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#Compulsive disarray
hxzxrdous · 9 months
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The School for Good and Evil
Platonic Lady Lesso x Never!reader
TW: Anxiety attack, skin picking, OCD
Note: This one is for me, because I suffer from anxiety and a skin picking disorder. Also stream Hold My Hand by Lady Gaga, tee hee !! </33
HOLD MY HAND
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You woke up drenched in sweat, the lingering scent of copper from your nightmares permeating the air around your bed. The aged wooden frame creaked as you sat up, your feet hovering above the cold stone floor. Casting a gaze around the dormitory, a realization struck you like a lightning bolt - you had unknowingly slept over your first-class History of Villainy. The mere thought of entering the classroom with all eyes fixed upon you filled you with overwhelming anxiety. The prospect was too dreadful, too mortifying.
Frustration etched across your face, and in a moment of despair, you began absentmindedly picking at your skin, as if trying to alleviate the tension. With a heavy sigh, you realized the state of disarray you had left your hair in. There was no way you could attend class in such a disheveled state. Not like that. You knew that the dean's Doom Room was awaiting for you which made you anxious even more. The possibilities of what she would do to you for skipping class.
Retreating to the bed, you pulled your legs back up and crossed them, continuing to mindlessly pick at your skin. Suddenly, a knock interrupted the silence, causing your head to snap toward the door.
"Y/L/N," Lady Lesso's voice echoed sternly. A lump formed in your throat as you tried to muster a response, but nothing came out. Lowering your gaze, you averted your eyes to the ground, ignoring her calling for you. Growing impatient with your silence, Lady Lesso forcefully swung open the door with her cane, the clicking of her heels drawing nearer and nearer, still unable to meet her piercing stare. That was it. You were convinced you were about to get killed.
"M-ma'am, I-," you whispered, your voice barely audible, while nervously scratching your scalp.
"Speak," the redhead commanded, her arms folded on her hips, her cane firmly in hand. "You got something to say, say it." She spat out.
"I... I can't stop picking at my skin," you replied softly, frustration evident as you ran your fingers through your hair.
Concern flickered across the dean's face as she noticed the wounds on your scalp. "Y/L/N, why do you engage in this behavior? Is there a particular reason behind it?" Her head tilted slightly as she studied you intently.
"I dunno- I get a feeling like I have to smooth out my skin by picking it- C-can't stop," you confessed, your quiet voice barely heard.
"What do you mean by 'a feeling'? Is it akin to an itch or a compulsive urge?" Lady Lesso inquired, her gaze unwavering. "As if you simply have to do it regardless of the consequences?"
"Yes... like a compulsion," you murmured, scratching your scalp in frustration. "Please... I need help."
"I will do my best to help you, but you must also be willing to put in effort, Y/N," the dean stated firmly, crossing her arms. "Now, do you believe you can resist the urge to pick your skin, or is it more of a coping mechanism, a way for you to regain a sense of control?"
You shrugged your shoulders, contemplating the question. "The second one," you replied. "It somehow calms me down, even though I always regret it afterwards." You gestured toward your messy scalp. "It's not about the pain, but like self-soothing, I guess," you tried explaining.
"Alright, I am here to help you," Lady Lesso's voice softened as she moved closer, kneeling in front of you. "Can I hold your hands?"
Sniffling, you glanced at the dean, a hint of confusion in your eyes. However, you extended your hands towards her, allowing her to take hold of them.
"I... I want to do it again so badly..." you cried out, tears welling in your eyes.
"Please don't. It will only cause you harm, and I don't want to see you hurt," the dean implored firmly, holding your hands tightly in hers. "Just take a deep breath and focus on your breath. Can you feel the warmth of my hand? Is it helping you stay calm?"
"I... I guess," you nodded, trying to focus on the sensation of the dean's hands. Your trembling persisted as you fought against the urge to retract your hands and resume your destructive habit.
"Breathe. You're okay," Lady Lesso reassured you, gently stroking your hands with her thumbs, doing what she could do to get you to relax and prevent any further picking. "You are safe here, Y/N. I won't allow anyone to harm you. I promise, you're safe."
"I just... I want to smooth it out," you whimpered, shaking your head in frustration, still holding onto the woman's hands tightly.
"It's alright. We'll work through this together," Lady Lesso spoke softly, her voice brimming with empathy. "I want to help you overcome this, and you're a strong person, I know you can do it. If you start to panic, just remember you are safe here and no one can hurt you, okay?" She continued to gently stroke your hands.
"'S hard... So hard... Wanna do it-" you started trembling even more, Lady Lesso's grip on your hands tightened.
"No, you musn't." the dean's voice grew stern as she held your hands with one hand and lifted your chin with the other. "Look at me, Y/N. Look into my eyes." You locked eyes with Lady Lesso, her unwavering gaze filled with determination and belief. "You are stronger than this, you are beautiful. I know you're trying SO hard not to do it, but you are stronger than you know. I believe in you."
"I... I can't breathe," you mumbled, your words strained as your breathing became rapid and shallow. Your cheeks flushed with heat, visibly turning red, as your breathing quickened.
"Slow down, you're breathing too quickly," Lady Lesso gently picked you up and settled you on her lap, her voice a blend of firmness and tenderness, laced with concern and reassurance. "Take slow, deep breaths. Can you do that for me?" You nodded, attempting to mimic the woman's breathing pattern. "Nice and slow, Y/N. Inhale... and exhale."
"I... I'm trying, ma'am," you managed to utter between breaths, your palms becoming increasingly clammy to the touch.
"Keep trying, I've got you, little one," Lady Lesso cooed, cradling you in her arms as if you were a small child, offering comfort despite your teenage years. "Your breathing is improving. Keep it up for me, just a little longer," she soothed, gently stroking your hair. "You're going to be alright, Y/N. Remember, you are safe here."
"I'm... I'm sorry... I didn't mean to," you attempted to pull away, but Lady Lesso held you closer, refusing to let you go.
"Y/N, there's no need to apologize. You haven't done anything wrong," she whispered, continuing to rock you back and forth. "I'm not angry with you, I promise. Not at all." Her voice radiated understanding and love, ensuring that you knew you were safe and accepted. The warmth from her touch spread through your body as she tenderly stroked your hair.
"I'm... I'm so tired," you murmured, your body growing limp as you nestled into the dean's embrace, your eyes fluttering shut.
The redhead sighed softly, continuing to sway you gently. "Rest now, my dear," Lady Lesso spoke softly. "You've done well. I'm proud of you." She placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head. "We'll talk more when you've had a chance to relax, alright?"
