spin. 
“I..” You start, your voice caught in your throat. 
“You don’t have to feel compelled to say yes. I’m just offering. I want to help you.” He interjects, his voice still carrying that unselfishness you’d known from the very beginning. 
“I.. no. I mean, yes. I want to say yes.” You find yourself admitting after a moment. “But.. are you sure? It’s.. I mean, it’s sex, Spencer.” You whisper. 
“I’m aware.” He says, matching your softer tone. “I’m okay with that. Are you?” 
You take a breath. Looking up at him, you take in his slightly tousled hair illuminated by the soft moonlight that drifted in through your apartment windows. His white sleep shirt was crumpled, and even in the darkness that enveloped you, you could decipher the kindness in his eyes, his mere presence bringing a shade of ease into you as you spoke to him. 
“Yes.” You murmur out, the words flowing out with no hesitation. “I’m okay with that.” 
“Can I kiss you?” He says, gently, and your nod of affirmation is almost immediate. 
He steps closer and cups your cheek, before pressing his lips against yours gently. It’s a sweeter kiss, something that, despite never saying out loud, you would have expected from him. His mouth moves languidly against yours, before pulling away, slightly out of breath. 
“Kissing actually helps to reduce cortisol.” He murmurs. “It indirectly lowers stress as a result. Is it working?” 
And true to his words, you realized that the tightness in your chest had faded somewhat, no longer blaring with the intensity you had just felt a few minutes prior. An entirely new feeling settled within you- an ache, a need for this man and what he brought to you. 
“Yeah. It’s working.” You mumble out. 
As if he could read your mind, Spencer gently takes your hand. “Let’s move to the couch, yeah?” He murmurs, already leading you to his spot of preference. 
He gently guides you to sit on the couch, quickly finding your lips once again to exchange some soft kisses along the way. His hands drift up and down your back, fingertips light and tender. His every touch speaks to something more, to an unspoken dedication that you’d never felt before until this moment.
To something that maybe extended beyond the original purpose of your rendezvous. “Is this alright?” He asks, his tone hushed and reverent. 
You nod, almost in a trance. He was so gentle, so reassuring. He was exactly what you needed. 
His lips find yours again and you respond eagerly, letting your hands tangle into the mess of brown hair that sat atop his head. He let out a small groan as your fingers slightly tugged on the strands, sending a thrill through you. 
He starts to trail the kisses down your neck, seeking out more sensitive spots that could bring you into a further state of rest and repose.  Everything about you spurred him on, it seemed. He paid attention to every noise, every movement– his ultimate goal seeming to hinge on your pleasure throughout this. 
Of course, you respond accordingly to the dedication, a soft gasp or whimper escaping you when he would mouth at the perfect spot, which would only cause him to increase his actions tenfold, leading to even more response on your end. 
The perfect feedback loop driving you to pliancy and ecstasy all at once.
His lips begin to drift down, and you realize he’s settling in between your legs now, hands on the waistband of your sleep clothes, urging you to lie down completely, which you do. 
“Gonna take these off now.” He whispers, looking up at you between your legs. 
“Please.” You respond, waiting with bated breath. 
He manages to pull down the last barrier between you two, before being met with the mess he’d created. His lips parted as his fingers trailed lightly over your wet slit, your arousal evident on his finger as he marveled on the effect he could have on you. 
“Jesus, you’re beautiful.” He whispers, as if his eyes are set upon something precious, something worthy of worship. And in a way, isn’t that exactly what he’d set out to do the moment he’d placed his face between your thighs? 
He loops his arms around your thighs, before slowly allowing his tongue to dart out, delicately, tracing the wetness of your pussy. A moan slips out of you, low and needy, and that’s all the confirmation he needs before he’s diving in, devouring your cunt like a man starved. 
“Spencer.” You gasp out. You say his name like prayer, like he is god-given, because in this moment, he is. 
His tongue traces your clit in circles, before directly placing his lips over the swollen bud, applying some light suction. The tenderness in the action, the way his eyes flit upto yours, watching your gaze for the utmost reassurance that he was doing right by you, only hurdle you closer and closer to your pleasurable end. 
It’s almost as if you’re floating, your back arching as his face stubbornly stays buried in your cunt, lapping at your wetness insistently. He wants your release just as bad as you do, and it’s clear he’ll do anything for the sweetness that comes with you falling apart in his arms. 
“Oh god.” You moan out- how is it possible to feel so airy, and yet so present all at once? To feel every movement of Spencer’s warm, wet tongue lavishing your clit, and still be somewhere else entirely- a new height of pleasure you had sorely needed all along. 
One of his hands leaves the iron-grip it had your thighs in, letting his fingers drift towards your entrance. He slips the digits in, slowly pumping into you, only adding to the overwhelming rapture you found yourself in. Your eyes shoot open, and you find yourself writhing against him. 
“Spencer- oh god. Please, please.” You babble out, legs starting to tense with the beginnings of your orgasm. 
He only pulls away enough to murmur softly. “That’s it.” His fingers continue their steady pace into you, his grip on your thigh keeping you planted to the mattress. “I got you, love. Come for me.”
With nothing else to say, he resumes eating you out, and the combination of his fingers and mouth finally barrels you towards your orgasm, shuddering as it rips through you, as your every sense is clouded- with this, with him. 
It’s only until you’ve ridden out the entirety of your orgasm that he pulls away. Sitting upright, he leans forward to caress your jaw, taking in the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the flushed appearance your face had taken on in the throes of gratification. 
“Feeling better?” He asks, softly. 
“Entirely.” You whisper back, almost in awe. Not only at how well it worked, but how adoringly he stared at you, it being enough to stop your heart in your chest. Did he always look like this? How did you never notice? 
“Can I return the favor?” You implore, already beginning to get up, but Spencer pushes you back down lightly, shaking his head. 
“You’re tired.” He says, as if his word was fact, despite these being your feelings that were being spoken about. “Right now, the oxytocin coursing through your body is priming you perfectly for sleep, and God knows you need it.” He chuckles out.
You realize that he’s right, and for the first time, you feel the fatigue that comes naturally with sleep, as opposed to the restless nights you’d been dealing with. You still feel disappointed though, feeling a sting of rejection as you’re unable to touch him back. Still, your tiredness is undeniable, and so you nod. 
He gets up, finding a blanket to lay on top of you, before kneeling beside your face. He looks at you with subtle veneration, before letting his lips brush against your forehead. 
“I’ll take you up on your offer tomorrow, though, if that’s alright.” He murmurs. “When you’re rested.” 
Your smile is immediate. “Deal.” You whisper out. 
He looks at you for another beat, before letting his knuckles brush against your cheek, slowly retreating to his bedroom, as to let you get the rest you so desperately needed. 
You close your eyes, amazed by the tranquility that came with Spencer. How simple intimacy came with him, as if that’s how it should’ve been all along. 
You know you’ll ponder on this fact in greater detail later on, but for now, you relished in serenity of the afterglow. 
“Spencer Reid.” You think. “What divine comfort you are.” 
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HOOOLY SHIT. how long has it been since i uploaded? a long time? i think. hahahaha. in between traveling, [redacted life updates], and even more, i just wasn't very inspired to write. i hope this speaks to some of you, and i hope it was enjoyable to read. as usual, any likes, comments, reblogs are so so so deeply appreciated. feedback as well! thank you so so so much for reading regardless, i am eternally grateful for any and all support <3 (oh also haha. this was written for @imagining-in-the-margins friends with benefits challenge! check it out.)
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eternalsunrise · 1 month
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home, sweet home.
wolverine (logan howlett) x f!reader
wc: 980 (drabble)
tags! established relationship, no actual smut but super suggestive and gets graphic toward the end
notes! horny . but also v sweet. i pictured origins logan while writing this 💋
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“if you keep moving i’m going to start slicing you up on purpose” your threat is empty, wrist away from his face completely, razor pointed the opposite direction. even with his regenerative abilities, you don’t want to hurt him, even if it’s just an accidental cut on his jaw.
logan was fully capable of doing this himself. after all, he’d been shaving his own face for decades upon decades. but there was no way he was going to pass up this opportunity.
he came through the front door after a two week long mission, scruffier than he was when he left. his mutton chops curling up at the tips of his jawline, mustache just long enough to tickle your face. he’d forgotten to pack his razor, and he’d rather use his own claws than use scott’s, or even worse, hank’s.
you were on him as soon as he walked in, leeched to his body, your hands everywhere. it had been too long since the wolverine breathed you in like this, his enhanced senses overstimulated in the best way. you ran your hand over his scratchy cheek, inquiring about his new look. he told you he was planning on cleaning it up but was exhausted. that’s when you offered.
now he’s sat on the toliet seat, and maybe he’s enjoying the view of you on his lap a little too much. he lifted his hips, bouncing you lightly on his legs.
“hm. relax princess, jus’ adjusting.” logan gives you a teasing smile, basking in the bliss he only feels in your presence. your eyes narrow in faux disdain, it’s hard to be frustrated at a guy with shaving cream covering his face. you grab one of his feline quips of hair, using it to tilt his head to finish the task at hand.
“i’m going with you next time, i can’t have you walking around like a caveman.” i missed you more than i can say.
ever the man, the image of you in an x-men suit pops into his brain, the leather hugging your body just right. the thought brings a smirk to his face, but it fades when he hears your sigh. right, no moving.
“yes ma’am. i’ll call the professor and let him know.” i missed you too. felt like i was never going to come back to you.
you lean your body over to rinse the razor off in the sink, logan’s large hands on your thighs keeping you steady. the metal clinks against the porcelain of the sink, shaving cream and dark hair going down the drain.
when you look back, you see your boyfriend in place of the lumberjack that walked in earlier. still scruffy and masculine, after all he is still the wolverine.
logan lifts his hips again, shifting backwards and forcing you to fall against him, razor clattering out of your hand. “whoops” his deep voice carries no sympathy, chocolate eyes locking with yours, giving you that love struck look that makes your stomach turn. the kind of look he saves just for you.
your chests are touching, the closeness sets your whole body ablaze. it’s been too long since you’ve got to soak him up like this. the smell of him makes your head swim; leather, cheap cigar smoke, and that cologne you bought him a few months back.
logan sneaks his hands under his brown flannel button up you’re wearing, delighted to be met by the bare skin of your hips. the metal of his belt buckle is cold against the bottom of your stomach, causing a gasp to leave you.
as he admires you now; sitting pretty in his lap in only his shirt, logan wonders how he had the strength to leave you in the first place.
hands wander over his freshly shaved face, stubble like soft needles against your fingertips. your head has a mind of its own, and suddenly your lips are brushing his. once. twice. a third time. soft and slow.
there’s something new in the air now. your heart is pounding, and you wonder if he can feel it beating through your chest and into his own. there’s a split second of silent eye contact before logan lurches forward.
there’s hunger behind his kiss. a certain lust behind his tongue making its way to yours. your hips swivel in search of friction. hands tangled in his hair, pulling in a way that’s so familiar it makes logan groan into your mouth; already aware of what tonight will bring.
his hands are traveling up your his shirt, rough fingers just barely making contact with your breasts. his touch lights you on fire, forcing you to break apart, head tilting back in a whimper.
logan takes that as his cue, and suddenly you’re in the air. one of his hands on your lower back securing you to him, the other cradling the underside of your knee.
you latch your other leg behind his waist as he walks out of the bathroom. your lips reconnected, eager to make up for the lost time.
you recognize the softness of your mattress against your back as logan lies you down gently. his mouth continues its assault, a trail of wet kisses down your jaw and side of your throat. he can feel your pulse drumming frantically under his lips, and he has to bite back a smirk at the effect he seemed to have on you.
your reaching your hands down to unclasp his belt when….ring. ring. ring. you feel the vibration against his pants and you think you might die if you have to stop right now.
you both pause in your actions. logan let out a gruff “you gotta be jokin’” as he stands up straight, leaving you lying on the bed.
he pulls his phone from his pocket, eyeing the caller id, scott summers. he’d been the third member of the x-men to try and get ahold of him. fuck can’t a guy have a day off?
he looks away from the phone, shifting his eyes to you. you’re sprawled beautifully on the bed. hair fanned around your head, cheeks flushed red with a devious smile to match. his eyes follow your body down to your legs. they’re spread wide for him, and he watches in shock as you let a hand slide between your thighs, swirling a couple slow circles on your clit through soaked panties.
you throw your head back and call his name, and that’s enough for him. logan tosses his phone over his shoulder, leaning down and crawling in between your legs.
“they’re gonna have to come pry me from this fucking bed, doll. i’m not goin’ nowhere.”
god it was good to be home.
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taraxacum-vulpes · 2 years
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giggles.
#come here boy your normalness intruiges me#...it's the not being on socmeds isn't it.#he's so normal about things#ik i'm blowing it way out of proportion but. idk dude. i've been around so many eccentric people he's. shockingly normal#board certified Would Not Have A Discourse Blog#...idk#we were cuddling. kinda. definitely.#next to each other bc. yeah. its more comfortable to be next to someone than across imo#...#dude i was sitting there on and off thinking about kissing him for FOURTY FIVE MINUTES.#green flag his lips are not chapped :)#... i have such low standards#idk#i have higher standards NOW#but like#... i feel like i could tell him about having did and he'd just... accept it. and he'd be open to me telling him how i'd like it to be.#addressed. idk. he'd probably immediately switch to gin if i told him i'd rather him call me that when. speaking to me. or people im out to#... most importantly#i... don't feel tired. i mean i do but not more than i was when i left#not. drained. no collapsing into bed because that whole... three nd a half hour date consisting of mostly talking exhausted me#...he's easy to talk to. and i felt. i could take breaks from speaking whenever i needed to. there was a lot of silence but he never made#it awkward. yk.? i mean. about the body lamguage thing. he knows when i'm not thinking of what to talk about next. and he just... holds me.#maybe an offhand comment... thanking me for going out. he likes being with me. things that i could reply to nonverbally. yk#... he's really nice. i think . yeah. i want to go out with him again
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luveline · 1 year
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Ok what about a lil fic of Remus being snappy with his gf leading up to the full moon? Just some angst and then fluffy ending with them reconciling
thank u for ur request! —remus says something he shouldn't before the full moon, and later campaigns for your forgiveness with affection and a confession. fem!reader, 1.2k
Remus lays on the couch with his forearm pressed to his eyes. It's the day before the full moon, and he feels the hours approaching like a death sentence every time. You hover in the doorway, watching, unsure of how to help. He gets the same every month (or rather, every cycle). 
Irritable. So anxious he can't breathe properly, let alone enter conversation. 
You hate seeing him like this. Your Remus, who spends every moment you're together trying to make sure you're as happy as you can be. 
Cautious, you round the sofa to crouch by his face. You hold out your hand, trailing a gentle fingertip down the length of his arm, tripping over pinched skin ridged by scars. He's beautiful no matter what, but he gets insecure about how he looks every full moon. You know he thinks he's a monster. You've no way to prove it to him beyond this. 
"Hey, handsome," you say softly. "I know you're not hungry, but I made dinner anyway if you feel up to it. And I know," —you drop your voice to a near whisper— "I know you're not in the mood, but I'm here. I can sit here and stroke your hair in silence all night if that's what you want, my love. I'll do whatever you want." 
"Then leave me alone," he says. 
Half snap, half firm defeat. You wince at the ire in his voice. It won't ever be nice to have someone you love speak to you like you're getting on their nerves, but you know what it is he's facing. You know this is hard for him to cope with. You can forgive him for everything if he makes it through this in one piece. 