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kazoolapow · 10 months
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Dark they were, Golden Eyes. part 1
pairing : vampire! Azula x f! reader word count : 2.7k warning(s) : azula being a vampire should be a red alert on it's own. and oh my god, she's gæ. summary : you are a journalist that's struggling to keep your self-employed job running. you specialized in vampire research. Sokka, your partner in crime, forced you to tag along with him for the richest family's party, The Azulon Family (just pretend their last name is Azulon). your mission is to befriended a rich person to support your business. But everything you planned changed when she approached you... A/N : it's my first fic that i humbly share to the world. because it has taken over every waking moment of my life. there will be a few parts to this. i hope y'all enjoy it!
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Have you ever feel trapped? No idea which way to go. Whichever paths you choose, you lose? Within your mind, you could have sworn that you had tried every way, anything—no matter how small it is, yet the results countered back your hard work? If yes, then hi, I feel you, I see you. Life is a funny thing. No one said life is fair. But no one warned it hurts like a bitch.
Yes, life sucks. It can go to hell, for all I care, in which I'm unaware of how that concept works. Life going to hell. But that's not enough to convinced me ending mine and actually go enter the place. Hell is a friendly concept I've accustomed with, even befriended with. I spent my whole spirit of being to research this creature from hell. A creature from it lurked around my innocent city.
From what I believed, it tore down and melt the innocence as slowly it replaced by gruesome, wicked, egoistical philosophy that pathetically most people worship. A creature so acute, people started to be indifferent by the sight of it's true evilness. To them, it brighten their minds with new ways of thinking, just enough light to blind them with much ignorance to the nature of this mass of a scam. An intellectual vampire laid out their plans with the outmost care that the facade is as good as it is true. As most people followed the philosophy from an unknown author, a follower with no clue to who.
And so, my pathetic life is on the line to, at least, try to wake people up. I wanted to help. Eradicate this unnecessary pile of evil that no one asked for. The world's already disarray as it already is, it always were. But a place has it's limited space, this newfound philosophy is just none other like an ugly Christmas sweater, you wore it once and for the rest of your time it should be ignored and unbothered.
Of course, what's life without it's injustice. My research is on the brink of collapse. A Jenga wobbly piece, tempted to be pulled by gravity in any moment. If that vampire played their game right, they might just won and left my Jenga to take a dive.
"Hey, Long Face." My thoughts halt, adjusting my blurred vision to his waving hand. "There's no turning back now." Sokka eyed my face, as if he just heard my thoughts narrating.
"I know." I say flatly. My head feels heavier from waking up to reality, I'd rather to be drowned by my flowing thoughts until the time of a big event is five minutes away. The intrusion from Sokka, sadly, set the train of thoughts into the distance, a distance I could not reach. Irritated, I turned to him with his compulsive to take off his suit that he said was torturous. "Ugh," I sighed. "Why do we have to do this again? Just the both of us?"
"Shush. You complained like an annoying walkie talkie."
"But we could get some help! From your sister, Katara would—"
"Listen," He points a finger, uncaring to let me finish my sentence. "Katara is growing a family with Aang. Children, my friend, children. We cannot bother them with this anymore." I frowned. Slumping my tensed shoulders down with a defeat. "You talk big about growing a family. What about Suki?" I probed. He stopped his movements to process what I said. "Aren't you supposed to plan something for her?"
He lets out a dramatic sigh. "You doubt me? Even the slightest bit, teeny tiny bit, as thin as a paper? You wound me, Y/N." His expressions animated with over-exaggerated pout, big doed eyes, and hands covered his face. I narrowed, not taking his hints to break a smile to his magnificent acting. It's quite pitying. He dropped the act to convert to a new emotion. "Of course I do! I'll have that ring slipped to her finger in no time. But just—let her focus on her study, okay?"
I hummed. Everyone is taken to a commitment for the love of their life. A ceremony where exchanging vows and complicated administration work that will lead to their new chapter. Then what's the empty promises that friends made, the ‘I'll always be there for you’. Is that just empty words? Because legally, people are devoted to tie their ropes of responsibility and loyalty to their chosen partner. Love is a funny thing. Like a cake divided up, but one slice have a slight bigger size compared to the others.
"Hey." He called. "It's for your cause, too. If I leave you as a married man, then who's gonna help you do all the dirty work without all the money?"
He spat. He spat the fact that shuddered every living nerves inside of me. I had no fear of working alone. I fear of losing support from like-minded people like him, I fear their trust in what I do will evaporate to thin air. Hope would be all gone within me. I keep digging up the seeds that I sow yet nothing I plant will ever truly grow. I sighed, massaging my tensed temple due to overheating use of brain power. "You're right." I say in defeat.
"Alright then, Frowny Face. We're going to nail this." He took a hold of my shoulders. "I got your back." An instant smile turned my frowned lips upside down.
"Now, listen up. Here's the plan. A bunch of aristocrats will be cramped together for three hours in this party. The main goal is to win a heart of a loaded aristocrat enough to support your work with their innumerable amount of cash. If you're fortunate, then two or more would be nice. But if you're lucky—The Big Jackpot would be to get close to The Azulon Family. At least, one member of the family. Since individually, they have huge, gigantic, loading to erupt of a volcano of a money," He gestured explosion, arms stretched open wide to reveal his "boom" voice more audible.
"But," he added, composing himself again. "Never ever, ever be a kilometer close with the daughter." His lips thinned.
"Azula?" I tried, remembering the family's name one by one.
He nodded slowly. "That woman is impossible to win over. She's ruthless. A great liar and just an absolute sinister. God knows what will happen if we ever partnered with her, we'd be good as a stray cat."
"Why's that?"
"In what mad Jasmine Dragon Tea you've been into? Have you not hear the news?"
I shrugged. "I don't follow politics." Politics is where the philosophy was planted it's root deep. While it may be a main cause on my research to the vampire, it's too much havoc for me to handle. I cut to the chase to the planter instead.
He groaned. "It's a long story. This one thing you should keep in mind. Do not go near her. Understand?" He stare deep to me, waiting for my reply. "Yes, sir."
———
"Act natural." He lowered down to my ear. What's does natural even mean in this cramped up party with full of devious people? "What does it even mean? People like us may have different definition of natural from people like them." I scoffed, earning a glare under his party mask.
"Don't you dare being a partypooper now. If you observe anything from my acting, you would've been so wise." He offered his arm for me to take. Hesitating, I took it as we walk towards the big door that hid the party I dread for. "The Azulon will be dressed in red today." He informed before the doors were being opened by a footman.
As soon as the door was opened for us, my senses immediately struck in awe. Everybody was going out. What's with these doors being opened, and the descent and the start? It seemed as if the whole town were embarking in little boats come ashore to the bank, tossing on the waters, as if the whole place were floating off in carnival. And golden as it was the room shine so bright. The pillars even pronounced itself with detailed, complicated carvings. And there was a sense of midges round the arc lamps. It was so hot that people stood about talking, anonymously, veiling their identity under their elegant party mask. Even when you are the center of attention, you're still a nobody.
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I let Sokka guide me to whatever group of people, he didn't care what kind, but only with money in mind. He sparks almost anyone with laughter. Some give him queer looks, mostly from the timid attached with their stuck up personality. From there, I work my way up to try talking to the timid. They are collected, cold in their reactions and firm on their judgement. If the topic is mainly about them though, they'll warm up to you. Treat them special, like interviewing the star of the show.
After a while, I grow sloppy in my choice of words. I slurred and basically parrot what the other person said without adding any spice that would trigger an interest. "Hey." Sokka called, a hint of excitement in his voice. "I spot the son of Azulon. I think I can convince him. Should we go?" He's not asking me, he insisting me as he dragged me to Zuko. "Sokka, please. I need to catch a breather, just a moment, please?" I begged, resisting his pull to the red suited tall man and the crowd surrounding him. He sighed, letting his arm slide from mine. "Alright, you stay here. I'll go get the boy's pocket money."
"But—" He shushed me before I could protest. "I'll do the dirty work, remember?" He patted my cheeks and send me a reassuring smile. I shooed his hands away. "Then what am I going to do?" He shrugged, taking a glass as the waiter was passing by. "You could charm Ursa Azulon. She's an easy one. She's a sweetheart, like you. You two will hit it off." I narrowed, is he being serious? "Then why didn't we start on her, for the last goddamn hour that was wasted?" He held his hands up. "Networking." He said innocently. "But now, I got a boy to catch, Y/N. See ya."
I huffed, letting my hands hang mid air as I watch Sokka dance his way to Zuko. I shook my head and walk ahead without any destination in mind. Would an unaccompanied woman, strolling along like a lost puppy catch any attention? I feel like a child that's hungry of attention in telling their craves with telltale signs and persuasive hints. I try to turn my attention to the room. To the people in their heavenly dresses. To the roar of chats and erupt of laughter here and there. To the chandelier that float with dignity.
Nothing was interesting anymore to hawk. The all the same visual impressions becoming dull after half an hour. My idleness has failed me now, as if the eye were a cup that overflowed and let the rest run down it's china walls unrecorded. It's now or never. It’s now or my work will drown forever. My brain must wake now. My body must contract now. My soul must brave itself to endure.
"Hey. There you are." A cool, feminine voice sighed. Her arm tangled mine without warning. She and her all-black-themed dress bounced as she pivoted back to a disheveled man, panting for air and pouring sweats. "I'm sorry, dear. I'm afraid I'm already taken by this girl right here." And that was the moment, when my prayers was heard. A roleplay to save a fellow woman from a persistent man.
"Dear," I turned to her. "Who was this man again?"
The lady in black blinked twice. Her head tilting up to match the mischievous quirk of her lips. "Oh, he's a friend from work. Quite drunk here, my dear." She leaned in closer, invading my personal space. I respond. "It's a pity," with cracks in my voice that fail to hide my trembling being. I took a moment to muster up courage and say, "You heard the lady, young man. Let go of her."
He lowered his head, gloom soon color his pale skin. "I hope you got demolished by the vampire." His spirit went away as he wandered off, dragging his dejected body. Whoa, he dropped the V-bomb. What did she do to make him burdened with such agony?
I heard her exhale heavily. She took away her arm and keep it to her side, she turned to me with a beaming smile. "Not bad."
I returned the same smile. "Thank you."
Her dark hair spilled over both of her shoulders fairly, straight and voluminous. Her skin is fair and warm to my freezing body. Her eyes were glittering golden rays of the sun, that—I just noticed—it dragged slowly down my body in a leisurely appraisal, lingering in ways that left me light-headed.
"Anything—any explosion or any horror is better than a pretty lady like you wandering aimlessly." She said, her perfect white teeth sank into the plush swell of her bottom lip. I blinked dumbly, red rising up to my face. Her eyes flitting upward, in which I could guess crinkling softly at the corners.
"Uhm, yeah." I stuttered, unsure what to respond to that. "I was on the mood to just observe." I played the top button of my dress and try not to squirm under the mysterious woman's hot, heavy-lidded stare. "Oh," I started. "I didn't catch your name."
One of her arched brows rose. "I didn't throw it." The corner of her mouth rising, devilishly. A hot rush of blood raced to fill my face, leaving the blood on my brain completely dry. A laugh from her made my heart rise into my throat. "Well, what's the name of my hero, tonight?" Her lips quirked, deriving perverse pleasure in my growing flustered manner.
"Y/N."
"Y/N. My hero." My name runs through her mouth, rolled by her tongue, it scattered butterflies everywhere down there. She started to look around, circled a little with her swaying hips, satin skimming the skin of her thigh with each languid step in a direction towards a waiter. She took two glasses of champagne and stopped ahead from me, handing me a glass. "To you, Y/N."
"I don't drink." I send her an apologetic smile, waving off the glass to deny. "Come on, now. Let loose a little." She pressed, forcing my hand to accept the glass. "Please. For me?" She stared up at me with pleading eyes.
I sighed, who would say no to that eyes? "Alright," I hold the glass, brushing against her delicate fingers. "I'm warning you. If I'm drunk, It'll be all your fault. And who knows what will I do." I raised my glass to the air as she clinked it with hers. She gulped down the liquid like it was water while I'm wincing as I took a sip. "I'd take the blame as far to take you home," she smothered a sly smile. "If you're willing."
My breath hitched, almost chocking on my drink. "You don't have to go that far," I cleared my throat. "Yet."
She cocked a brow, satisfied with my reply as she rasped out a laugh. I continued and change that topic for future me to worry about. "What's your name, really?"
"Lady." She said almost immediately.
I arched a brow, "Lady...?" I trailed off, hoping for her to fill in the blanks. "Just call me Lady."
"That's not your real name, is it?"
She shook her head, a smirk lingers on her lips. "At a party like this?" She chuckled as if laughing at my own stupidity. "You're kidding." I said. My fingers twitched, anxiety crept gradually to my sickening stomach.
"A crying shame I didn't pursue a career as a stand-up comedian." She sighed. And I'd like to excuse myself from her, for a moment, the urge to smack my head off against a wall for slipping my real name without more careful consideration is highly tempting to do. "A party like this hardly ever contain originality, dear Y/N."
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loki-cees-all · 10 months
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The Little Things Give You Away Masterlist {Post!TVA Loki x OFC Longfic}
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Cee's Loki Fic Masterlist / A03 Link
Series Summary : It’s just a compulsion to steal the TemPad, and it’s just a habit to flee. The timelines have split, the TVA is in disarray, the threat of He Who Remains is insurmountable - and Loki is just so done with it all.
But it isn’t until Loki gives up that he manages to find everything he’s ever wanted. 