"Okay. I'm sorry. I love you, Remus." 
He turns his head toward the sofa cushions. 
You leave the room with a heavy heart. In the kitchen, you try to eat, but every mouthful makes you feel sick, your eyes welling with tears as you chew. You're hurt, he's hurting, and this really, really sucks. 
The smell of dinner starts to amplify the nausea. You grab your plate and carry it to the back door, scraping your leftovers straight into the rubbish. You wash your plate and leave it to drip dry on the draining board, your eyes burning. You sniff, wiping your nose in your sleeve. 
You're hoping desperately that Remus will come around before bed, but he stays where he is. Thinking he's finally found sleep and wanting to leave him to that blissful reprieve, you creep through the living room and down the hallway into the bedroom. Tears fall as you change into your pyjamas. You're so tired that you barely have time to cry yourself to sleep. 
You're not sure how much longer it is when you wake. A familiar hand cups your cheek. 
From the warmth of your skin, he's had his hand there for a while. 
"I'm so sorry," Remus says. 
You don't know how he knows you're awake. He must have been watching you long enough to spot the difference. Honestly, you're not sure you want to see him yet, because you love him so much, and it breaks your heart to be at the end of his disdain even when you know the cause. 
You struggle to see him in the dark. 
"I should never have spoken to you like that." 
Your eyes close of their own accord, exhausted and sore from crying. "You didn't mean it." 
"I wish you'd shout at me," he murmurs, sliding his hand over your ear. His thumb draws along the shell of your ear. 
"I'm too tired," you mumble. 
Remus' head shifts closer to yours. Sharing the same pillow, his hand falls to your shoulder, his arm wrapping around you, a firm bicep pressed to your front. 
You let yourself lean into it. His breath warms the space between your brows. 
"It's no excuse, but I… I can't think of anything else but the pain, sometimes. I get so angry about it, because I'm–" He stops short, swallowing audibly in the otherwise silent room. "I'm scared. But I would be a hundred times more terrified if I didn't have you, knowing you're there for me, unflinchingly, before and after it happens, it helps me get through it. It's not fair that you give me so much peace and I just… 
"I'm sorry, dove. I don't mean to take advantage of your… heart." He says heart like he's been winded. He hadn't sounded finished, but everything stops at that word. 
You force your eyes open. He's looking at you with an unspeakable amount of love, kind to keel you over if you were standing. His eyes are pitch black in the lack of light, irises melded with pupils, giving him an even sorrier gaze. You raise a sluggish hand to his where it rests behind your back and pull it back to your face. You miss his touch. 
"I love you," you say. 
"I know," he says, his jaw tensing in an attempt to stage off tears. "I love you, too." You watch them collect in the corners of his eyes, following one as it slides to rest in the dip of his nose bridge while he lies on his side like this. 
"So don't be sorry." 
"But I am sorry. I can't fathom why I think it's okay to treat you that way." 
"You don't think at all, Remus. I'm not being flippant, but you're busy worrying about the worst of it." You shake your head gently. His hand twitches against your cheek. "I don't blame you." 
"I know," he utters. 
You stare up at him as he sits enough to tower over you. His smile is sorry, in love and ashamed. You want to tell him how it doesn't matter, that it's okay, but you're thinking maybe you need him to say it first. 
"I'm sorry." 
"Remus, you only told me to leave you alone." 
"I need you to know that any other time, you're all that I want. You're everything. I couldn't ask for more than you. Please don't think I'm cruel," he pleads in a whisper. 
You lift your chin incrementally. "I'd never think that." 
His apology kiss is coddling. Like he's worried he'll hurt you, like he's holding back, he kisses you like you can't handle more than a chaste press of the lips. 
"I love you," he says into it. 
You lift your head to kiss him harder. You love him, and you won't break. You can be exactly as strong as he needs you to be, so long as love waits at the end of the night. 
"I love you." A huff of a laugh escapes him. "Does this mean I'm forgiven?" Caution has his joke falling flat.
You nuzzle your cheek against his, knowing you'd forgiven him just as soon as he'd snapped. "If you let me stroke your hair. Did you eat your dinner?" 
"I'll eat it tomorrow," he says. A white lie, you both know, but he slides down further under the sheets so you can reach his head. 
You card your fingers through his hair until you've both fallen asleep. 
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devoutekuna · 4 months
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Taking care of his pregnant wife
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Includes- Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Geto
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Sukuna-
Everyone knows that the king isn't big of affection, it took years for him to even consider you the queen. That's why he always expressed his love for you in indirect gifts, like preparing your favourite meal, raiding a village just so you could get your favourite food or something like that. "Y/N!" Name being screamed as he grabbed your leg, watching your sleeping body hang in the air as he held you upside down. "Get up, don't be burden " you both knew that you'd never be a burden to him, it was only nearly words to him, meaning nothing but to keep his image. "I'm up 'my king'" rolling your eyes at the word king rolling off your tongue, he would've dropped you on the bed right now, but he remembers that your carrying the next heir, wanting to make sure you didn't die before him, he placed you on the floor, pulling your dress down so you didn't flash him.
Sat at the dining table, legs crossed as he stuffed his face with food, he rarely had a big breakfast unless it was a special occasion, always opting for a big dinner instead. "Morning" your cheery self rubbing your stomach, it was a habit now, since you were on the verge of giving birth any second now. Nodding as he carried on eating, you couldn't blame him, Uraume made some good food, that's why they were alive for so long. Sat beside him as you reached for the nearest plate, picking your favourite food up, resting your head onto his shoulder, normally hed kill anyone right there for getting too close to him but since it was you, you had a pass.
Nanami-
Nanami loves you and his daughter, always opting for you to rest rather than take care of your 3 year old. Finding you asleep on the at the kitchen table after coming home from work, head resting on the table from your exhaustion, hearing the TV blaring into his ears as he peeked round the corner, seeing his 3 year old daughter sat at the front of the TV, head resting on her shoulder, wrapped in a bunch of blankets and her own toys, noticing how smart and considerate she was for putting a blanket and pillow on you. Sighing as he hid back a smile, dropping his briefcase which carried his cursed weapon, walking over to check your temperature since it was pretty cold. Strolling over to his daughter as he picked her limp body up. Straddling her in his arms as he dragged her upstairs, fortunately she had brushed her teeth already and gotten into her pyjamas, so it was an easy task of just dropping her off into bed.
Walking back down after dropping his daughter off, picking you up, making sure not bump your stomach on the table, he wanted to make sure you were close but comfortable, especially since you recently complained about back pain cause of the baby. Resting your body onto the pull out sofa, wrapping your body in a bunch of blankets to keep your temperature normal. Kissing your forehead before heading off to the kitchen, sleeves already rolled up as he put on the yellow gloves and dipped his hand into the dirty water, searching for some small utensils he could wash first.
Geto-
Geto adores you pregnant, trying to sympathise with the way you feel despite his unethical ways of life. "Let me do that" grabbing the pot from your hands as you tried to drain the water out of the pot. Ushering you to sit down instead of overworking yourself. "I'm not that delicate, Suguru" trying to defend your actions as you took a seat, not rejecting the offer as it was nice for someone else to take over once in a while.
"I know but still" trying to defend his actions as he served you a bowl of noodles, giving your cheek a quick peck before sitting down beside you. "But I appreciate your efforts" smiling at him as you played with your noodles, making sure they weren't too hot.
Gojo-
"Y/N!" Shaking your limp body awake, hands full of cleaning supplies. "What shall I use?" Glancing towards the bathroom, normally you two rotated on cleaning but since you were pregnant he started to take over your shifts, noticing how sleepy and disoriented you were due to being woken up after a short nap. "Morning love, now what do I use?" Fighting the urge to drop whatever he was doing and cuddle in bed right now.
"What are you cleaning?" Rubbing your hand through your eyelashes to get the sleep out. "The bathrooms, but the wall tiles." Confirming with himself. He didn't know anything about cleaning till he met you, having to teach him from scratch since he was raised as a spoiled kid who had nannies. "I've got myself a toothbrush thing and wall spray?" Asking, he was in a rush since he wanted to get back to you, laying around in bed was his biggest want right now. Nodding in response. "Yeah just use that, wake me up when breakfast is done" knowing that he'd make your favourite breakfast since you were carrying his kid.
Toji-
Waking up on his wife was the best feeling, not needing a pillow due to him sleeping on your breasts, listening to your heartbeat as you slept soundly. Hand rubbing along your stomach, trying to feel some sort of movement from his little girl. "Morning love" caressing his hair as you felt him on you, feeling his small stubble as he lifted his head, brown eyes looking into yours. "Morning" hand resting against your underwear's waistband, playing with it as he kept on stringing it onto your skin. Sighing as he felt kicking from his little girl, sliding off you as you readjusted your body into a more comfortable position. "Ya' sleep good?" Looking up at your face, he was so mesmerized by you, hand still rubbing your stomach.
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thatbloodymuggle · 2 months
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MASTERMIND (ii)
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TWO - FALLING WATER
SUMMARY: A child of light and dark, you are the Night Court’s best kept secret. After decades spent in hiding, you yearn to stretch your wings. But you quickly learn that freedom comes with a price, as you find yourself trying to outfox the fox in his own den.
PAIRING: eris vanserra x reader
WORD COUNT: 9.4k
SERIES MASTERLIST
WARNINGS: language, smut, oral (f receiving)
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The memories of the night before come crashing down over you before your eyes even open the next morning. As you stir from your restless sleep, you can still smell the cedar of the blazing bonfire, hear the waltz of the orchestra, and feel Eris’s lips ghosting over your neck. Your eyes flutter open, and you lazily run a hand over your face. You flinch at the cool feeling of metal against your cheek, all grogginess gone as you look down at your hand. The silver of Eris’s ring still sits proudly on your thumb–a reminder that you hadn’t imagined last night’s events.
Autumn Court treating you well, my little liaison?
You jolt abruptly at the sound of Rhys’s voice flooding your mind.
Well enough, you reply as you haul yourself from the creaky bed.
Any updates? He questions.
The dust-covered floor is cold underneath your feet as you pad to the bathroom. I made initial contact last night, you reply. Your cheeks warm as you will away any thoughts about the details of your initial contact. 
Did he take the bait?
Like a fish, you hum over the connection. 
His deep laugh fills your mind, Good. Tread carefully.
You roll your eyes and send over one last message before putting up your mental barriers. Will do, oh mighty High Lord.
Right on cue, your stomach grumbles. A hunger pain washes over you, and you glance toward the kitchenette with a frown. You hadn’t even realized that the last time you ate a proper meal was in the Night Court before your departure yesterday. You hastily wipe the sleep from your face and prepare yourself for the day ahead. Once you deem yourself presentable enough, you throw a cloak over your shoulders and head out into the forest towards the town. Another wave of hunger washes over you, prompting you to winnow rather than walk.
A sweet aroma of clover and fire smoke tickles at your nose as you land in the middle of the small-town square. A soft smile graces your features as you take in the familiar surroundings–you have always loved the colonial architecture of the Autumn Court. The saltbox houses of varying sizes and colors are perfectly mismatched, with wooden ‘Open’ signs hanging in each window. You make your way down the cobblestone path, an empty basket in hand, and begin your window shopping. 
By noon, your basket is nearly overflowing with a variety of goods ranging from freshly baked pastries to perfectly ripened apples. After several hours of flashing smiles and playing the part of Athena Ellesmere flawlessly, your social battery is drained, to say the least. All you want is to curl up in front of the fireplace in your cabin and read one of the many books you’ve packed. But you have one more stop to make.
A bell jingles as you push open the mahogany door of the wheat and grain store. You barely close it behind you before you are bombarded with a familiar, cheerful voice.
“Athena!”
You fight through your exhaustion and force a wide smile onto your face as you turn to Willow. Her red hair is slightly duller than much of the Autumn Court residents–more of a strawberry blonde. But her green eyes are strikingly bright, reminding you of the emerald of Eris’s shirt last night.
You set down your basket and greet her with an embrace, “It’s good to see you, Willow.”
“You’ve settled in well?” she chirps as she pulls away with a grin.
You nod with a soft smile, “For the most part. I was just picking up some things for my stay, but I had to stop in.”
The faerie smiles and opens her mouth to reply but pauses at the sound of the door creaking behind her. You tense as a burly male enters the shop from the backdoor. Finnian is far from the worst Autumn Court male you have encountered–but he certainly isn’t pleasant either. 
A bitter taste floods your mouth as you force your head into a greeting bow for the male before you, as per Autumn Court custom. As beautiful as the land is, you could never fathom living in a society in which females are treated with such little respect. Still, you conceal your distaste as you greet him, “Hello, Finnian.”
He merely grunts and nods in greeting. You fight the urge to roll your eyes.
“Your father couldn’t come himself?” he sneers.
You dig your nails into your palms, but your sickly-sweet smile doesn’t falter, “Unfortunately, no. I’ll be doing his bids once again.”
Finnian grunts in disapproval but doesn’t press the subject further. Instead, he nods his head at his wife expectantly. Willow turns to you with an apologetic smile, “I should really get back to work. But I would love it if you’d stop in during my lunch break one of these days.”
Your smile stretches wider, your cheeks burning in protest, as you nod and pick up your basket, “Yes, of course. It was good seeing you both.”
You all but run out of the store and let out a sigh of relief when you finally drop the plastic smile. “Stupid Autumn Court males and their fragile egos,” you grumble to yourself. You were already exhausted–but that unpleasant interaction was the cherry on top of a draining morning. 
With your basket nearly overflowing with goodies, you decide against winnowing. So, with a long sigh, you begin your stride back to your cabin. The basket weighs heavily on your arm, but you allow the wind nipping at your nose to distract you from the dull ache. As you leave the small town behind you and enter the forest, you immerse yourself in the kaleidoscope of autumn colors. 
And as you study the unique bend and curve of each tree truck, you can’t help but think about your mother. The reds reminded you of her velvet dresses. The yellows were her radiant skin when the sun rays shone through the library windows. The browns reflected her kind eyes, warm like chocolate. She would have loved this. 
Your back stiffens as you feel a lingering presence behind you. You don’t dare look back, but your ears perk up. Sure enough, a twig crunches to your left.  Who the hell is watching you? A wave of dread rushes over you, but you continue forward. You make sure the rhythm of your steps doesn’t falter, as to not alert your stalker to your awareness of their presence. Your hand slowly trails to the pocket of your cloak, and you subtly brandish a pocket-sized dagger Azriel gifted you last Starfall. In one swift motion, you spin around, drop your basket of goodies, and hold the dagger against the throat of your stalker. 
Your heart sinks at the sight of bright, amber eyes staring back at you. 
“Now this isn’t a very polite manner of greeting, is it Little Bird?” Eris’s lips curl into a roguish smile despite the metal pressed tightly against his throat.
The initial shock rolls over you and you drop the dagger. A hot flush crawls up your neck and you drop to your knees to gather the apples that had spilled out of your basket to avoid his piercing gaze.
“Well, it isn’t very polite to sneak up on people, is it?” you counter.
Just as your fingers graze the last apple, he swoops down and wraps his hand over yours atop the piece of fruit. You still as he rolls his thumb over the silver ring sitting snugly on yours.
“And it isn’t very polite to steal,” he muses, “But I suppose I should’ve known better. After all, birds are drawn to shiny things.”
You snatch your hand away, and Eris uses the opportunity to grab the apple before swiftly rising to his full height. You watch, dumbfounded, as he takes a large bite, a bit of juice dribbling down his chin. He wipes it away with a knowing smirk, and the blush crawling up your neck reaches your cheeks. Your mind screams at you, get it together. You blink, taking a moment to collect yourself, before standing up on wobbly legs.