Pairing : Post-TVA!Loki x Olivette (OFC)
Tags / Content : Canon Divergence - Post Loki (Season 1), Forced Proximity, Uneasy Allies, Strangers to Lovers, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Idiots in Love, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut
18+ only - Minors DNI
⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰
Prologue - Take This All Away - posted May 28th, 2023
Chapter 1 - And the Silence Splits Me Open - posted October 8th, 2023
Chapter 2 - A Little Bit of Loneliness, A Little Bit of Disregard - posted October 15th, 2023
Chapter 3 - Then With the Eyes Shut - posted October 29th, 2023
Chapter 4 - Looking Through the Rust and Rotten Dust - posted November 14th, 2023
Chapter 5 - These Wounds, They Will Not Heal - posted December 22nd, 2023
Chapter 6 - The Eyes Ease Open, and It's Dark Again - posted January 13th, 2024
Chapter 7 - All the Tiring Time Between - coming March 2nd, 2024
⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰
Click here to be added to my Loki fic tag list! 💚
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darqchilddaydreamz · 1 year
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31 DecemberDaydreamz
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18+ ONLY BLOG 🚩 MINORS GO AWAY 🚩
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
#15 - "No Wingman"
Juice came in to Clear Passages with Tig late one afternoon to pick up a little inventory for himself. The slight disarray of the product shelves caught his attention and he gave in to his compulsion, hanging his cut on a chair back to stay and tidy up a bit. With Tig protesting loudly from the back, Juice went up front greeting the employee working the register and eyeballing the merchandise displays for a place to start.
As he began to straighten them and fill in the lacking areas with more product, a sleek black on black van pulled up to the curb with its music at an obnoxious volume and a mixed bag of young people climbed out. With it being less than 15 minutes till closing, he hoped they’d find what they needed and leave quickly. There were two girls in the pack and one of them, thin and spray tanned within an inch of her life, giggled wildly at whatever the tall blonde guy was saying. But the other girl - her smooth, brown, toned legs on full display in tiny cut off shorts, hung back a little bringing up the rear when they all tumbled in.
Listening to the four guys debating on which one of them was going to be paying for the purchase put Juice on alert. He hoped they wouldn’t be stupid enough to try to grab and dash from a SONs affiliated business but he couldn’t be certain, so he stopped restocking and stayed up front to keep his eye on them. Once their little squabble was settled he felt comfortable enough to get back to work while they shopped.
His eyes settled on the girl with the legs leaning on the counter. She didn’t move as he arranged the edibles behind her. “Need help finding something?”
She looked over her shoulder at Juice with a quick smile, “Naw. Just waitin’ on these guys. I don’t blaze. No offense.”
Heart shaped face, big brown eyes, hella pretty smile, he thought. “None taken.”
From what Juice could gather she was definitely bored, leaning on her elbows with her back to the glass display case. Seeing his glance at her elbows and stood up straight, “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Juice huffed out a breath with a little smile, meeting her eyes briefly, “You’re too little to hurt that glass anyway.”
“Waaaaoooow,” she chuckled, shaking her head. “Thanks a lot. Your customer service is excellent.”
Correction, Juice checked himself, fucking fantastic smile. Her lips were mesmerizing. She had done them in a blend of pink and purple and they shimmered when she talked. He didn’t even bother with trying not to stare at them for a moment longer. With slightly raised eyebrows, she faced him - keeping her eyes on his face while he looked her over. Killer legs in blue jean cut offs, pink tank top loose but not exactly hiding the tight figure underneath, her grey cardigan hung off of her shoulder giving him a peek at the lettering tattooed on her bicep but not enough to know what it said. Her dark hair, wild curls pulled into a rough, make-shift top-bun had loose coils sticking out all over the place. On someone else it would look unkempt but on her it looked pulled together.
There’s no way one of these assholes was lucky enough to have scooped her up, he thought. Juice leaned on the counter losing his customer service voice and lowering to a deeper tone, a more intimate volume. “So which one do you belong to?”
“EW!” She laughed looking at the cluster of guys she came in with. Scrunching her nose, she cut her eyes at him, emphasizing his choice of words, “I don't 'belong to' anybody.” 
Juice raised his hands in apology, his smile slightly embarrassed at the faux pas but more happy that she was unattached. 
“Ya know since that whole slavery thing, we kinda don’t play about that property bullshit.” Her smirk spread into a grin. 
Juice ducked his head laughing, his Adam’s apple bobbing. The slow reappearance of his face, sparking eyes, high cheeks, and gorgeous smile flipped her stomach. No man's laugh should look that beautiful.
When he raised his eyes again, he saw the change in hers.
“I just felt like riding, ya know?” She closed her eyes for half a second like she was feeling it right then. “Hanging out a window, feeling some wind. It’s all twisty roads to get here from Lodi…the breeze just feels good.”
“I can get that.” You’re gonna love being on the back of my bike. “Lodi, huh?”
“Yeah.” For a second she seemed to hesitate then blurted, “You been workin’ here long? I mean I've only been here a couple of times before but I know I didn’t see you.”
Juice smiled, liking what her words were implying. He didn’t tell people, especially people he didn’t know about his stake in the shop so, “No,” was all he said.
“Hey, Max! You ready?”
Both of them looked toward the overly loud voice. Her friends stood crowded at the door, ready to go. Neither Juice or her had noticed that they had finished and were checked out. 
“Just a sec,” she said, her eyes already back on Juice. 
“You going back to Lodi tonight…Max?”
She smiled at him picking up on her name. “Yeah. Right now.” Still she didn’t move a single step away from the counter.
Or you could stay. Juice wanted to see her again. “Let me get your number.”
Her smile told him he did the right thing. He handed her a business card from beside the register and a pen. Finished she held the card up but didn’t hand it over, “So who am I giving my number to?”
Juice had been looking at her lips every time she spoke and this time she licked them. His stomach tightened in response and she smirked knowing he was as affected as she was.
“Juice.”
She let him take the card from her. Her lips curled up into another tiny smirky smile. “Okay.”  
Turning around she realized her friends had gone outside and the guy at the register has abandoned the front area altogether. At the door she turned around, the sly look on her face was giving him every green light imaginable. “Don’t lose that…Juice.”
Her boldness was stripped away instantly when he hopped over the counter. Her eyes grew wide as he walked up to her. Not stopping until there were just a few inches between them. “I won’t.”
She stood still, looking up at him with those dark eyes. He stood there trying to decide just how far to take this game of chicken, his fingertips eventually brushing hers. Nervously, tongue flicked across her bottom lip. Juice decided to take it as an invitation.
“You promise?” her voice was toned down to a murmur.
His came out on a breath, “Yeah.”
The loud honk from outside moved him into action. Cupping her jaw, he drew her up to meet his lips. She didn’t even hesitate, leaning up into him, letting him take what he wanted. Opening her mouth more for his tongue to dance with hers. Juice kept closing off the kiss, only to turn his head into a new slant and start again. She was melting as his hands left their starting place and began to wander up and down her sides, gripping the back of her neck, sliding over her hips to cup and squeeze her butt lightly. She stroked her fingertips over the back of his neck, gripping the hard muscle covering his shoulder blades, sliding down to his chest and back around, digging into his lower back. Christ! He could feel himself getting hard. Thank God he was wearing a long tee. 
The horn outside sounded off again. 
Juice forced himself to stop. Kissing her cheek last, not at all embarrassed by the fact that he was more than a little breathless because she was, too. His voice rumbled out from a lower register, “I'll call you.”
She blinked, her eyes still unfocused and dreamy while she nodded. Her lazy smile sent ripples of want through him, holding all kinds of promise.
Juice held the door open for her, watched her hop into the passenger seat of the van, then closed and locked it. He flicked off the neon open sign, a hint of a smile turning his mouth up on one side. Turning around he was startled by Tig who began a slow clap. Juice chuckled, wiping his mouth free of the bright lipstick smears he knew she left behind. 
“Bravo! Bravo, brotha! I am so goddamn proud of you. You met that chick what ten minutes ago?” Heat rushed to Juice’s face as Tig continued. “Bravo! I mean, I was hoping you were gonna fuck. But still…that was hot.”
Juice wiped his mouth again, rubbing his hand on his jeans. “Shut up.”
“Nope.” He leaned on the counter and winked. “Seriously. Two thumbs up.”
Juice grinned pulling the security gate across the large front window, “And I wasn’t even wearing my cut.”
“That’s right goddamn it!” Tig’s eyes went crazy wide, “You reeled in that sweet, sexy bitch all on your own.”
For all the times Tig lit into Juice for his low record with crow eaters, this was high praise. With an bashful grin, Juice waved him off, “Alright, alright. Calm down. Let’s go.” 
Juice walked around flipping off the lights. He caught his cut and slipped it on when Tig chucked it at him. “No, you Puerto Rican pimp!” Tig teased while Juice set the alarm. “Half the guys in this club need their cut to even get close to a piece of ass.”
Juice couldn’t help but laugh for real at that. Tig was on a roll.
“But not you! Not my Juicy!” Tig swatted him hard on the butt as he walked out the door.
Juice was trying to lock the door behind them but he kept doubling over laughing. Tig’s antics were killing him.
“It was a work of art, my friend.” He kissed his fingertips and thrust them up to the heavens. “Mmmuuua! Matter of fact…fuck them. I'm buying you dinner.” 
Juice threw his head back laughing, his hand pressed to his stomach, Tig was out of control. “You act like I already hit it!”
“Doesn't matter.” Tig pointed at him, his face dead serious, “You will, my friend. You will.”
Juice shook his head, finally getting the door locked, “You’re crazy.”
“You’re gonna tear that shit up!” Tig threw his arm around Juice’ shoulders as they walked toward their bikes, jostling him roughly. Pinching his cheek, he spoke in his best little old grandma voice “Look at you! My little boy's all grown up!” Then with a smacking kiss on his cheek, Tig shoved Juice toward his bike. 
Juice wiped his face vigorously, “Ugh! Cut it out!” Mounting his bike, he flashed Tig another smile, “So where are ya takin’ me?”
Tig slapped his helmet on, grinning his slipperiest grin, “Anywhere you want, kid. You name it.” Leveling his finger at him again, he winked, “You earned it.”
-fin-
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
A/N: I'm such a sucker for a first kiss. Halfway through the month can you dig it?! Thx for all the love guys! 💋mmmmuuuaaaa!!! 💜kjx💜
⛄Reblogs are a lovely compliment to pay.⛄
❄️31DecDayDreamz MasterList❄️
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riewritten · 1 year
Note
Are you thinking of writing an Erwinxreader for Valentine's Day (of course no compulsion!)
i almost forgot it's still valentines in other countries (it's yesterday in my place) i wonder how it went for you, reader. nonetheless, since you requested and i want to chase the holiday til it's over, please accept this rough part 2 of a bit too pleasing in the eye (just did a quick revision to fit the season). DISCLAIMER that you don't need to read the first part to get this one. though it has (i think) the same level of fluff u might enjoy, too.
ALSO yes, there's a day of love in paradis. yes because i said so 🤭
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A BIT TOO PLEASING IN THE EYE
ERWIN X GEN NEUTRAL!READER, ERWIN X YOU, NO Y/N
TAGS: canon AU and fluff
WORDS: 2k | AO3
If there's someone who'd forget the very day deemed to be oozing with warmth amidst winter cold, it might be no other than you. 
Luckily for you, your boss could remember in your stead—well, no. Erwin specifically gambled that you'd forget, and to amuse himself by winning, he piled you with lots of paperwork the night before. Not fair, he knew, but he never was fair to begin with. He was bored, with nothing amusing to do as his line of work deprived him of appreciating the mundanity of holidays for good.
He got nothing amusing to do and apparently, the number one list on solving that involves you.
With the tick-tock of the clock, bubbling sound of boiling chamomile, and scent of newly baked pie, Erwin was emptily humming in his head; would you forget or would you not? How long would you be spacing out? Would he be given the chance to stare for five solid minutes this time? Would he—
"Commander!" you shrieked from the outside which followed suit with a bang; Erwin just knew it was the sound of your head against the door. Seems like he won, not a minute upon your arrival and you're already in disarray!
But when you opened the door and petals flew alongside your entrance, Erwin had to take back his win. 
"I tripped over the flowers at your doorway! I thought your office was a funeral!"
He barely heard you; he was stunned. It never occurred to him that a mixture of you and measly flowers his horse would just step on during a bloody expedition would look so… oh no, has he finally reached that level of "down bad" Hange talks about? How can the Commander be this cliche?
"Why are those in my office?" He knew the answer—it was either his subordinates or admirers, but he didn't think you'd be dumb enough to trip over it.
"I don't know, I was about to ask!" still, you attempted to fix your composure after the unceremonious fall. "The regiment smells so good today and I'm surprised Levi's not the reason why. I almost daydreamed while walking."
You really forgot the occasion which called for his win but he rather felt defeated with the realization of his affection. How strong could you be — to be able to beat him without even knowing? Erwin can only know.
"Have you finished what I asked you to do?"
You frowned, pointed at your eyebags, then handed him heap of documents.
He felt guilty, don't you worry, that's why he's doing as planned. "Good job. Now we have to personally deliver this at the royal palace. Tell me if you're ready to go." He stood up and ushered you to sit as he prepared the meal at the pantry.
"But I just—" you sighed, breathing still ragged from all the running, "I just came here."
Erwin came back with the dessert, "you can space out all day if you want."
"Why?" you shot him a look of doubt, "Are you scheming something?"
Sharp. "The least that I could do for piling you with a day-worth of work, I suppose." 
"How long can I rest?"
"As long as you want. I wasn't kidding."
"Heh, I got the best boss." You let out a muffled squeal, "I think I'll apply as a full-time staff member in the regiment once our commission's done."