“Fox got your tongue?” he taunts.
Your lips part at the way his tongue darts out to catch another bit of juice dribbling out the corner of his mouth. Your eyes scan down his body, drinking in his appearance. Gone is the emerald silk shirt from the night before, and in its place a sage vest atop a cream, long-sleeve shirt with billowing sleeves. Even in this more casual attire, he still exudes a certain elegance. 
Finally, you are able to formulate words, “Your trousers are undone.”
His brows furrow as he looks down, and you snatch the half-eaten apple from his unsuspecting hand. You take a large bite and relish in the sweetness of the fruit. Eris grins like a cheshire cat as he realizes your play. A hearty chuckle rumbles in his chest.
“Perhaps I misjudged you,” he drawls, “You thieve like a vixen.”
You finish off the apple with a satisfied hum and toss the core into the woods, away from the dirt path. “I would think that centuries of existence would teach you better than to judge a book by its cover,” you quip, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I do have business to attend to.”
You turn on your heel and continue your stride along the winding path. To no surprise, Eris falls into step beside you.
“And what business may that be?” he inquires.
A small smile twitches at your lips, “You’re nosy today,” you tease, but answer his query, nonetheless, “Some correspondences for my father. He’s sent me here to solidify some trade agreements with the harvest season beginning.”
“A merchant’s daughter,” Eris wonders aloud, “Not exactly what I had you pegged for.”
You arch a brow and tilt your head to face him, “And what is it that you had me pegged for?”
He takes the heavy basket from your arm, ignoring your protests, “A scholar. Or perhaps a spy.”
It takes everything in you not to react to his second guess, even though his tone is teasing. Instead, you reply coolly, “Well I’m also here to do some research. I have some ideas about some more efficient trade routes, but I haven’t been able to find any library with an adequate collection of atlases.”
Eris hums in thought, and you pray he plays into your hand, “I may be able to grant you access to the Forest House library,” you force down your proud grin, “But for a price.” 
You don’t bother hiding the exaggerated roll of your eyes, “And what might that be?”
Your heart skips a beat as he steps into your path, halting you abruptly. His head dips and you suck in a breath at his proximity. You find yourself mesmerized by the strong bridge of his nose, the fullness of his lips, as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His delicate touch sends a shiver up your spine.
“A few hours of your time. I’d like to show you a place more befitting of your beauty than that little ransack cabin you’ve been caged in. Somewhere you can spread your wings, Little Bird,” he breathes.
You gulp, eyes wide at his forwardness–not to mention his inadvertent admission that he has been watching you. You all but melt into the touch of his calloused fingers as they trail down the side of your face before falling back at his side. His lips curl with amusement as you fumble for words.
“Okay,” you lamely reply.
He hums, satisfied by your answer. Your breath hitches in your throat as he leans closer and presses his lips against your cheek. His kiss is gentle, but it lingers in a tortuous manner that leaves you wanting more as he pulls away. Warm eyes wink at you as he purrs, “Till next time, Little Bird.”
And with that, he vanishes, winnowing away before you can catch your breath. Your heart races as you lift a hand to your face, ghosting your fingers over the spot on your cheek where his lips had been. He used your own move against you, and you can’t decide if you are awed or terrified–or both. But whatever the feeling, a dark part of you revels in it.
Guilt crashes over you at the realization;  just as fierce as the unbridled desire that pools in the pit of your stomach. Your feet move with a mind of their own as your mind spirals. You should not be enjoying this. As much as Rhys may try to hold on to his feeble alliance with him, Eris is the enemy. And your indulgence in his game of seduction is a grave betrayal to not only your court, but to your sister. 
You aren’t conscious of your movements as you enter your ramshackle cabin. Methodically, you kick off your boots, set down your basket, and shed your heavy cloak. You slip out of your burnt orange dress and move to the bathroom, your heart pounding in your ears. The silver ring glittering on your thumb is suddenly scorching, and you hastily take it off, throwing it onto the counter. As you stare at your reflection in the mirror, you desperately search your own features for some semblance of stability; some sort of reminder of what you’re here to do. You turn to the side and raise your arm, brushing your hand over the underside of your breast.
A sigh of relief passes through your lips as the glamour you’ve worn since you stepped foot in the Autumn Court fades, and your tattoo stares back at you: the Night Court insignia, identical to that worn by the other members of the inner circle. But unlike the others, the Day Court sun shines bright behind the Illyrian Mountain. You trace the lines, and the tension in your shoulders subsides.
Despite the undeniable effect Eris has over you, you know where your loyalty and your love lies. No matter how wily the fox may be. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Two days. Two excruciatingly long days full of fake bargaining, plastic smiles, and arrogant males have passed–and Eris hasn’t shown his face. Perhaps he got tied up with some court politics, or more likely, he forgot entirely. Whatever the case, you are not pleased, to say the least. Nor is Rhys. The beauty of the Autumn Court is the only thing that has kept you sane. But even in all its charm, you are growing restless. And you’re not sure how much longer you can wait around, itching to play.
Desperate to blow off some steam, you find yourself venturing far into the woods to mindlessly use your powers. You know it’s a risk–if anyone were to catch wind of your Night or Day Court powers, it could very possibly blow your entire cover. But if you don’t do something, you may simply die of boredom. You lose track of time as you conjure light from your fingertips into the trees above, slink into the shadows, and winnow in circles. Light, shadow, winnow, repeat. Over and over again, until the adrenaline passes, and exhaustion sets in. 
Sweat beads at your brow as you winnow, once, twice, three times more before you finally land in front of your cabin. Your legs wobble as you stumble towards the front door. Despite your tired limbs, you haven’t felt so awake since you first set foot in the Autumn Court. 
You are minutes away from collapsing on your rickety bed and reading yourself to sleep. So, imagine your surprise when you enter and find a head of flaming red hair seated on top of it. 
Eris isn’t just seated–he’s lounging on your bed, legs crossed, as if he owns it. His eyes don’t so much as shift in your direction, as he appears to be immersed in one of your books. You squint at the title, and your eyes widen with horror as it clicks. He’s reading one of Nesta’s books. Those stupid, cursed, little smut books she can’t seem to stop shoving down your throat.
“I knew you were filthy, Little Bird, but I didn’t think you were this filthy,” Eris muses.
You’re sure your cheeks are now matching the color of his hair as you rush forward and snatch the book from his hands. His eyes finally meet yours, and if your magic wasn’t completely drained, you would slip into the shadows without a second thought. He wears a vicious grin and playful delight dances in the irises of his eyes. 
“It’s not mine,” you mumble, averting your own eyes from his punishing gaze.
He tuts, “I don’t like liars, Birdie. It’s okay to admit you need a little release sometimes. Everyone does. Although, when I need a little release, I usually–”
“What are you doing here?” you hiss, the blush on your cheeks burning even brighter than before.
He holds his hands coyly across his chest and taps his index fingers together in a taunting motion, “You promised me a few hours of your time–or did you forget?”
You narrow your eyes and clutch the book tightly to your chest, as if the damage hasn’t already been done, “A little heads up would have been nice. You can’t just barge in here as you please.”
He swings his legs over the side of the bed and rises, stalking closer to you. You tense as he stops right in front of you and tilts your chin up softly, so your eyes meet his, “I am a busy man. Forgive me, darling.”
He runs his tongue along his teeth with a feline smile as he watches you audibly gulp. 
“Where are we going?” you lamely ask.
He clicks his tongue in his mouth before replying, “Now if I tell you that will ruin all the fun.”
You roll your eyes and jerk yourself out of his hold, “Can you at least tell me what attire would be appropriate?”
“What you’re wearing is fine. But I don’t think green is your color,” he banters.
Your glare speaks louder than words.
“Although,” he grasps your hand in his and brandishes a familiar, silver ring from his pocket, “You seem to have forgotten your little trophy.”
You watch as he slides the ring back onto your thumb. You frown and flick your eyes up towards his, “You can have it back.”
Eris shakes his head, “I’d like it if you wore it–at least throughout your stay here,” he pauses, before continuing, “Can you promise me you won’t take it off again?”
Although the playful glint in his eye remains, it falters for a fraction of a moment, revealing an emotion you can’t quite place your finger on–something dark. But you decide against pushing the subject. You simply nod, and he hums in satisfaction.
“Well let’s get moving then. Unless you’d rather stay here and continue reading your filthy little–”
“I’m moving,” you effectively cut Eris off, willing the blush not to return to your cheeks. You fight the urge to roll your eyes when you feel his gaze on your ass as you exit the cabin. “Are we walking?” you send him a glance over your shoulder.
“Too far,” he falls into step beside you, “We’ll winnow.”
Your shoulders tense, and you are suddenly reminded of the aching in your body from running your magic dry earlier. You halt abruptly and turn to face him fully, “I can’t.”
Eris’s arches a brow in incredulity, “I just heard you winnow not even 10 minutes ago.”
A sheepish smile takes over your face and you reply as nonchalantly as possible, “I’m too tired. I was, erm, blowing off some steam earlier—I don’t think I could even winnow to the other side of the cabin right now.”
His eyes narrow slightly as he analyzes your answer, “Blowing off steam?”
You cringe internally and send the Autumn Court heir a nervous smile, “You know, just winnowing around.” 
His scrutinizing gaze narrows further, “So you were just winnowing around in circles?”
“Yes.”
“And now you can’t winnow anymore?”
“Correct.”
It’s the truth—just not all of it.
Despite your best efforts, you can’t contain your giggle. You didn’t think about how ridiculous it would sound; winnowing around to burn off energy, much like a dog chasing its own tail. As you chuckle quietly to yourself, the playful grin returns to Eris’s face. 
“You’re a strange little thing,” he laughs, and reaches out his hand to you.
You gaze at his waiting hand, and tentatively intertwine your fingers with his before you can talk yourself out of it. A familiar rush of adrenaline surges through you as he winnows you both, the world twisting and folding around you. 
You don’t attempt to contain your gasp at the sight before you. In-between a crowd of beautiful orange and red-leafed trees lies a waterfall unlike any you’ve seen before. In fact, this may very well be the first waterfall you’ve ever seen. It is modestly sized, and flows down several layers of terraced, moss-covered rock; but the beauty, the intoxicating smell, is unlike anything you’ve experienced before. The cherry on top of the cake is the small watermill cottage at the creek bend, just where the water falls off. The scene looks like something out of an art museum. Captivated, you edge towards the water until the mist tickles your nose.
“It’s…breath-taking,” you mumble, vaguely aware of Eris lingering beside you.
While you gaze is fixed on the scene before you, his is set on you. He can’t help but study the way your lips part in awe, your familiar eyes widen in wonderment—like you’re experiencing the world for the first time.
“It is,” he mumbles in response, although his gaze remains trained on you.
He follows you quietly—patiently—as you wander closer to the water’s edge. You run your fingertips along each moss-covered rock, trying to engrain every small detail into your memory. You crouch down to dip your hand into the blue-green water, but jolt back at the frigid temperature. 
“Where are we?” you cock your head to the side, finally peeling your eyes away from the picturesque scene.
Eris leans against a tree, his arms crossed over his chest. The sleeves of his white undershirt billow softly in the breeze. “Up North. Closer to the Winter Court border,” his deep voice rumbles over the sound of the waterfall, “I come here when I need to think.”
“I take it the house is yours?” you gesture towards the small cottage.
“More or less. It was a part of my mother’s estate once; a very long time ago,” he pushes off the tree and stalks closer to you, “It’s not a secret, but it’s…private. When I don’t want to be found, or simply need space, it’s unlikely anyone will look here.”
“Do you hide from your family often?” you hum nonchalantly.
Eris bristles slightly at your question, but replies coolly, “Sometimes. They have a tendency to be…suffocating.”
You know that feeling all too well—but you simply nod, avoiding the slippery slope of divulging your own past.  You sit down on a nearby tree stump, and gaze out at the waterfall as you ask, “Are you close with your brothers?”
He strides towards you and perches himself atop a large boulder, “In some ways, yes. But being heir to the throne doesn’t afford me the luxury of friends.”
You open your mouth to fire yet another question, but he cuts you off with an impish smile, “You’re curious today, Little Bird. It doesn’t seem fair that you know so much about me, and I know so little about you.”
“You know my name. And you choose not to use it,” you counter with an arched brow.
“Would you like me to?” he asks. 
A simple question should afford a simple answer. But for some reason, his query makes the hair on your arms stand on end. You should say yes. You shouldn’t let silly little pet names distract you from the work you’re here to do. Say yes.
“No.”
He hums in satisfaction, and you avoid his gaze by training your eyes back onto the waterfall. From your peripheral, you can see Eris rise from his spot on the boulder. He moves out of your line of vision, and you can hear the rustling of fabric behind you. Your curiosity screams at you to look back; but your stubbornness keeps your head trained forward. 
Suddenly, the rustling stops. Just as you’re about to give into your curiosity and turn around, a nearly-naked Eris bounds past you, towards the water, and dives gracefully in. Your jaw drops as you let out an involuntary squeal, trying (and failing) to shield yourself from the splash.
“Are you insane?” you shriek as soon as his head pops back up out of the water.
He shakes his hair like a dog and wipes a hand over his face with a childish grin. You can’t help but laugh at the sight, causing his toothy grin to widen even further.
“Only slightly,” he retorts, head bobbing as he treads water, “Why don’t you join me?”
You shake your head vigorously, “Absolutely not. I’m not in the mood to freeze to death.”
“Come on, Little Bird. It’s not that cold,” he taunts, “How about we play a game?”
He swims closer and you subconsciously lean forward. A glint of mischief dances in your eyes as you ask, “What sort of game?”
He raises his arms out of the water and folds them across a rock along the edge. You gulp at the sight of his broad shoulders and can’t help but study the way his muscles ripple as he moves. 
“Since you’re so privy to asking me questions,” he drums his fingers along the rock, “I get to ask you five.”
You fold your arms across your chest, “That’s it?”
A devilish grin dances across his lips, “If you fail to answer any question, you join me in here.”
Your eyes narrow into a glare, but your smile betrays you, “Three questions.”
“Four.”
“Fine,” you relent.
Eris wades gently through the water in thought before speaking up again, “What’s your greatest fear?”
Your mouth moves before you brain can catch up, “Being trapped—not like in a traditional claustrophobia sort of way, but in the sense that I can’t do what I want, move as I please.”
Eris’s head tilts as he mulls over your response before asking another question, “What’s your biggest dream?”
Again, your mouth moves with a mind of its own, “I want to travel the world—see every little piece of Prythian, and when I run out of land, explore the seas.”
“I thought your father is a merchant—you don’t travel with him?”
Your heart skips a beat as you realize your misstep. But, like the professional Azriel has trained you to be, you don’t so much as twitch an eye to show your error. “I only travel to the mainland of each Court to do is biddings for him. I haven’t seen much—really anything—beyond that,” you maintain a steady voice as you lie through your teeth, “Two more questions.”
Eris’s eyes narrow slightly as he scans your face. Your answer seems too…rehearsed. But you’ve shown absolutely no indication of lying. Finally, he asks, “What about your mother?”
Your detached exterior falters. Your lips dip ever so slightly into a frown. Eris watches intently. Finally, you muster a response, “She died during Amarantha’s crusade.”
Eris frowns and his head dips slightly—a sign of respect, “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Your lips part at the motion. It is extremely uncharacteristic of Autumn Court males to treat females with such respect. In fact, Eris has surprised you with every single one of your interactions. Coming into this, you knew that he wasn’t a typical male, considering he wants Beron dead. But you weren’t quite prepared for just how, well, normal he is.
“Thank you,” you finally reply with sincerity. Your lips curl into a soft smile, one which you don’t have to force, as you change the subject, “Last question.”
 He matches your smile and swims backwards, dipping his hair under water, “I’ve better make it good then.”
You watch as he swims to and fro, taking his sweet time deciding what nonsense he will inevitably throw your way. His questions have been far too calm and calculated thus far; and you haven’t refused one. 
Right on cue, Eris swims towards you with a smile befitting of the devil. You can practically see the flames dancing in his irises, and the pitchfork tail wagging behind him.
“Does the carpet match the drapes?”
You were expecting nonsense. But you aren’t sure if anything could have prepared you for that.
Your face pales and you drop your jaw in utter shock. His is nearly as red as his hair as he tries, and fails, to contain his laughter. Suddenly, the switch flips and you face contorts into disgust.
“You are swine, Eris Vanserra. Filthy, perverted swine,” you screech as you leap from your tree stump.
He howls in laughter, and you want nothing more than to wring his neck. You turn swiftly on your heel and send him a crude gesture over your shoulder as you storm away.
“Oh, come back, Little Bird! I was only teasing,” tears spill from the corners of his eyes as he tries to calm himself down.
You pause and turn back towards him. Your glare is as icy as Nesta’s as you stare at him. He has never looked more like a fox through his snickering laughter. He swims to the edge of the water and beckons you forward. Your feet remain planted in the ground, “You promise?”
Tears of delight well again in his amber eyes as he replies, “Yes. I don’t care if they match.”
Your lips curl into a vicious snarl and you grab a rock, chucking it as hard as you can towards him. He barely dodges the flying stone through his hysterics. “Okay, okay, I promise I’m done now,” he wheezes.
You tap your foot impatiently as you wait for him to calm down. Finally, his manic laughter ceases, and he simply looks at you with a faux apologetic smile.
“Well come on, then.”
You gnaw on your bottom lip with a frown, “I’m not taking off my clothes.”
“If you swim in that dress you’ll drown,” he nods his head at the heavy material, “At least put on my shirt.”
You hesitate as you eye the cream, long-sleeved button-down shirt tossed haphazardly onto the forest floor. You reach down to pick it up and run your hands over the soft linen material. He senses your hesitation and adds, “I’ll turn around, if you’d like.”
Your eyes flick towards him, and true to his word, he turns and swims in the opposite direction. Still, you wait until he’s on the other end of the stream before stepping behind a tree and stripping off your dress. The breeze nips at your bare skin, and you shiver at the sensation. You take off layer after layer until you are left in your bra and panties. You hastily slide into Eris’s shirt and button it up all the way. It provides ample coverage, falling nearly to your knees—but you’re still freezing. And you can’t imagine the water will be any more pleasant. 
“Come on, Little Bird. I won’t wait all day,” Eris whines, the nearness of his voice indicating that he had finished his lap around the water. 
Finally, you step out of the trees. His Adam’s apple bobs at the image of you in his shirt. He doesn’t hide the way his eyes drift, scanning down your bare legs. A blush creeps up your neck, and before he can make a comment about your near nakedness, you set into a sprint and leap.
Your regret your decision before you even hit the water. And you want to kill Eris when you do. 
“It’s fucking freezing!” you wail the second your head breaks through the surface. You wipe the water from your eyes through a series of hyperventilating gasps, your body working hard to generate some kind of warmth. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you,” you repeat your new mantra over and over again, unwanted tears pricking at the corners of your narrowed eyes.
“Come here,” he beckons you forward.
You shake your head in obstinance.
Eris rolls his eyes at your childlike behavior. He swims towards you in three graceful strokes. You scramble backwards in the water, but he is a much more skilled swimmer than you. 
“Let me help you,” his voice his sweet like honey. You know this is his game—poke and prod until you bleed, and then lick the wounds clean.
You shake your head again and move to swim away, but he lunges before you can escape.
Instant, sweet, warm relief.
You nearly moan as his arms wrap around your body and pull you into his chest. He is hot—literally and figuratively. His chest burns like a furnace, and you wrap your arms around his neck without a second thought, pulling him even closer. You can feel him smiling as you nestle your head into the crook of his neck and wrap your legs around his waist. His legs work hard underneath the surface, keeping you both upright.
“Better?” he coos.
You simply grunt into his shoulder and nod.
His chuckle reverberates through your body, warming you even more. You are puddy in his hands, but right now, you couldn’t care less. You don’t utter a word as you relish in his warmth. The two of you slip into a comfortable silence, filled only by the distant rush of the waterfall and the water lapping up against your bodies. Just as you let your eyes flutter shut, the silence is severed by his rumbling voice.
“As much as I love your sharp tongue, Little Bird, I quite like you like this—sweet, soft, and pliant in my arms.”
You frown at the smugness in his tone and move to push away, but he wraps his arms around you even tighter.
“I’m still upset with you,” you grumble petulantly into his shoulder.
The tension in your shoulders eases as he presses his lips to the top of your head. You involuntarily shudder as he mumbles softly into your hair, “I’m sorry, Little Bird. Can I make it up to you?”
His hands move from underneath your thighs, and you wrap your legs tightly around his hips. Your breath hitches as he slowly trails his hands up over the curve of your hips. You are suddenly aware of how his button-down shirt floats to the surface, leaving your body almost completely exposed under the water. His hands still at the dip of your waist, and he rubs circles into your skin with his thumbs. His left hand leaves, and you flinch as it grazes the side of your neck, gently pushing your hair aside. Your heart beats frantically as he ghosts his lips along your sensitive skin. His open-mouthed kisses become firmer, but remain tentative; as if he’s giving you the opportunity to stop him. 
Slowly, you raise your head from the crook of his neck. Your eyes are wide, pupils blown as your gaze cautiously shifts upwards. You study the rise and fall of his chest, the shift of his jaw, before finally meeting the amber of his eyes. Your noses are millimeters apart—far too close for comfort, but you’re frozen in place.
Your lips part as his left hand reaches upwards again, and he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Any façade of apathy is long gone as your eyes become a window to your soul: curiosity, trepidation, but above all, an unwavering desire. Your body moves on its own accord as you run your fingers through the hair at the nape of Eris’s neck. The tip of your nose bumps against his, and that’s all it takes for him to lurch forward and close the gap between you.
Your mind typically works in overdrive. But the moment Eris’s lips meet yours, it empties entirely. His lips are impossibly soft as they move against yours in a languid dance. His hand cups the side of your face as he deepens the kiss, and you can’t help but sink into his gentle touch. His lips are smooth against your chapped ones, but you move in sync—like giving breath to fire. His fingers dig slightly into your waist, eliciting a gasp, and he uses the opportunity to slide his tongue into the gap between your lips. You jump at the cold feeling of rock against your back, but he doesn’t miss a beat as he nips softly at your bottom lip. You can feel your heart pounding in your head and your lungs burn from the lack of oxygen, but you can’t bring yourself to pull away.
“Relax, Little Bird,” he mumbles against your lips.
He pulls away but before you can protest the loss, he dips down and latches his lips to your neck. Your own swollen lips part in a silent gasp as he trails kisses down your neck, to your collarbone. You dig your nails into his skin as he nips particularly hard in one spot, and he groans against you. The hand gripping your waist slowly lowers to the curve of your hip, and you suck in a breath. He pauses his movements, and you nearly melt as his eyes flick up to yours. He waits patiently, silently asking for your permission. Your head dips into a nod and before you can process what is happening, his lips are on yours once again and his hand is firmly gripping the curve of your ass. 
This time, you can taste his hunger as he kisses you with fervor. Your head is spinning, and you grip around him tightens as he palms your soft skin underneath the frigid water. He presses you further into the rock behind you, and you freeze as his hand moves up and toys with the lacy fabric at your hips. He slides a finger underneath the band of your panties, and all of a sudden, the fog of desire clouding your mind rises.
“Wait,” you pull away with a gasp.
Even through your inner turmoil, you can’t help but admire the beauty of his tousled crimson hair, wide eyes, and swollen lips. 
His hand stills against your hip, before retreating underneath your knees to hold you up as he did before.
“I’m sorry,” he pants, “I got carried away. If I was moving too fast, I—”
“No,” you cut him off, “You didn’t do anything. You were perfect—I mean,” your decades of reading ancient literature seem to slip away as you scramble for words, “It’s not you. I just haven’t, um, you know…”
He furrows his brows in confusion, but his eyes widen in realization at the flaming, red blush crawling up your neck. The look of surprise on his god-like features makes you want to sink into the cold abyss below and never come up. Instead, you look down at the water lapping up between you two to avoid his gaze.
“I didn’t realize you were saving yourself,” his tone his soft, a contrast to his typically sharp tongue.
The blush creeping up your neck reaches your cheeks as you look up at him again and shake your head, “No, no I’m not. I just, well, I haven’t before. Not because I don’t want to,” you sigh, “I guess the opportunity has just never presented itself.”
You brace yourself for the impact of his teasing, but it never comes. Instead, his usually cold eyes are warm with understanding, and a soft smile tugs at his pink lips.
“No one’s ever touched you before?” he asks with sincerity.
You shake your head and wish the water below you would swallow you whole.
He caresses the side of your face with a feather-light touch that makes you shiver before replying, “It’s not anything to be embarrassed about. I just can’t believe no male has ever pursued you, in all your beauty.”
No man has ever pursued you, because no man has been able. You lived the first twenty years of your life hidden between rows of bookshelves. You spent the next decade hidden in the House of Wind, and since then, you’ve only left Velaris with the sole intent of business with other courts. But you can’t tell Eris all of this. You can’t tell him that you’ve never had sex before because, despite their good intention, Mor and Rhys have kept you under their thumbs for the entirety of your adult life. You can’t tell him how you desire, more than anything else, to break out of their mold. 
So instead, you say, “I want you to show me.”
Eris stares at you, his eyes swimming with an emotion you can’t quite put your finger on. You wait with bated breath, but he doesn’t move. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you lunge forward and pull him closer with your arms around his neck. The moment your lips reconnect, any thought in the back of your mind about your mission, your purpose for being here in the first place, dissipates entirely.
He groans at the feeling of your lips against his and wraps his arms tightly underneath your thighs. You barely feel the world twisting and folding as he winnows you out of the water. A wave of heat rushes over you and you can feel your whole body dry, but he doesn’t miss a beat as he carries you in his arms and runs his tongue along your bottom lip. Eris lays you down onto something soft, and you whine as he pulls away. Your eyes flutter open and your mouth sets into a pout, but for the first time, you notice the change in scenery.
You’re in a cabin—more accurately, on a plush bed in a cabin. But this cottage is much larger than what you’ve grown accustomed to in the woods.
“Patience, Little Bird,” Eris’s voice is thick with desire as he crawls on top of you. He nudges a knee between your legs, and you part them without a second thought.
He wears a smug smile as he dips down. You lurch forward to kiss him again, but he merely hovers a few inches above you, just out of your reach. You try again, this time tugging on the back of his neck to pull him down. But he simply won’t budge.
“Don’t be a prick,” you grumble, frustration boiling under your skin.
He laughs, and the sound makes something churn deep in your gut.
“Tell me where you want me, Birdie,” Eris rasps.
You frown, but you are too stunned to speak. You desperately want to wipe the smug grin off his face, but the words just won’t come out.
“Here?” he hums, rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip, “Or here?” his hand trails down your neck, to the curve of your breast. You hold your breath as he lightly drags his fingernails down to your stomach, pushing aside his shirt, “Am I getting closer?” he muses as he traces the band of your panties.
You dig your nails into his shoulders and whisper, “I want you to kiss me.”
Eris hums in approval and swoops down, reconnecting your lips once more. Your teeth bump slightly with the force of the kiss and your lips slide sloppily against his. You reach between your bodies and grab his hand, pressing it back against your abdomen before sliding it up. 
“I want you everywhere,” you mumble against his lips.
He releases a guttural moan into your mouth. Eris doesn’t give you a moment to think twice as he flips your bodies around so that his back is against the headboard of the bed, and you are straddling his lap. You move to unbutton his undershirt which still engulfs your body, but he swats your hands away. You gasp into his mouth as he swiftly rips the shirt open, sending buttons flying across the room. You let him push the material off your shoulders, and shiver as the air tickles your nearly bare body. His hands slowly, teasingly wrap around your waist, simultaneously pulling you closer and unclasping your bra. His lips slow against yours as he drags the flimsy material over your shoulders and down your arms, exposing your breasts to him.
Eris pulls his lips away from yours and gazes down at your bare chest. You are unable to will away the flush crawling up your neck as he caresses the curve of your breasts and runs his thumbs over your peaked nipples. His forehead falls against yours and he whispers against your lips, “You are perfect.”
His head dips down towards your breasts and his amber eyes flick up to yours, “May I?”
You can only nod weakly in response.
Your eyes flutter shut as he wraps his lips around your left nipple and flicks his thumb across your right. Your belly throbs at the sensation, and you shift in his lap. You jolt as your core presses against his groin, and a small smile tugs at your lips as you realize he is hard as a rock. You shift your hips again, rubbing against him, and you both moan in unison at the pleasure that shoots up your spines.
“Did your filthy little books teach you that?” he groans against your left breast before switching to your right.
You dig your nails sharply into his shoulders but continue grinding against him. His free hand grips your waist, setting a steady rhythm. Your hands trail down his shoulders, and you scrape your fingernails down his chest as you explore the firmness of his abdomen. Eris presses one last open-mouthed kiss to your breast before pulling off. You don’t give him a moment to catch his breath as you cup his face with your hands and pull him up, crashing your lips against his again. His taste is intoxicating, and you just can’t seem to get enough of it.
His hands snake around your waist and he grips your ass, squeezing the soft flesh and grinding you against him even harder. Your hands dip down from his abs to the band of his underwear. You lazily graze your hand along the material, dipping your fingers underneath teasingly. Just as you’re about to reach your hand inside, he firmly grips your wrist and flips your bodies once again so you are lying flat on your back.
“As much as I would love to have your hand wrapped around my cock,” Eris presses a taunting kiss to the corner of your lips, “This is all about you, Little Bird.”
You watch the rise and fall of your bare chest as he lowers himself down the length of your body. His trails open-mouthed kisses down your neck, between your breasts, until he reaches the band of your panties. You suck in a breath as his eyes flick up to yours, and his fingers toy with the lace trim.  
“Is this okay?” he whispers, fighting the smile tugging at his lips.
You nod dumbly.
You yelp as he hooks his arms around your thighs and tugs you down towards the edge of the bed. He runs a hand teasingly along your leg, up to your inner thigh. 
“Tell me what you want, Little Bird,” he teases as he touches every part of your exposed body, except where you need him most.
You whine and wriggle your hips, but he firmly holds you in place. He cocks a brow expectantly as he softly caresses your inner thigh.
“I want you,” you whimper, “I want you between my legs.”
Eris hums and latches his lips onto the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, sucking harshly before running his tongue along the same spot, “Here?”
Your face is flaming with embarrassment. Your core is throbbing, and you’re positive there’s a wet patch on the center of your panties. You shake your head, tears of frustration pricking at your eyes. 
He nudges a thumb underneath the band of your panties, “Am I getting warmer?”
You want to kick him, but you nod your head instead obediently. He presses his thumb directly on your clit through the wet spot on your panties, and you cry out at the sensation.