Erwin just sipped his tea with a cordial smile. He sure as hell would refer you to a much more decent job instead of this one. Not only would you distract him by being too pleasing in the eye, but he also doesn't think he can maintain this professional dynamic any further. 
Oh, only if you know.
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"Sorry for saying this, Commander, but I feel like I'm being treated to the best trip of my life instead of running errands."
"Then you must have a nice way to look at things. Hange would be whining by now. Continue what you're saying about that bird."
"Oh yeah, I forgot about the bird. I mean, I've never eaten a cake like this. How can this be so good? And this is the first time I've ever been given the opportunity to enter Wall Sina!"
And there could be more opportunities for you if Sina wasn't gatekept to begin with, Erwin decided not to say it though, as he doesn't want to ruin the mood. "The bird," he called your name with a chuckle, "Continue with the bird."
“Okay, so Dudu the bird who learned and sang a new song whose words she did not really know the meaning of," you crooned as if it was a lullaby, "was then caught, killed, and cooked for dinner because in the song, she was actually begging people to kill and cook her! That was it. That was what I read in that book."
"And why do you think you resonate with that bird?"
"Because I'm Dudu, but rather than not knowing the song at all, I think I'd just forget what it means. I'd forget what it means and it would render me to a dinner meal." 
Erwin laughed, which kind of surprised you because Erwin never laughs. He chuckles, but never did you hear him laugh.
If you get to space out again, you're certain it's this scene that will play out.
"I'm ranting over my memory issues, Commander. I'm ranting and you're laughing."
He really did take his time, not even bothered if you're offended. After wiping his eyes a little and a last sigh to retain his composure, he said, "All that and yet you still persist in living on your own. You're dead set on being independent when you can rely on people for that so easily."
"Well, as amusing as this quirk is, I'm not very proud of it. It'll get annoying to anyone involved in the long run."
"I'm pretty certain there are people who'd be willing to take lengths for that, someone so devoted to remind what's needed to be reminded."
"Nope, not true."
"It is."
"No."
"Yes, it is."
You're confident to prove a point, "The landlord is too busy with merchants. The headmaster is on the edge of firing me. Moblit is too occupied dealing with Hange. And oh, don't get me started with how Levi would just shout at me if he notices."
Erwin hummed, "Tell me more."
"And Miche wouldn't even bother. And, uh… who else? I don't have many friends… oh, you! You'd be too—"
Oh.
Your thoughts were cut off and it didn't help with how he raised his eyebrows with a smile. "Hm? I'd be too what?"
No, it would be so haphazard of me to assume what I just assumed. "Why are you smiling, Commander?"
"Before you go home, I can arrange your paperwork so you'd know what's needed for tomorrow."
"You already do that."
"There would be a note on what's urgent and what could wait 'til the next day. The documents would be secured nicely in a folder so you won't have much difficulty browsing it."
"You already do that," and oh, how bad you wish that you were as slow at this as you usually are. Maybe by then you wouldn't have much difficulty walking because of a very flushed face.
"Hm, what more could I offer..." he pondered, "Oh, maybe I can have birds knock around your window during daybreak. That's the usual time you wake up. I’ll see to it that they wouldn’t sing phrases they don’t know about."
The usual time you wake up? How did he even manage to remember such trivial information?
"Well, that one you hadn't done yet."
"Then it's settled."
He might've meant that as a friend, right? Friends do care for you a lot. They could offer their time, although limited. They could—oh no.
He said someone who'd be so devoted to you to do so.
So devoted. So devoted. The Commander rarely uses synonyms for too much unless it really is.
You looked at him, a bit too aghast, but instead of calming down he just riled your fluster by saying, "I could offer so much, don't you think so?"
You chuckled nervously, clinging to the last bits of reluctance, "Well, yeah. Not everyone can do that, I suppose."
"Indeed. In fact, I might be the one most fitted for the job."
There, you stopped in your tracks. He took a few steps before halting too.
"W-what do you mean—" you stuttered; the drumming of your chest irked you. You asked it to stop. You really want to hear his answer very clearly. "What do you mean by that?"
He turned to you—hands on the pocket of his green coat with a cordial smile that's just so endearing to see, something that appears often in your daydreams.
It's a knowing smile, too, as if to subtly confirm your doubts. "What do you think?"
"Stop messing around," you glared but quickly turned away to whisper, "you're giving me false hope on this, Commander." 
"Come again?" But he heard that loud and clear. It's evident by how his smile got replaced with surprise. "Hope?"
You defeatedly sighed, "Nothing, not that it's important—"
"Repeat what you just said. I didn't hear you clearly."
You didn't answer even after he walked to close the distance. He called your name, not sternly but urging. "Repeat that."
"You're giving me false hope on this. You can't just blabber about someone so devoted only to make me realize that you've been doing just that all along." Too ashamed to admit yet defeated with his urging, you continued, "I mean, I just know the headmaster revealed how I've been holding you with affection for a while now, but it doesn't mean you get to play around that!"
When you raised your head again, resolute to berate him, you realized what you just did.
The commander looked genuinely surprised, as if that was the most shocking thing he had ever heard — just as if he was not hearing the most abhorrent truths and seeing the vilest of realities in his line of work.
"Oh my god, the headmaster didn't tell you?"
After a few blinks, what clicked next was a smile, insinuating that he got hold of the situation again, that whatever he was scheming tonight had finally been achieved.
"I mean, I would pay him fortunes for that information." The revelation gave him tremendous courage, too. He slowly reached for your hand, clasped his fingers at yours, and lifted it up until it reached his cheeks, "I wonder why he didn't. The headmaster has a thing with money."
"My hand,"
"Yes? What's with the hand?" He gave it a chaste peck without averting his gaze away, amusingly so. As if already aware of how his eyes, let alone that very whisper, could deprive you of comprehending such a question. It was his usual knowing look — asking things he already knows and acting out situations he knows how would end.
"Are we—" oh, don't hold back on assuming now. He's establishing it loud and clear. "Are we really supposed to work for an errand today?"
He shrugged, but your hands remained on his cheek nonetheless. "Well, where are the papers?"
The inquiry brought you back in fear.
"We didn't bring them with us! I forgot!" But your confusion became a glare upon realizing, "You said you'll be the one to bring it. I didn't forget, It's not my fault!"
"I never said you're at fault."
"Oh? Okay," you quickly fixed your composure, why am I so nervous about this? "Just for the record because I'm always the one at fault for the things that are forgotten."
"Don't worry, I'll never get angry about it." Erwin guided your hand so it'd be wrapped around his waist. He then cupped your cheek and kissed your forehead. "Unless you forget this moment first thing in the morning."
His gesture worked as a spell to awaken you that this is neither a product of your daydreaming nor a fragment brought by the sweet scent of cakes and tea — no, not this time, not from hereon.
And thus it brought you warmth, the warmest amidst winter cold. And as this day can never slip from your mind again, you hugged him tight and replied, "Well, this is what I'll be dreaming of once I space out again."