“I need words, Little Bird,” he presses his thumb harder.
Your thighs are shaking, and your desperation finally betrays you as a tear slips out of the corner of your eye.
“I want you on my cunt,” your voice trembles as you speak, “I want your fingers, your mouth, your tongue, I want it all. Please.”
His eyes darken, and a vicious smile curls onto his lips as he finally yanks the flimsy material down your legs and tosses it aside. He doesn’t give you a second to process the fact that you are completely bare for him as he runs a finger through you, admiring how your wetness collects at his fingertips. You nearly cry in relief as he finally presses the pad of his thumb directly onto your clit. Pleasure shoots up your spine as he flicks his thumb over the sensitive bundle of nerves, and you bite your lip to stifle a moan.
“Don’t be shy, darling. I want to hear how good I’m making you feel,” he purrs.
This time, you don’t stop the cry that bubbles in your throat as he increases the speed of his thumb and traces his other hand over your slick. He slides his middle finger over your entrance and pushes just his fingertip inside, his thumb continuously moving in a steady rhythm.
“Don’t tease. Please,” you beg, every ounce of self-respect left behind in that frigid stream.
He smirks and sinks his middle finger into you. You throw your head back with a moan as he curls it inside, pressing against a spot you had no idea even existed.
“I think you were made for me, Bird,” he mumbles as he slowly thrusts his finger inside of you, “I wish you could see the way your sweet cunt just sucks me in.”
You cover your face with the crook of your elbow to hide your embarrassment, but pull it away with a jolt as his teeth sink into your thigh; a warning.
He stops thrusting his finger, and instead curls it inside of you repeatedly, sending ripples of pleasure through your gut as he continuously stimulates that spot deep inside of you. A filthy squelching sound fills the room, but you too far past the point of self-consciousness to care.
Just as the tension starts to build in your gut, he pulls both of his hands away abruptly. You whine at the loss and look down just in time to meet his eyes as he runs his tongue in a long swipe up from your entrance to your clit. You cry out at the sensation unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. He moans against you, and the vibration makes your toes curl.
“You taste divine,” he rasps against you.
His tongue flicks against your clit, and you pant through uneven breaths. Your hands grasp at the sheets, desperately searching for something to stabilize yourself, and you throw your head back as he latches his lips over your bundle of nerves, sucking harshly. He sharply slaps your thigh and mumbles against your cunt, “Eyes on me.”
You all but melt as you glance down and meet his lust-filled gaze. His amber eyes don’t leave yours as he eats you out like a man starved. Your core continuously throbs, sending wave after wave of pleasure up your spine. You run your fingers through his crimson locks, pushing him against you even further, and he hums in approval.
You feel like you’ve been transported to another planet. And just when you think you couldn’t possibly take anymore, he runs a finger up your slit and sinks it back inside of you.
“Eris,” you mewl as he thrusts his finger while his tongue continues its ministrations against your clit.
He releases a guttural moan against you and curls his finger harshly against your spongy walls.
“Say my name again,” he murmurs against your slick before continuing, never missing a beat.
“Eris,” you moan as you feel the tension rapidly building in your groin.
“Again,” he groans, flicking his tongue even faster.
The pressure in your gut is almost too much, and you grip onto his hair for dear life as you chant his name like a mantra, “Eris, Eris, Eris.”
Which each utterance of his name, he curls his finger inside you. Your chanting is close to sobbing as the pressure builds, and builds, until the coil finally snaps.
Your vision blurs and you all but scream at the ecstasy coursing through your veins. You feel like you’re floating as waves of unbridled pleasure roll through your body, the tension in your gut finally coming to a head. Eris continues his ministrations as he rides you through your climax, until your legs spasm and your hips jolt at the hypersensitivity. He presses one last kiss to your core before slowly removing his hands. You can only watch in awe as he sucks his fingers into his mouth, licking every last drop of your slick from his hands.
Sweat beads at your forehead and your bare chest rises and falls rapidly as you come down from your high, slowly coming back to reality. His touch is gentle as he rises back up and lays beside you. You don’t protest as he pulls you into his chest and wipes away the tear trailing down your face. He presses his lips against your forehead and mumbles against you, “You did so well, darling.”
You rest your head against his chest and allow his warmth and the steady beat of his heart to calm you down. His fingers comb through your hair and scrape against your scalp in a soothing manner. You gaze shyly up at him, and find his eyes already trained on you. You wrap an arm around his chest and he pulls you closer, placing a sweet kiss on your chapped lips. You can taste yourself against him, and the thought makes you shiver. Your leg shifts between his thighs, and you can feel the hardness of his groin pressing up against you.
“What about you?” your voice is scratchy as you whisper against his lips.
Eris simply smiles down at you and presses his lips to your forehead, “Baby steps, Little Bird. Don’t worry about me—this was about you.”
Your heart melts at his words, and you can’t fight the small smile tugging at your lips. You rest your head in the crook of his neck and fall into a comfortable silence. The waterfall sounds through the walls of the cottage in the distance like a peaceful lullaby. 
“Thank you,” you whisper shyly, eyes flicking up towards his.
He wears his foxlike grin as he stares back down at you, “For what?”
Your lips graze his jaw as you speak, “For showing me all of this. For letting me be selfish.”
Amber eyes smile kindly at you, “Don’t ever thank me,” he says simply.
He continues his gentle stroking of your hair, and your eyes flutter shut as you marvel at how your body fits against his like a mold. 
You should feel guilty. Guilty for betraying your family. Dirty for putting your selfish desires above your loyalty to your court. But you can’t ignore how right it feels to be wrapped up in your supposed enemy’s arms. 
You know the panic will soon wash over you. But for now, you allow yourself to indulge in the marvelous incredulity of it all as you fall into a peaceful sleep to the steady beat of Eris’s heart.  
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
taglist:
@lilah-asteria @goldenmagnolias @myromanempiree @i-know-i-can @hannzoaks @olive-main @rcarbo1
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ilyhaitanii · 1 month
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hi moot! pls hydrate while toasted <3 LMAOAOO i would like to kindly request a blurb from you about sylus or zayne dealing with their s/o after they’ve had a mental crashout … <333 ((i am so mentally emotionally physically drained right now i’m losing my mind (╥﹏╥))
luna my love hiii !!! you ask and you shall receive. in a very good mood rn so you get both hehe :3 i rlly hope this makes you feel better and pls get some rest n give yourself a break darling <3
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ZAYNE is quick to notice when you're about to crash. you become irritable, a lot more emotional, yet at the same time you become meek and quiet. he's aware of that voice that lingers in the back of your mind telling you that you have to do all of your work or tasks right now or else you'll disappoint everyone, but your body just can't take it. and that's okay, zayne will swoop in and save you. whether it's cooking you balanced meals to make you feel better, sitting down on the couch as you cuddle into his larger frame while your favorite sitcom's laugh track plays in the background, or it's simply doing your tasks for you-- zayne is on it. he'll even start a warm bath for you if you haven't been able to shower due to exhaustion (he doesn't judge. he knows better than anyone how low and destructive mental crashouts can be.) even if you don't have the energy to wash yourself, he'll take a rag and scrub you clean and adore you with rich oils and lotions. in all, zayne's a very good caretaker. he will catch you when you fall and nurture you back to health. whether that is physically supporting you by doing things for you, or it's a simple twenty-minute cuddle session as he gives you a pep talk-- zayne is there for all of that. "be a good girl and let me do this for you."
SYLUS is also a very attentive lover. he notices your lethargic behavior and how your rebuttals seem more annoyed rather than playful. his first instinct is to leave you alone, allow you to simmer down. however, when he notices you aren't calming down, in fact your behavior has become even worse, he's quick to help you out in any way he can. he'll cook all three meals for you, even spoon-feeding them to you while cooing at how obedient and cute you are chewing on the eggs he made this morning. when you come home from a mission and throw yourself into his arms sobbing, sylus is immediately on the defense. he wraps his arms around your form, pulling you into his lap. he wraps your favorite blanket around you while kissing your cheeks with an occasional peck on your lips. he's the type to mutter sweet words and allow you to sob into his chest. even if the words you're rambling make no sense, sylus will sit there and quietly listen. he supports you in anyway he can. whether that means taking more time in the morning to kiss and reenergize you, or sit down and help you organize your tasks, and even sit beside you on the balcony and listen to your troubles. sylus will go above and beyond to see you back on your feet, healthy and happy. "it's alright, sweetie. let it out, im here."
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© ilyhaitanii - do not repost, translate, plagiarize
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hoe4hotchner · 18 days
Text
Sweat
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Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader
Word count: 1.9k
CW: 18+, this is a clean version of smut if that makes sense, shower sex is implied, piv implied, basically just very sensual filth with very little plot, kisses and loads of them.
A/N: I'm sorry to everyone who needs serious help after this one. I made myself cry and it's not even sad.
Send requests here
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The case, one of the most taxing they had faced in months, had left Aaron on edge, his nerves frayed like the ends of a rope that had been pulled too tight for way too long. The kind of day that wore on him, physically and emotionally, draining his reserves until all he craved was the silence of your touch, your presence - a reminder that there was more to his life than the darkness that often threatened to swallow him after cases like these.
The two of you hadn’t spoken much since he returned home, just a few quiet exchanges over dinner, which you had prepared while he showered the day off of him. Aaron was a man of few words when he was exhausted, and tonight was no different. His silence was not a sign of distance, but rather a deep trust that you understood him without the need for conversation. The intimacy between you was built on more than just words - it was in the glances, the touches, the way you moved around each other with an unspoken understanding of each other's needs. There were nights when words were unnecessary, where the silence between you was filled with a shared understanding that ran deeper than any spoken sentiment. Tonight felt like one of those nights.
As you finished cleaning up, you heard the sound of the shower turning on once again. It wasn’t unusual for Aaron to take another shower before bed, especially after days like today. But something in the air tonight felt different - charged with an electricity that buzzed beneath the surface, making your skin tingle with anticipation.
You made your way to the bathroom, the soft light from within casting a warm glow through the half-open door. Pushing it open a little wider, you were greeted by the sight of Aaron standing under the cascade of water, his hands braced against the wall, head bowed as the droplets streamed down his broad shoulders and back. His muscles, tense and rigid from the stress of today, seemed to slowly relax under the steady flow from the head on the wall. The air was thick with steam, the room a cocoon of heat that matched the intensity of emotions swirling between you.
He didn’t turn when you stepped inside, but you knew he was aware of your presence. Aaron always knew where you were, his senses finely tuned to you in a way that spoke to the depth of his feelings. There was a pull between you, a gravitational force that drew you closer until you found yourself standing at the edge of the shower, watching him, admiring him. You’d seen him like this before, stripped down to his most basic form, yet tonight, it felt as though you were seeing him anew - each ridge of muscle, every scar on his skin telling a story.
“Long day?” you asked softly, your voice almost drowned out by the sound of the water.
He nodded, the motion slow and weary. “Too long.”
You hesitated for only a moment before stepping into the shower behind him, letting the hot water envelop you in its embrace. The heat was soothing, but it was the intimacy of him that you craved more than anything else. Your hands found their way to his back, your touch light at first, tracing the lines of his shoulders, the curve of his spine. You felt him shiver under your fingertips, a barely detectable tremor that sent a charge through you.
“Let me take care of you,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. It was a promise, a plea, a declaration all wrapped into one.
He didn’t respond with words; he didn’t need to. The way he leaned back into your touch, the way his breath hitched as your hands moved lower, was answer enough. Aaron was a man who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, but here, in this moment, you were the one holding him up, anchoring him down.
You moved to stand in front of him, your eyes meeting his for the first time since you’d stepped into the shower. His gaze was intense, darkened with the heat of desire, but there was something else there too - vulnerability. The walls he kept so carefully constructed were crumbling, leaving him exposed, raw. He needed this - needed you - and that knowledge filled you with a sense of purpose, a fierce determination to give him exactly what he craved.
You reached up, cupping his face in your hands, the water mingling with the wetness on his skin. He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch, a sigh escaping his lips as you brushed your thumbs across his cheekbones. The moment was tender, intimate, but charged with an underlying tension that thrummed between you, begging to be released.
“Aaron,” you murmured, your voice a soft plea. He opened his eyes, and the intensity in them stole your breath away.
“I need you,” he said, his voice rough, barely more than a growl. There was a desperation in his tone that sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a fire within you that burned hotter than the water cascading over your bodies. There was something primal in the way he said it, a raw edge that both startled and excited you. Aaron wasn’t one to give in to his desires easily, but when he did, it was all-consuming, like he couldn’t get enough of you, no matter how close you were.
Without another word, you pulled him down to you, capturing his lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was hungry, fierce, a clash of teeth and tongues that left you both gasping for air. His hands found your hips, pulling you closer, needing to feel every inch of you pressed against him. The kiss deepened, became more frantic, as if you were both trying to erase his memories of the day, to drown out everything but the sensation of each other.
Aaron’s hands roamed over your body, his touch was reverent yet possessive, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. The steam swirled around you, the heat of the water matching the heat between your bodies as you moved together, the tension building with every brush of skin against skin.
You broke the kiss, gasping for breath, and Aaron immediately moved to press his lips to your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat. Your head fell back, a soft moan escaping your lips as his hands moved lower, gripping your thighs and lifting you effortlessly against the cool tile. The contrast of the cold tile against your back and the searing heat of his body pressed against yours sent a shock of pleasure through you.
“Aaron,” you breathed, your hands tangling in his wet hair as he continued his assault on your neck, his lips and teeth leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
“Shh,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and rough. “I’ve got you, baby.”
The nickname sent a wave of heat through you, the intimacy of it grounding you even as your body threatened to float away on a wave of sensation. He held you steady, his hands firm on your hips, guiding you as he moved against you, each touch deliberate, controlled. There was an intensity to the way he touched you, a focus that made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in the world. His movements were measured, each stroke and caress a declaration of his control - his way of reminding you, and perhaps himself, that despite the chaos in his mind, here in this moment, you both had the power to create something beautiful, something sacred.
The water cascaded over you both, mixing with the sweat that beaded on your skin, creating a slickness that only added to the pleasure. Every movement, every touch, was magnified by the heat, the steam, the closeness of the small space. The sounds of your breathing, your moans, mingled with the rush of water, creating a symphony of sensation that drowned out everything else.
Aaron’s lips found yours again, and the kiss was slower this time, more deliberate. There was a tenderness to it, a gentleness that contrasted with the intensity of his touch. He kissed you like he was trying to memorize the taste of you, the shape of your lips, to imprint it in his memory so he could carry it with him always.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, you were both breathing heavily, your bodies trembling with the force of the connection between you. He looked at you then, his eyes searching yours, and in that moment, you saw everything he couldn’t say - his need for you, his love, his gratitude.
“I love you,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, but the sincerity in it made your heart swell with emotion.
“I love you too,” you replied, your voice just as soft, just as filled with meaning. You tugged your head under his chin and relaxed into his chest.
For a long moment, you just stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, the world outside the shower forgotten. It was just the two of you, in your little bubble of heat and steam.
Finally, Aaron lowered you back to the ground, his hands lingering on your waist as if he were reluctant to let you go. You smiled up at him, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw and lips, marveling at how someone so strong and skillful, could be so gentle with you.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” you said softly, reaching for the bottle of body wash on the shelf.
He didn’t protest, didn’t argue that he didn’t need to be taken care of. He knew better than to argue on the matter. Aaron just watched you with those intense eyes as you lathered up your hands and began to wash him, your touch gentle and soothing. It was a ritual, one that had become a way for you to show him how much you cared, how much you loved him. Every stroke of your hands, every brush of your fingertips, was a promise - a promise that you would always be there for him, that he would never have to carry his burdens alone.
Aaron closed his eyes, letting out a contented sigh as you worked the tension from his muscles, the heat of the water, and the feel of your hands on his skin working together to soothe him in a way that nothing else could. He trusted you completely, allowing himself to be vulnerable with you, in a way that he never could with anyone else. It was a privilege, one that you never took for granted.
By the time you finished, the water had started to cool, but neither of you seemed to mind. The fire between you had been banked, replaced by a warm glow of embers, of contentment that filled the space between you. You turned off the water, and Aaron immediately reached for a towel, wrapping it around you before grabbing one for himself.
You stepped out of the shower together, the air outside the stall cooler, but the warmth of the moment lingered, wrapping around you like a blanket.
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luviwon · 2 months
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random thought but imagine pillow princess reader joining the other members in teasing dom sunoo about being the sub because he's cute and adorable so once they're both all alone in his room he punished the reader by making them do all the work and not touching the reader at all🤭🙈
MY “INNOCENT” DOM || K.SN
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\\ sorry for the late reply and i deeply hope i reached your expectations, love! //
COMING BACK FOR MORE?
pairing: idol!sunoo x his girlfriend!reader
context: sunoo remains unhappy after being teased by his members. it is indeed true that he is cute and adorable, but that is not all he is about. yet when you get along with what they say, sunoo feels surprised by your words. while the members might not know what is going on in his bedroom, you knew very well he is always the one to take the lead. but this time sunoo decides to beat you at your own game and switch places. how will that go?
genre: smut!
warnings: cocky sunoo, self-pleasuring (sunoo&reader), orgasm denial, teasing, riding, sunoo refusing to touch your body,
a/n: how do we feel about this sunoo?! feedback is highly appreciated!!
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sitting on your boyfriend’s lap had never felt more comfortable. maybe it was the way his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer while he rested his chin on your shoulder, his lips brushing against your exposed neck. yet, despite the intimacy, it was purely innocent! just two love birds snuggling on the couch, enjoying some snacks before bed and sharing laughs with the other members. it was the perfect way to unwind after an exhausting day.
“the stage today was absolutely draining, i can’t wait to get into bed,” jake complained, sipping from his beer can.
“i completely get that. i just know i'll fall asleep as soon as i sit down,” sunghoon giggled, settling next to you and sunoo.
sunoo, meanwhile, didn’t say much. he was more focused on you, subtly caressing your thighs and tightening his arms around you. he had a knack for making you feel wanted, even under the watchful eyes of the other members. he was just that good at hiding his actions.
“guys, it wasn’t so bad. stop being such cry babies,” heeseung said, rolling his eyes and joining jake with the beer. but he quickly put it down with a disgusted face. “who bought this stupid brand? it literally tastes like water.”
“maybe if you came shopping with us instead of lounging around all afternoon last weekend, you’d have your overpriced beer,” jay's comment made everyone laugh, even heeseung, who lightly tapped jay on the shoulder.
bags of crisps littered the table, along with numerous opened cans, alcohol bottles that were never emptied, ramyeon, sushi, fast food, and pizza. the living room was a mess, and you feared you might end up cleaning it alone in the morning. that was the compromise: helping with the cleanup in exchange for jungwon sacrificing his room and bed for some intimacy with your boyfriend.
the same boyfriend who started to get a little impatient, pressing you down harder to make you aware of his issue. that's what happens when you sit on his lap for too long; you create problems that need addressing later. but he had to wait just a little longer.
“sunoo, you’re rather quiet tonight. are you hiding some secrets we don’t know about?” niki giggled, opening a bag of cheese puffs loudly, his favorite snack judging by the empty bags on the floor.
“nah, he just can’t wait to get up and get some princess treatment tonight,” jake laughed, winking at sunoo.
“you wish,” your boyfriend said coldly, rolling his eyes in annoyance.
“you can’t tell me you don’t get all flustered when, you know, mister innocence,” jake teased.
your boyfriend found it hard to take. he might appear soft and cute in front of the camera and sometimes with the members, but his true self came out only in private. jake didn’t know the half of it.
“let’s not tease sunoo too much,” jungwon added to maintain peace between the members, despite enjoying the drama.
but jake persisted. “make sure to get your pillows all comfy before laying down. maybe y/n will surprise you tonight considering you won’t surprise her much.”
“just say you’re jealous you can’t make your girlfriend scream as much as i make mine,” sunoo shot back.
the room erupted with a synchronized “OOOOO,” following the playful exchange between sunoo and jake. you found it amusing because it was true to some extent. despite your efforts to stay quiet, it was nearly impossible with kim sunoo. he was definitely something else.
“so cocky,” jake murmured. “are these rumors? maybe we should ask y/n for clarification.”
“me?” you were taken aback, smiling nervously. “i’ll leave it to your imagination.”
“come on, y/n, spill some hot stuff,” sunghoon urged, intrigued by the conversation.
sunoo felt offended. not by the talk about his sexual life, but by how he was perceived. innocent? submissive? a bottom? maybe it was the alcohol, but he felt upset and wanted to prove them wrong.
“although,” you broke the silence, “i can’t deny that i’d like to experience more rough stuff.”
your boyfriend couldn’t believe your words. he let out an ironic chuckle, looking at you in disbelief. did you just say that? in front of everyone? in front of him?
“what did i tell you guys,” jake laughed, leaning back on the couch and grabbing heeseung by the shoulder. “bring me another can, hyung.”
“maybe not!” jungwon smiled, standing up. “let’s wrap up for tonight and meet in the morning to clean up.”
as expected, the lovely leader saved the day, despite everyone’s annoyed sighs. one by one, the boys went to their rooms, leaving you and your boyfriend alone on the couch. you turned to face sunoo, grabbing his cheeks. “are you drunk, babe?” but instead of a response, sunoo snorted in disbelief. “you’re talking about me, miss dominant?”
you didn’t think he’d take it to heart, but he seemed quite upset. you meant to go with the vibe, but maybe that wasn’t what sunoo expected. “babeee, you didn’t take me seriously, did you?” you pushed yourself closer into his chest. “i was just kidding, you know that.”
“oh, you were kidding?” sunoo responded sarcastically. “too bad,” he added, lifting you in his arms and carrying you to his dorm, kicking the door shut with his leg. you looked into his eyes, unable to read his emotions. was he angry? annoyed? neutral? tired? you couldn’t tell as he avoided eye contact. he put you down gently on the bed before running to the bathroom for a moment.
in his absence, you contemplated whether apologizing was the best move. “sunoo-ya~,” you called out cutely, loud enough to be heard, “please don’t be upset with me, okay? i’m sorry for what i said.” you pouted, lying spread-eagle on the bed. you heard the water running, indicating your boyfriend was showering before bed.
you sighed and changed into your pjs: comfy shorts stolen from sunoo and a loose top with thin straps. with the curtains closed, you jumped back into bed, waiting impatiently for your boyfriend. the wait was worth it when the bathroom door opened, revealing a wet-haired sunoo with only a towel around his hips, water dripping down his body.
as you took in the sight of him, your heart quickened and your breath caught in your throat. his damp hair clung to his forehead in dark, glistening strands, each drop of water journeying down his sharp jawline and falling to his broad shoulders. the steam from the shower still lingered around him, creating a halo of mist that only added to his ethereal appearance. your eyes followed the rivulets of water tracing the contours of his chest and abdomen, each bead highlighting the smooth planes and subtle curves of his muscles. the way the droplets seemed to dance across his skin, catching the dim light, was mesmerizing. his usually soft and playful expression was replaced with a serene, almost vulnerable look as he met your gaze, making you feel an intense pull towards him. the sight was both intimate and tender, a moment suspended in time that made the wait feel like a fleeting second in comparison.
but sunoo seemed oblivious to your longing gaze. he nonchalantly walked across the room, rummaging through drawers for his clothes. you watched, spellbound and frustrated, as the towel around his waist clung precariously to his hips, accentuating his lean, toned body with every step he took. his movements were unhurried, almost teasing in their casualness, and the sight of his bare skin, still glistening from the shower, only intensified the magnetic pull you felt towards him.
he paused to check his phone, his back to you, completely unaware of the effect he was having on you. the muscles in his back shifted under his smooth skin as he moved, each small motion drawing your eyes and making your pulse race. you bit your lip, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks and a knot of impatience twist in your stomach. the allure of his wet skin, the way his damp hair framed his face, and the tantalizing view of his toned physique wrapped in nothing but a towel was almost too much to bear. you yearned for his attention, for him to turn around and close the distance between you.
but sunoo continued to mind his own business, oblivious or perhaps deliberately ignoring your presence. the frustration built up inside you, mingling with the undeniable attraction that made your skin tingle and your heart ache with longing.
he moved with a grace that seemed almost too effortless, each step highlighting the elegant lines of his body. the towel hung low on his hips, revealing the tantalizing curve where his waist met his abdomen, and the smooth expanse of his skin glistened with moisture, sending shivers down your spine. the faint scent of his body wash, fresh and slightly musky, wafted through the air, adding to the sensual haze that enveloped you.
you bit your lip harder, trying to contain the rush of desire that surged within you. your legs crossed instinctively, a futile attempt to quell the growing heat between them. the sight of sunoo’s bare, wet chest rising and falling with each breath, the way droplets of water clung to his skin before sliding down to be absorbed by the towel, made it nearly impossible to focus on anything else.
every movement he made seemed to be in slow motion, accentuating the sheer magnetism of his presence. his obliviousness only heightened your longing, each second of his inattention a sweet torment. you felt your resolve weakening, the desire to touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin against yours, becoming overwhelming.
unable to control yourself any longer, you found your voice, soft and breathless. “sunoo,” you called out, hoping to capture his attention, your heart pounding with both anticipation and desperation. sunoo finally turned to you, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he sauntered closer. "what's the matter?" he asked, his tone dripping with cockiness. "can't handle a little distance?" he stepped closer, his scent-fresh, musky, and intoxicating-overwhelming your senses.
"you look like you'd do anything to have me," he murmured, eyes glinting with mischief as he closed the gap between you. the warmth of his body radiated through the air, making you shiver with anticipation. his hand reached out, brushing a damp strand of hair away from your face. "is that true?" his presence was electrifying, every inch of him exuding a sense of superiority that made your heart race even faster. the teasing lilt in his voice, the way his eyes held yours with such intensity, only fueled your desire. you could barely manage to nod, your voice caught in your throat.
sunoo chuckled softly, leaning in until his lips were just a breath away from yours. "then what are you waiting for?" he whispered, the warmth of his breath sending another shiver down your spine.
"i'm right here."
as he drew back slightly, the smirk never leaving his face, his gaze turned more serious. "but just so you know," he said, voice low and steady, "from now on, i'm not going to do anything. if you want something, you'll have to take the initiative." he straightened up, his posture radiating a new level of control, making your anxiety spike. your breath hitched as you reached out tentatively, your hand trembling slightly as it touched his damp, warm chest. the muscles under your palm felt solid and inviting, and you gulped, trying to steady yourself. the contrast between his cool, moist skin and the heat of your palm intensified the charged atmosphere between you.
“you seem to be avoiding me, y/n,” sunoo murmured, leaning in close enough to whisper in your ear, causing you to shiver. “is this how you act when you’re in charge, baby?” his smirk never wavered. the towel around his hips was slipping due to his movements, revealing his lower stomach and the prominent bones of his pelvic area, which were strikingly attractive. although your hand rested on his sculpted chest, your eyes were drawn to this captivating detail.
sunoo noticed where your gaze was fixed and his smirk widened. “looks like you’re quite interested in something down there,” he teased, his voice dripping with playful confidence. he shifted slightly, making sure the towel stayed low enough to keep your attention. “can’t keep your eyes off these, huh?” his tone was both mischievous and inviting as he leaned closer, making sure you felt the full impact of his teasing.
you tried to act nonchalant, forcing yourself to look away and respond with a casual tone. “oh, really? is that what you think?” you asked, attempting to sound indifferent. but as sunoo leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear, you felt a wave of heat rush through you. his whisper was teasing yet intimate, sending shivers down your spine.
“yeah, that’s what i think,” he murmured, his voice soft but laden with a playful edge. “it’s hard not to notice how captivated you are.” his proximity made it difficult to maintain your composure. you could barely focus on your words, overwhelmed by his presence and the way he effortlessly drew your attention back to him.
he then moved smoothly toward the bed, the towel slipping even lower as he climbed onto it. with a casual flick, he brushed his blonde hair back, casting a confident look your way. his gaze was full of self-assured mischief.
you felt a deep flush spread across your face, even though he was just your boyfriend. his effortless charm and cocky demeanor left you feeling flustered and unable to maintain your cool. with a playful grin, you leaned in closer to sunoo, your heart racing with excitement. without a second thought, you hopped onto his lap, the towel him shifting slightly, revealing more of his skin. you could feel the warmth radiating from him, and as you settled against him, you felt the unmistakable evidence of his desire pressing against you.
the moment was electric, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft whimper, feeling a rush of heat pooling in your stomach. you leaned in, capturing his lips with yours in a kiss that began gently but quickly ignited into something more urgent. your mouths moved together, exploring and teasing, sending shivers down your spine.
as your hands tangled in his hair, you deepened the kiss, pouring every bit of longing into it. the taste of him was intoxicating, and the way he responded — a subtle tilt of his head, the way his hands found their way to your hips, pulling you closer — only fueled the fire between you. each brush of his lips against yours felt like a promise, an invitation to explore deeper.
you could feel the tension building, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within you. every soft gasp and muffled moan that escaped your lips seemed to urge him on, encouraging him to match your fervor. the heat radiating between you was undeniable, leaving you both breathless yet yearning for more. it was a dance of passion, raw and unfiltered, and in that moment, nothing else mattered but the connection you shared.
as the kiss grew more fervent, you felt yourself melting into him, surrendering to the bliss of the moment. the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you suspended in time, lost in a steamy embrace that felt like it could last forever. you broke the kiss reluctantly, your breath mingling in the air as you pulled away just enough to gaze into his eyes. there was a spark of mischief, a smirk playing on his lips that ignited playful within you.
slowly, you let your lips wander from his mouth, trailing soft kisses down his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath you. the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the salty tang of his skin, intoxicating and inviting. you paused to nibble lightly at the sensitive spot just below his ear, earning a low, throaty chuckle that vibrated through his chest.
your lips continued their journey, brushing tenderly against his collarbone, savoring the way he arched slightly under your touch. each kiss was deliberate, a sweet exploration as you traced the contours of his body, feeling the ripple of muscles beneath your kisses. you could hear his breath hitch as you moved lower, your lips dancing across his chest, teasingly lingering on the defined lines that begged for your attention.
“you’re driving me crazy,” he murmured, voice laced with amusement and desire, his hands still resting comfortably under his head, giving you all the freedom to explore as his towel flirted with the edge of falling away.
with a daring grin, you kissed a path down his abdomen, the heat of his body radiating against your lips. you could feel the tension coiling tighter within him, and it left you emboldened. you paused to trace your fingers along his sides, delighting in the way he squirmed just slightly, a mixture of pleasure and anticipation flickering across his face.
as you reached the waistband of his towel, you looked up at him, catching his gaze. he was watching you with a mix of challenge and longing in his eyes, that signature smirk still playing on his lips. you felt a rush of confidence wash over you, the teasing energy crackling in the air between you.