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🏷 @watyousayin @frenchdyer (sorry for bombarding you two w/ erwin updates ㅜㅜ) | SUBSCRIBE HERE
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dudu the singing bird came from hitting the budapest by noviolet bulawayo ! do give them a read, i loved their writing style
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nicholasbaudelaire · 9 months
Text
Morning jaunt
Open starter
Time: Early morning
Location: Anywhere within reasonable walking distance of Descartes and town
By 08:00 that Nicholas had already been up for the better part of three hours. The thirty-year-old wolf had returned home late the night before after an almost yearlong sabbatical in Europe. He had given up on any notion of sleep after only a couple of hours tossing and turning, and then spent the early hours of the morning unpacking his belongings, restocking his wardrobes with clothes and accessories. His attention to detail, hoovering the insides of his suitcases, polishing his shoes, steaming shirts and trousers, hanging them up directly, was bordering on compulsive when the sight of a small white skirt fallen at the back of his closet, brought the wolf to an immediate halt.
With a composed and restrained click of the closing closet doors, Nick quickly exited his bedroom, bed made, bedside cabinets empty of the usual knick knacks that made the room appear lived in. The entire apartment looked like a display room, nicely styled, but too tidy. Nicholas had no doubt that the place would soon fall into disarray much to the chagrin of his housekeeper, but for the time being, while the sun was still low in the sky, he felt compelled to preserve it’s temporary, alien cleanliness.  
Though Nick’s usual 4x4 sat in the building’s parking lot, available for him to use, Nick chose instead to walk into town. It was early, the sun was still lazy in it’s ascent, and the warm beams of light gleamed on the edge of the wolf’s lashes. Nicholas inhaled deeply, tossing a few stray ringlets away from his baby blue eyes irritably. The family barbeque he planned to attend later that day seemed lightyears away and Nick was restless. The bulging muscles in his body rippled with desire to tear and stretch and reform into his canine form, but the man was as always comfortably in control of his wolf, the animal in him that he was so proud of. Still, Nick began to test the ache in his muscles, seriously considering shifting when a breeze brought with it, the scent of another.
Nicholas turned slowly in anticipation, baby blues squinting to see the figure so brightly lit up by the lazy sun.
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septic-skele · 6 days
Text
US - Odds and Evens
Summary: Blue has a downward spiral after getting a diagnosis.
A/N: Warning for internalized ableism and some ableist language stemming from it, though it does get firmly shut down and refuted
It turned out the humans had a term for him, for people like him. Blue hadn’t even imagined there could be others like him. Despite the never-ending tension needling at his back, reminding him of all the ways the world around him could go wrong, he had tried to twist it into a positive thing. He wasn’t anxious; he was staying alert and aware of any and all possible problems—qualities a royal guard should certainly have.
The phrasing of these papers explained it differently. The wordage may be neutral and clinical but he understood what it was really saying about him, how it branded him.
Obsessive—domineering, all-consuming.
Compulsive—ungovernable, out of control.
Disorder—confusion, chaos.
All this time he thought this was a strength, that he saw things more clearly than everyone else, that he could work hard and course-correct a messy, complicated reality, when he was just too blinded by his anxieties to realize he was the problem.
Disorder. Disarray. Wrongness.
“There’s something wrong with me.” His voice sounded as distant, weak and shaky as he felt.
“Hey, that’s not what this means,” Papyrus protested, despite all evidence to the contrary spelled out in black and white. “You look at things differently, think about them differently, and when they seem off somehow it can stress you out. This isn’t about judging you for that, it’s about making a plan to help you destress.”
“My stress? My stress is the last thing that matters! What kind of stress have I been causing everyone else without ever realizing?! I’m supposed to be helping! I’m supposed to do good, make things better for everyone, for you, but according to this I-I’m simply some overbearing control freak!” Letting the papers slide out of his hands, Blue pressed them to his stinging eye sockets. “H-How many times have I barged into your space because I thought it needed cleaning? Fixing? Because I thought I could do it better. Am I really so blind and egotistical that I thought I was better than you? How many times have I nagged at you for how you eat, how you dress, your posture, your—everything? And you just stood there and took it, as if I had any right to—I never—I thought I was—but I was just making it worse, I make everything worse—!”
“Sans, stop it!”
The ferocity of Papyrus’ tone and the use of his actual name startled Blue out of his wild storm of realizations, though he continued to stammer in a panic until Papyrus pulled him into a tight embrace. The smell of smoke on his jacket made him balk and hold his breath by instinct. The firm, near painful grip Papyrus had on him didn’t ease, however, even after he fell silent.
“That’s enough, Sans, okay? I’m not just going to stand here and take this, like you apparently think I take everything else, so listen up. Listen carefully. You’re not a freak. You’re not making things worse for me. If anything, it’s my fault I’m one of the messes that’s always stressing you out.”
Blue tensed. “N-No, brother, it’s not—”
“Listen. There’s a lot I ought to be working on and I just never seem to know how to get it together. Never have.” Papyrus’ voice softened briefly to more of a mutter. “Actually, I’ve…kinda been thinking about asking the doc if there’s something different rattling around in my skull too. But that’s beside the point. You think I’d be half as well off as I am now if it weren’t for you? You butt into my space to keep it clean because I know how but a lot of times I just can’t. Even when I try really hard, it takes me twice as long as it takes you. I dunno how you do it.”
I do it because I have to.
“And you see things, tiny details that I forget or just completely miss. You think of things I never would, you have a full picture. You know what needs to happen, you get it planned down to a tee, and all that detail, that structure helps keep me on track. You also know all the ways it could go wrong; you’ve got backup plans for your backup plans and those keep me safe. You think my 1 HP and I can’t appreciate that?”
Blue swallowed hard, turning his head to better detect the faint thump of that fragile soul behind his brother’s ribs. Ten beats. Count them.
“And sure, there have been times it was annoying ’cause I felt like you were pestering me over nothing; I didn’t get why it was such a big deal. But I don’t resent you for it and I don’t think it’s 100% full-stop a bad thing. Juggling all these moving parts like you do, it’s actually impressive. The bad part is that your head drives you to do it all out of fear. When you’re scared and worried, it scares and worries me.”
Four, five—oh, stars. Blue’s nonexistent stomach turned as he lost count. “I-I don’t mean to do that to you.”
One of Papyrus’ hands finally loosened from his shoulder to gently flick his skull. “I’m worried about you, bonehead, because I want to help. Now that we’ve got an idea of how your mind works, you don’t have to do it all on your own, you know?”
He’d lost count again but that surge of shame was unfortunately second fiddle at the moment. “You shouldn’t have to, starshine. If it’s really that hard for you to look after yourself…”
“We take care of each other. That’s what family does. And who knows, if there ends up being a word for what’s up with me too, maybe we’ll hash out some ways to help that’re easier on both of us. We can figure it out together.”