“what are you waiting for?” he quipped, his voice teasing, his smile bold.
you could feel a warm flush spreading through you, an undeniable wetness pooling at your core, evidence of just how turned on you were by his presence.
sunoo’s eyes darkened with desire, a smirk playing on his lips as he bit down on them, the action revealing the raw craving he felt. beneath the towel wrapped around him, you sensed the unmistakable outline of his arousal, pushing against the fabric
“strip for me,” he breathed, his voice low and laced with urgency. there was a thrill in his words, an unspoken promise as he leaned back slightly, clearly enjoying the show without making any move to close the distance between you. he simply watched, his gaze intense and unyielding, as the air around you thickened with desire.
without much hesitation, you moved on your knees to sit next to him. grabbing each end of the thin shirt you were wearing, you pull it up above your head, your soft breasts falling gently against your body. sitting now all exposed in front of him, your nipples hardened even more, causing you to feel your pussy getting wetter in his shorts. sunoo just gazed at you, forcing himself not to jump on you already and devour your tasty tits, hanging so prettily for him. with a small gesture, you pushed down the dark coloured shorts, revealing a sexy laced pair of panties, enough to make sunoo brush his hand over the towel to calm down his impatient cock.
getting rid of the shorts, you were now playing around with the black fabric, all damp in your wetness. “please touch me sunoo” you whined in desperation, moving closer to him as trying to persuade him with your perky tits. “i need to feel your hands all over me” you added, biting your lower lip hard to avoid letting out another frustration cry.
he just continued smirking, “what about you just touch yourself while looking at me?” he proposed, letting go of the useless towel, his hardened dick twitching in front of you. at the view of his beautiful and thick cock, you couldn’t help but brush your fingers against your panties, feeling all aroused. on the other side, sunoo palmed himself ahead of you, his slender fingers wrapping just well around his length.
spreading your legs apart, you rubbed your pussy harder through the material hiding your needy cunt. desperation called as you didn’t even take the last piece of fabric off but teased yourself even more. “isn’t it frustrating how you will not get my fingers to stretch you out tonight, baby?” sunoo licked his lips, winking at you. pulling your panties to the side, you sucked on your index and middle finger, following to softly touch your exposed clit. your cold touch make you shiver, biting your lips, trying to hide your need to let any moan out.
“you are so sensitive, my love” he whispered while continuing to stroke himself ahead of you. watching him pleasuring himself caused you to drip down on his bed, before even getting the chance to explore your own inside. you rubbed your pussy faster, spreading your legs even more as your juice kept leaving wet marks on his sheet. your folds were all opened now, your hole ready to be filled up by sunoo’s cock, but he wasn’t going to make your wish come true tonight.
“sunoo-ya,” you breathed, “please forgive me, i really need you” you confessed, your eyes half closed while staring at his thickness growing even more. your clit was in ecstasy from the hard pressed fingers, sending shivers all around your body. “if you want my cock so much then ride me” he whispered, softly touching your nipples just for a second, giving you all the left desperation your could experience.
without second thoughts, you made your way to his lap, licking your lips at the view of his prepared cock. the way it was standing before you made you tremble, touching your breast for support. impatience won as you hopped on his dick rapidly, letting the loudest moan out at the feeling of his thickness spreading your hole apart in a millisecond. sunoo groaned, holding back his pleasure sounds. you tried to take all of him inside you, yet every inch made you whine even more. how come you can never get used to his massive cock despite the forgettable number of times he fucked the shit out of you.
“take me all, love” sunoo ordered, his arms making their way back under his head. he was not going to do anything at all, but watch you get fucked so well in front of him. as you weren’t going any lower, the blonde haired guy buckled his hips up, pushing all of his cock inside of you, causing you to scream his name shortly while losing balance, palms falling on his chest, looking for some support. you gulped, stuck in that position.
you knew that the second you moved, your mouth will not be your best friend, moaning his name loud as fuck, eyes rolled back and sweating droplets already falling down your forehead. was it the excitement? or the desperation for his touch and body.
with small movement, you went up and down on his length, covering your mouth while rolling back your eyes. as you got adjusted to him again, you started jumping on his dick faster, your tits doing the same thing while sunoo was hypnotised by them. he had to still control himself, despite his own desire to touch every inch of your body, curves and wetness. “faster” he whispered, pushing his hips up again, having you moan his name loud again, loud enough for everyone else in the apartment hear, especially jake from the next door.
sunoo couldn’t help but move his hips further, taking the lead for a slight second, just to give you the moment of bliss you were yearning for. before him, you were soulless, your eyes all rolled back while trying to maintain your breath between the constant whimpering. and each time he thrusted harder into you, his name was the only clear sound in the room, between some crying and satisfaction sounds.
“please fuck me faster, sunoo, please, please” you begged in front of him, unable to even make eye contact. you were in heaven as he pushed your body down on him, forcing you to take his whole cock inside again, touching the most far spots. breathless, you tried to stop him but he only continued to thrust into you, faster and harder each time, the sound of your skin brushing into your each other being a paid actor in the room filled with moans. “i need to cum on your cock so badly baby” you confessesed, your legs trembling so much in pleasure, unable to control your body.
“too bad” sunoo said briefly, thrusting one last time inside you before moving you aside, next to him. the combination of your juice and his precum were dripping down his dick, clearly just as frustrated to ending it there. “is it nice to take control, my love?” he said ironically, leaving a short kiss on your forehead.
“sunoo,” you tried to say, yet still visibly unable to control your breath and your shaking body.
“careful with your words next time, then” he whispered one last time. “otherwise you will have to earn my cock again”
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i came so well to this
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thatfreshi · 1 year
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Can I request Astarion x reader and he drinks from u when your standing and your legs buckle and you start to collapse from the blood loss but he catches you and Carries you to your bedroll and takes care of you?
Forgive me if it's rough, still trying to figure out the speech patterns!
Recommended Song: Ivy - SALES
It usually wasn’t often that Astarion asked to feed on you. Sadly, resources have been scarce, wild animals included. Anytime Lae’zel is out scouting she tries to bring something back for him, but to no avail. Recently, he had been asking quite often, and there is always an air of guilt in his question. 
“I’m sorry to ask my love, I just worry the others will see me differently, if I were to feed on one of them.”
It’s not as if your other companions aren’t aware of his situation, or the fact that you have to satiate him every once in a while. You think he simply feels like a burden, having to ask people for the very thing that sustains him. He just feels a little less like a burden when he asks you.
“Of course dear, no need to be sorry.”
You’ve gotten used to how this goes, as you’ve been travelling together for quite some time, and you and Astarion got smitten rather quickly. He’s always quite gentle, even if it does hurt at first. Instead of sitting down however, you continue working on stitching up a piece of your sleep-wear. With powerful magic from the likes of Gale and Shadowheart, you think such minute things could be fixed easily, but alas, they still require a realistic solution.
While you’re busy putting to work the simple stitch he taught you, Astarion moves to drink, wrapping you in a warm embrace. Many would think that the act of being drained of your own blood would be, well, terrifying, but something about it is quite intimate, heartwarming even. You don’t even really think about how your veins start running cold, how you start to feel much worse than normal. Then, you’re on the ground, needle and thread along with you. 
“Darling! I apologize, I should’ve had you lie down first, I should’ve-” 
He cuts off his own words as he scrambles to think. You’re still not fully there, but you want to tell him you’re fine. Sadly, eyes can’t always tell all. Even your parasite seems too drained to connect with him. When you regain some of your senses, you see that Astarion has brought you back to your bedroll, muttering something to himself, pacing the tent.
“I could’ve waited, I would’ve been fine. I-”
He pauses, realizing you’ve started to stir.
“Tav, darling, are you alright?”
You try sitting up, and he quickly moves to support your back, wrapping his arm around you waist.
“Yeah… yeah I’m okay.”
“I apologize, I knew it was a risk to feed on you again so soon. I put you in a terrible position, asking you like that.”
You reach to put your hand over his.
“No, it’s alright. I’ve become so nonchalant about it, I should’ve been much more considerate of the circumstances.”
He’s silent, trying to find another way to blame himself. The truth is, both of you were quite tired from the recent adventuring, and weren’t thinking straight. 
“I’ll tell them all we should stay at camp for another day. Or perhaps they can journey back to the Grove and we can stay for another evening.”
You tighten your grasp on his hand until he finally make eye contact with you.
“Astarion, it’s fine, truly. I’ll be fine tomorrow, come morning.”
You smile at him, despite the nausea caught in your throat. He feels bad enough, no use in making it worse. 
“Here, come lie with me.”
You meet the ground once again, and he joins you shortly after. He still has that look, that dreary mist across his eyes. Instead of trying to tell him in words, you nestle into his side, wrapping yourself around him, a way of saying ‘I still love you, no matter what.’ He leaves a kiss on your forehead, and finally lets the tension go. You close your eyes soon after, exhausted. Astarion never tells you, but he stayed awake and by your side the entire night, unmoving, just in case.
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girlgenius1111 · 6 months
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screaming underwater
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barça x teen reader. r is dealing with mistreatment on her national team. the barça girls find out. warnings: descriptions of aforementioned mistreatment by national team.
------
The news came out of nowhere. One minute, Alexia, Pina, Patri, and Mapi were at a restaurant eating lunch, and the next, Pina was staring at her phone in horror, all the color drained out of her face. 
“Clau? What’s up?” Patri asked, catching the look on her best friend’s face. This halted the conversation between the other 2 girls, and Alexia and Mapi both turned to their younger teammate in concern. 
Claudia shook her head, remaining silent as she handed her phone to Patri, standing up and leaving the table. 
“I need some air,” she said shakily. Alexia and Mapi exchanged looks, focusing their attention back on Patri for the moment. Patri had a rather similar reaction to Pina’s, practically shoving the phone into Mapi’s hand, and taking off towards the door her best friend had left through. 
“My god. Mapi, let me see.” Alexia complained, moving over so she could read over Mapi’s shoulder. 
She read the whole article, finishing just after Mapi did. The defender was looking up at her captain, distraught. 
“Fuck.” Alexia said. “Shit. Okay. We’ll go find Clau and Patri, and then we’ll call pequeña.” 
Alexia was always a voice of reason, and Mapi nodded gratefully, rising to her feet, throwing some cash on the table, and heading out of the restaurant. 
There was no longer any question of why her teammates had reacted the way they did. The contents of that article felt eerily similar. And if they were true, they had a lot to be worried about. 
-----
You’d finished your morning training session, pulling out your phone the minute you returned to your hotel room, and saw the article. First, though, you had to scroll through the messages upon messages from your teammates expressing their concern. You didn’t spend too long reading those, knowing it would likely be too much for you right now. 
It wasn’t as bad as it could have been; there were a lot of details omitted, some of the more worrying details. Still, it was more than the people in charge would want leaked to the media, especially when it painted them as the villains. 
In short, the article detailed, via anonymous interviews with some of your teammates, the conditions that your u23 national team was under. Your coach was vile, the training staff always following his lead. There were recovery specialists that many of you guys refused to work with. The personnel themselves were an issue. More than that, though, what they did was the biggest problem. The team hadn’t been performing very well, and as a consequence, you and your teammates were being worked half to death. Running until you dropped, scrimmaging until you couldn’t feel your legs anymore. You were woken early in the morning for extra workouts, and kept up late to go over film. It was constant, exhausting, and completely demoralizing. The way you were spoken too was no better than what your body was being put through. Your coach had apparently decided that the right way to motivate the team was to rip everyone to shreds. He hurled cruel insults at you and your teammates. He didn’t just go after your playing abilities; he went after your fitness, your weight, your personal life, your personality, your appearance, your relationships within the team. There were no boundaries. There was no way to say no, no way to make it stop. 
You were determined to handle it. You didn’t know any different when it came to your national team. Granted, it had never been this bad before, not in all your time with the team. You wanted it handled internally. You saw what your Spanish teammates went through when they tried to make a change, and their suffering wasn’t something you were willing to bring upon yourself and your teammates. You guys were all young, under the age of 23. If your Spanish teammates that were full adults couldn’t do it without winning a world cup, what chance did a bunch of kids have? No one would listen, it would only make it worse. Although, somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew you were suffering far more than you would be if you refused your call up. You didn’t give up, and you didn't ask for help. You’d never had the ability to do so, always wanting to be independent. International breaks became something you dreaded deeply, and something you attended all the same. It was a stagnant, constant torture, constant weight on your shoulders. Nothing really seemed like it would cause a change. 
Until the article was published. 
You didn’t know who’d spoken to the journalist, but you didn’t fault them. Though you’d never admit it, you were secretly glad that someone had been braver than you. Still, the verbal lashing you and your teammates got later that day was borderline abusive. The following punishment was worse. Your coach led the team to the stadium, into the stands, and instructed you all to begin running the stadium steps, until he felt you’d “learned your lesson.” 
No one spoke up, no one argued. Everyone just set off with a resigned sigh. You all ran for a while. What must have been at least an hour, in the hot sun. Up and down and back up again. Until the world was spinning around you, and even though everyone asked for a water break, one was not given. You all kept going. 
You went until you dropped, literally. Until you missed a step, fell forward, and smashed your head on the seat next to you. The pain in your whole body ceased, briefly, before it erupted again in your head, and then everything went black. 
-----
At least you could leave early without seeming like a coward. No one could argue against the decision the team doctors had come to; you had a large gash on your forehead that needed stitches, a black eye, and a mild concussion. Your coach sneered at you, but dismissed you all the same, leaving you with a warning to remember to keep the team’s best interest in mind. You knew this meant that he expected you to remain silent, as you had been until this point. You planned to. What you didn’t necessarily plan for was your club teammates. You should have considered them, but you didn’t. That was your second mistake. The first was barely responding to anyone’s texts and calls after the article was published. You didn’t even tell anyone you were going home. Deciding the medical announcement from the team would be enough, you boarded your flight to Barcelona, completely ignoring the flood of messages you were receiving. 
You just wanted to go home. Lay in your bed where you were safe, and far from the people that seemed hell bent on making your life a living hell several weeks out of the year. You didn’t want to talk, you didn’t want to see anyone. You ignored the multitude of texts from Pina, Patri, Mapi, Alexia, and Marta, asking you if you needed a ride home from the airport. You Ubered home from the airport instead, barely making it through your door before you tossed your bag aside and collapsed into your bed. 
In order to avoid a break in from your teammates, you pulled your phone out before you fell asleep, opening your text thread with Alexia. 
Nena, I saw the article. Call me.
Are you okay?
Please respond, nena, we’re really worried about you.
Jona called, I heard about your injury. Are you okay?
When are you coming home?
When does your flight land?
Nena, please. Just message something to let me know you got home okay. 
You sighed. You didn’t want to talk. Talking would only make it worse, you were sure. It hadn’t been that bad, not really. It was normal, a little harsh, but the team had been playing so poorly, what did you all expect? Rationalizing it was all you could do, really. 
Hola Capi. I’m okay, I’m home now. Everything is fine, really. Don’t worry. 
Alexia responded barely a minute after you’d hit send. 
Okay, nena. If you need to talk, we’re all around for you, okay? Please, please call me if you need me, for anything. We can talk more tomorrow when you come for your medical eval. It’s at 9am and Mapi and I have media stuff then, but Pina and Patri are going to pick you up. Rest a lot, I’ll see you tomorrow. 
Even though you were comfortably curled up in bed, incredibly sleep deprived, and concussed, you couldn’t fall asleep right away. You were rather busy trying to figure out how to act tomorrow. You felt so… weighed down from everything that had happened. You looked in the mirror barely recognizing yourself, and it had nothing to do with your injuries. You didn’t feel like you. You felt like the empty version of yourself that always returned from national duty, but 10x worse. You didn’t think you could smile if you tried. Convincing your teammates that you were okay was going to take a lot of energy that you simply didn’t have. You couldn’t do it, you were too exhausted, in the very core of your being. You fell into a fitful sleep, setting your alarm for the next morning even though it was only early evening and you hadn’t eaten anything. You weren’t sure how to act, or how to play this. All you knew was that letting anyone see how badly you were hurting was not an option. 
-----
Your car ride to the Barça training grounds was painfully quiet. Pina and Patri had given up all attempts at making conversation; you’d made it clear that you didn’t want to talk. Neither of them were sure what to make of you right now. Your voice was steady, your body language rigid. You had a pair of huge sunglasses on, though, and a hood tugged up over your head. Neither of them could get a good glimpse at your face, to check on your injuries, or to see how you were really feeling. They supposed this was the point. Their worry only grew when you caught Patri’s arm before heading to the medical center. Her and Pina were headed for the locker room, but they both stopped in their tracks, looking back at you. 
You wanted to thank them. Not just for picking you up, but for bringing you coffee and a granola bar, and the comforting way they both squeezed your hand when they saw you. 
“Thanks for driving me. I really appreciate it.” You said softly. You never spoke quietly; you were incapable of doing so, normally. Today, however, both girls had to lean in to hear what you were saying. 
“Of course.” Patri replied. Your eyes fell back to the floor underneath you, and you headed off without another word, leaving two very concerned teammates in your wake. 
Patri stopped Pina just before walking into the locker room, very suddenly pulling the younger girl into a tight hug and not letting go. 
“Patri. Why are you suffocating me?” Claudia asked after a minute. 
The midfielder didn’t let up. “She’s acting like you did. After the last international break. I really don’t like it.” She explained. 
Claudia pulled away, shaking her head. She didn’t like to think about that. “I’m fine, Patri. She’ll be fine too, yeah?” 
“Hope so.” Patri said, giving her best friend a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
-----
Alexia and Mapi knew it was just as bad as they were expecting when they saw the looks on their younger teammates' faces. They’d finished media up as fast as they could, practically running to the gym where Pina and Patri were working out. 
It only took a shake of Patri’s head for both girls to whirl around, and set off for the medical center. 
You finished your eval at around the same time. The team doctors hadn’t asked too many questions. Jona had been there when you arrived, and had asked if there was anything you’d like to talk to him about. You’d shook your head, and he’d sighed, but left the room. The doctors had received the report from your national team’s staff. They knew that you’d fallen, but that was it. Nothing that accounted for the deep exhaustion that was clear across your face, or the way you barely spoke to them. They told you the same things that your national team had, giving you a rough timeline of your return. Finally, they very obviously reminded you of the club psychologist, before telling you that you were free to go. 
You were planning on waiting around somewhere secluded until Pina and Patri were done with their workout, stopping briefly to fill your water up. Your sunglasses were back on, hood pulled back up, depriving you of your peripheral vision, not to mention your rather swollen shut eye. 
When you turned, you jumped slightly, finding Mapi and Alexia standing directly behind you, arms crossed over their chests like a pair of bodyguards. If this was their goal, they had arrived late. The damage to you was already done. You weren’t sure the scars would ever fade.
Alexia stepped closer to you slowly , as if you would startle and run away from her if she moved too fast, pulling your hood down, and reaching for your sunglasses very carefully. 
“Ay dios mio” She murmured, taking your sunglasses off your face and carefully inspecting your wounds. “How did this happen?” 
Her voice was uncharacteristically shaky and full of fear, and her eyes bore into your own, a dangerous glint to them. Mapi didn’t look any different, standing next to her captain and eyeing you very carefully. 
“Fell.” You said simply. Not completely collapsing into their arms and telling them everything was much harder than you anticipated, so you stuck to one word answers for now. 
“You fell? What, off a cliff?” Mapi asked, ignoring the elbow to the ribs she received from the blonde next to her. 
You only shrugged in response, causing both girls to exchange a look. 
“Amiga, did someone do this to you? You can tell us, I promise. We will keep you safe.” Alexia promised, words she’d been rehearsing all morning. 
“No one did anything to me, I just fell.” You reiterated, and it wasn’t technically a lie. You were getting annoyed, uncharacteristically so. You didn’t want to answer these questions, and even though it was completely unfair, you were angry at Alexia. Promising to protect you now did nothing. Nothing at all. It was too late for that. You weren’t sure you’d ever feel safe again. 
“I do not believe you. You are not clumsy, you do not fall.” Mapi cut in, her words wildly more aggressive than her tone. You didn’t respond, back to staring at your feet. “The article that came out,” 
“It’s an exaggeration. Everything is fine. Nothing is wrong, everything is fine, and I just want to go home, okay?” You spit back, showing the most emotion you had all day. 
And though everything you’d said was clearly a lie, it was also clear you weren’t ready to talk. Mapi and Alexia had already decided to back off if you didn’t want to talk right now. It could wait until later, until you were somewhere you felt safe, and somewhere much more private than the hall outside Barcelona’s gym. This wasn’t the place. 
The older girls let you go with Patri and Pina, even though all of their instincts were telling them not to let you out of their sight. You were so jumpy, so obviously terrified, they couldn’t justify making you do something you didn’t want to right now.
Alexia watched you walk away with your teammates, startling slightly when she felt Mapi wrap her arms securely around the blonde. Mapi was holding tight to her best friend, and it was no secret as to why. Alexia hugged her back, just as tight. 
“She’s acting just like all the younger girls did after the Euros. It’s happening again, to her this time, and we can’t do anything to stop it.” Mapi mumbled. 
Alexia wanted to disagree, but she couldn’t. She wanted to promise Mapi that they’d fix it, but she wasn’t sure they had the power to. Watching someone you love suffer is always hard, and this was no different.  It seemed so out of their control, and it was excruciating to watch the effects of whatever happened at that national camp wreak havoc on you, and know they couldn’t stop it. 
------
The ride home was just as quiet as the ride there had been. This time, though, the girls didn’t let you go without speaking. The tension in the car had been different this time, and you knew one of them was planning to say something. You thought it would be Patri; she was one of the captains, she was older, you were closer with her. To your surprise, it was Pina that spoke up. 
Patri had just pulled into your driveway when Pina turned around, looking hesitantly at you. Maybe it was her clear anxiety that made you listen, really listen to what she had to say. 
“I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but I can tell you aren’t okay. I just wanted to say that talking about it is way less painful than keeping it all inside. Everyone wants to help you, and I know you might feel embarrassed, or like you can handle it yourself, but you shouldn’t have to. We’re all here for you, whether you want to talk, or you just need some company. Okay?” 
You could tell it had taken a lot for Pina to say all that. She didn’t talk about her experience, ever, unless it was to Mapi or Patri, and even then, she preferred to pretend it hadn’t happened. She was putting that aside for you, though, and you couldn’t ignore the significance of that. 
“Thanks Clau. Really, thank you.” You said, reaching out to squeeze her arm, before stepping out of the car. It was all you could manage right now, but you hoped it got your point across. 
It did. And even though tears welled in Claudia’s eyes on the way home, and she clung to Patri’s hand rather tightly, she was glad she’d spoken up. It was what she’d needed to hear all those months ago, and she hoped that it would make things easier for you. 
-----
You were curled up on the floor near your couch when you made the decision. Tremors were wracking your whole body, and you had been crying for so long that your chest hurt. It seemed that everything had caught up with you, but the breaking point had been the message from your national team coach, reminding you, again, to think of the team, and to stay out of the public eye until your visible injuries healed. There was no please, no thank you. It was just assumed that you’d do it. That really got you; that you’d been pliant for them for so long that they didn’t doubt that you’d go along with whatever they told you to. 
You just felt so alone, and so scared. So incredibly scared. It was this fear that had you reaching for your phone. You couldn’t do it anymore, couldn’t keep it all in. You couldn’t tell another lie, and you didn’t want to. You just wanted someone to come and tell you that everything was going to be okay. You wanted someone to protect you, in the way you should have been protected this whole time. 
There were people that you trusted to do this for you, and you’d lost all the strength to deny yourself the comfort and the care you ached for. 
The phone had barely rung once before it was picked up. 
“Nena? Are you okay?” Alexia asked softly. 
“No,” you replied, your voice barely more than a sob. 
“Oh, cariño. What can I do?” 
“Come over, please. I can’t do this alone anymore.” You gasped out, wiping harshly at the tears streaming down your face. 
“I am on my way, pequeña, okay? Just sit tight, Mapi and I will be there in a few minutes.” 
“Okay,” you said miserably. You hung up the phone, curling up against the side of the couch once again, muffling your cries in the cushions next to you. It felt like you might never stop crying. 
-----
The sight that Alexia and Mapi were met with when they walked through your front door wasn’t one they ever wanted to see again. 
You were curled in on yourself on the floor, gasping and clawing at your chest as you cried, looking so panicked, and so terrified, neither of them were very confident that they’d be able to help you. Alexia was at your side in an instant, physically pushing your coffee table out of the way so she could crouch down next to you, and pull you into her arms. 
“Okay, okay. It’s alright. You are safe, nena, I promise you.” She murmured, allowing you to hide your face in her neck. You were still trembling, still sobbing, when Mapi sat down next to the two of you, looking helplessly at her captain. 
You couldn’t speak, even though you kind of wanted to. You were so overwhelmed and so exhausted, the only thing keeping you from really dissolving into an irreversible state of panic being Alexia’s arms around you, and her and Mapi’s voices in your ear. 
They promised, over and over, that you’d be safe, that they’d keep you safe. You supposed the only way they’d be able to do this was if you told them everything. And even though it terrified you to do so, the thought of going back to camp next break like nothing had happened was paralyzing. 
You had to trust Alexia and Mapi. You didn’t think you’d be able to keep going if you didn’t trust them, if you didn’t let them in. You resolved to talk, to be honest, as soon as you were able. As soon as you stopped crying. You weren’t sure when that would be, honestly, because it didn’t seem like you were calming down at all. For now, you gripped Mapi’s hand, focused on the feeling of Alexia’s hand on your back, and willed yourself to be calm. They had you. They’d keep you safe. 
----- 
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Text
Wicked Games 11
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Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Steve Rogers
Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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The glut of tears drains you until you’re forced to sleep. You do so heavily. Your head thrums even through your unconscious and you wake up in no better condition than you dozed off. 
You stay as you are, curled up on one side, and arm clutched the edge of the bed, refusing to acknowledge him. That won’t last. You look around the room that takes you back to that first morning after. A similar disorienting waves washes over you. 
You feel the change. Maybe now that you know the reason why, the symptoms only seem more intense. Your stomach is hollow but uneasy and you’re achy to the bones. And the fatigue. You can’t shake it. You feel like you could sleep for days and still be tired. 
Cautiously, you roll onto your back. You’re alone. He’s not in the bed but he’s there. The muffled clink of dishes assures you of that. You flinch as your heart gives a start. 
You sit up but refuse to get up. Standing up and walking out that door means this is real. It means you have to accept that it is and you’re not stupid enough to believe that won’t happen. You just need this moment to think. 
Barrett is dead. Your old life is over. Your job, your apartment, even your old body. Steve laid it all out. You’re going to quit or he’s going to get you fired. You’re going to have his baby or he’ll... you don’t know? Would he do the same thing he did to your husband? If you don’t have a reason for him to keep you alive, are you just expendable? 
You should be braver. You shouldn’t care. The grief is so gray but gripping that you should want it to be over. Who cares, I’d rather die than live like this. But that’s not true. The thought of death makes you nauseous. Or is that the baby? 
You lurch up to your feet and cup your hand over your mouth as you stagger around. You blink and find your way to the ensuite bathroom. You curl over the toilet and hurl into the bowl. You grip the edge of the counter and the seat as your body racks violently. 
Your stomach keeps squeezing even as there’s nothing left. Your bones feel like they could snap and your throat burns with acid. You collapse to your knees and hug the porcelain. Every now and them, you wretch but can’t even spit up bile. 
Exhausted and panting, you reach to flush, but stay hovering over the toilet water. This is horrible. Like any woman, you’ve heard of the horrors of morning sickness but this seems so much worse. 
“Sweetheart,” Steve’s shadow appears in the doorway. You sigh and turn your head to see him. He marches across the tile and comes to bend over you. You flinch as he rubs your back. “You okay? Rough morning , huh?” 
You grumble. That’s all you can do. Worse than being in this place that isn’t your own, your body doesn’t feel like yours. It’s as if every part of you is revolting. 
“Here,” he hooks his arm around you and stands you up. 
Your legs are weak as you lean on him. He flips down the toilet lid and sits you on it. You groan and hug your stomach. He draws away to open the cabinet behind the mirror. He takes out a packaged toothbrush and unwraps it. He puts toothpaste on the bristles and hands it to you. You accept it as he fills a white plastic cup with water and slides it across the counter. 
You scrape out the taste of vomit and brush your teeth until your headache is a siren. You stand to rinse and he takes the brush back, placing it in the holder next to his. He coos as he touches your hip and urges you out of the bathroom ahead of him. 
“Come on, I got everything ready for you,” he declares proudly. 
You bristle in wait of the true him. Those tones he growled through last night. That dangerous timbre you can’t argue with. This feels like a facade. Too soft, to nice. He’s playing out some script and you never got a copy. 
The couch has extra pillows and the coffee table has a small lap desk stood on it, a bowl of oat meals and a cup of layered yogurt and fruit, alongside a tall glass of a vibrant smoothie. He points you to sit and you do so only to make your body stop screaming. 
As you get settled, he moves the lap desk over you. 
“At least you’re small enough to use this still,” he chuckles as he stands back. “Oats with cinnamon and blueberries, yogurt with strawberry and chia seed, and a smoothie with lots of extra vitamins. Oh--” he storms away, leaving your speechless. Well, what can you say? 
“Supplements,” he sweeps back in. “The iron won’t help your stomach but the B-6 should. You can try ginger with tea if you still feel off. We’ll hold off asking the doc for medicine but we’ll make sure he gives you the once over.” 
“I already went to a doctor--” 
“My doctor,” he insists as he sets down the little tray of vitamins. “He knows what to watch for.” 
“What to watch for? What--” You wince as your hips pang and your stomach churns again. You tuck your hand down over your middle and force out a breath. 
“Well, I have enhanced biology. When they created the serum, we were at war. They never tested it on pregnant women,” Steve explains. 
“Huh? Serum?” You stammer. 
“The fetus.” He sits lightly beside you and reaches to rub your shoulder. “They assume there would be some effect.” 
“They assume?” You shake your head. 
“Don’t worry, you only have to deal with Bruce. He’s a good guy.” Steve explains. 
You look down at the food. Your nausea blows away like shifting winds and a storm of hunger rises in you. It’s so overwhelming you have the urge to grab the bowl of oatmeal and gulp it down from the brim. Instead, you take the spoon and raise it shakily. 
“We’re gonna do this together,” he coaxes as he caresses your arm. “Sweetheart, I couldn’t ask for anyone stronger to carry my child.” 
That should make you sick but the hunger is too much to ignore. He keeps touching you as you eat. You're so intoxicated by each bite, you hardly notice. More, more, more. Your stomach mulches greedily with each swallow as the world narrows simply to the smell of cinnamon and tartness of blueberries. 
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