Together. Eye sockets slipping closed, Blue let that idea sink in between each soft soul beat as he counted. …Eight, nine, ten. Success, finally. Relief.
Ten was a pleasant number, two odds made even when united.
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Text
Close Friends (NSFW)
Brainrot that just randomly occurred in my head and throwing my fic queue schedule in total disarray
So many self-indulgent talky bits, but I thoroughly enjoyed writing it so hopefully its an okay read too? ^^;
Rosa is plagued with a strange compulsion to do a certain act, thoroughly distracting her from work. Kiki suggests she seek the help of her closest, most special friend, Dr. Vyn Richter.
Rosa slightly unhinged. Vyn unhinged as usual. Huzzah
“And the way they just did it after he saved her!” Kiki gushed over her strawberry parfait. She frantically scrolled the display of her smartphone until it showed the very paragraph she had been overly enthusiastic about, pushing the device across the table towards Rosa. “Read it! Read it!
“Mmm…” Rosa—a spoonful of banana split still in her mouth—gingerly took Kiki’s phone and read the displayed text at her friend’s behest as she ate her strawberry ice cream. "Hey. This is damn hot… but I can't help but think something is missing…" she eventually said, after washing down the ice cream with a swig of ice-cold water.
"How's—fuck—that?" He said in a low voice as he kept on thrusting inside her, searching for a suitable rhythm. He supported her weight by holding her in place by the waist, their mouths joining from time to time to let their tongues lap at each other in sloppy, hungry kisses.
There was quite the striking contrast between the contents of the text that they were reading, and the place where they were doing the reading: a packed ice cream parlor, located in one of the busiest areas of the Central Business District. Rosa and Kiki were surrounded by other, wholesome, patrons—families, kids, behaved couples—and there they were, reading smut off Kiki’s smartphone.
“What’s missing?” Kiki raised an eyebrow. “Like…this thing has everything in it: action, sex, jealousy!” she exclaimed in mock ecstasy. “Everything a depraved girl could ever ask for.”
“Hmm…” Rosa sighed as she handed the phone back to Kiki. “I don’t know…there’s something I’m really, really hung up on and I can’t seem to get it out of my head.”
“Now I’m curious,” Kiki said. “What’s up?”
“Exactly what that fic lacks.” Rosa took another spoonful of strawberry ice cream. “Um.”
“Uhuh?” Kiki prodded. “And what is it, exactly?”
“Well. Actually,” Rosa said as she placed her ice cream spoon onto her bowl still half-filled with ice cream and bananas, folding her hands onto the table as she looked at Kiki squarely in the eye. 
“I feel like sucking a dick.”
Unfazed, Kiki could only grin at her comrade. “You, my girl, have a problem. But you know what? I totally feel you.”
“Ugh. Why are you not even surprised, I should feel offended,” Rosa groaned as she grabbed her glass of ice-cold water. 
“Ehh, it’s not as if it’s that weird,” Kiki shrugged. “You’re stressed out. Probably just needed some stress relief, you know?”
“Yeah, but—” Rosa took another swig of her water, and almost slammed the glass onto the diner-style table. “Sucking dick? Why is my urge so specific?”
She realized that she was talking a bit too loudly when the occupants from the two nearest tables next to theirs suddenly turned their heads toward her. 
Blushing, Rosa ducked in half-hearted shame and continued in a quieter voice: “I mean…you know what I’m talking about, right? And it's been distracting me too much at work, even Mr. Wing is starting to notice…” her voice trailed off, cringing at the various recollections of awkward conversations with her senior partner.
“Yeah, but…” Kiki sighed. “I’m hardly qualified to give you advice on that.”
“Well, I guess I’m going to stay repressed and stew in my—”
“Hey,” Kiki suddenly cut in.
“What?” Rosa whined as she started to wallow in thoughts of suffering pent-up sexual repression left unaddressed.
Kiki leaned over the table, then whispered to Rosa, “Aren’t you friends with that hot shrink?”
“Hot…shrink…?” Rosa furrowed her eyebrows. “Huh?”
Kiki rolled her eyes. “Oh you know! That half-European guy who likes to hang around you whenever he drops by the office!”
Rosa blinked at Kiki as she finally made the connection. “You…you mean, Dr. Richter?”
“Yes!” Kiki said, incredulous. “You mean you never even considered him attractive? You never looked at him that way?”
“Er…” Rosa gulped. 
Numerous cogs that she never thought even existed in her brain started to turn: What Kiki said was true. She never really thought of Dr. Vyn Richter as anyone other than a friend, one she could rely upon on professional and even some of her personal matters. 
To Rosa, he was someone she shared interests with, since he never laughed at anything she liked, be it a passing fancy towards occultism, or sudden interest in baking….
And now that Kiki had pointed it out, Rosa couldn’t help but realize that, yes, Dr. Vyn Richter, with his striking half-European features and his elegant mannerisms, was actually pretty hot. 
“...yeah, I mean…he’s sort of a bit too friendly, you know? And he gives off this air of…I don’t know, like he’s a bit too perfect.” Rosa started to dig into her banana split once again. “So he’s hands off in my book.”
“Yeah, but nothing’s stopping you from asking him about your little horny problem,” Kiki pointed out. “He’s a shrink, Rosa. He’s heard worse problems.”
“But he’s a guy—”
Kiki gave her a pitying look, then dabbed her lips with a tissue. “Women aren’t any better. The most judgy people I know are mostly girls, for one thing.”
Rosa briefly considered Kiki’s assertion. “Yeah, true,” she said after some thought.
“So pay your special friend a visit and ask him what you can do about it.”
===
Vyn couldn’t help but feel a little anxious upon learning that Rosa had walked in for a consultation. 
He tapped his fountain pen onto the glass surface of his executive desk, while he read Rosa’s vaguely worded medical form. Possible issues stemming from work stress, it stated.
He put down the tablet and rubbed his temples. Well, that could mean anything, really.
Vyn was very much familiar with Rosa’s tendency to exhaust all options available to her before asking for help from other people—from himself, most especially, no matter how much he tried to tell her that he wanted to help her as much as he could, to the best of his abilities….
Needless to say, he was worried. 
He was worried, only a smidgen, yet he could not shake off the nagging feeling that hung around his chest.
The door then swung open, forcing Vyn to surface out of his worried thoughts.
It was Rosa, of course—his beloved rose in all her charming yet innocent, unassuming glory—and from what he could tell through a cursory glance she had none of the tells that may point towards any serious problems. 
Good. Maybe she is here for something work related, after all. 
But stress…?
Vyn promptly shelved everything that belied his uneasiness, leaving only a bright, beaming smile on his face that he mostly reserved for her. “Hello, Rosa, it’s always a pleasure to see you.”
“Um. Hi, Dr. Richter,” Rosa returned his smile with her shy own, and made her way to one of the two chairs set in front of his executive table.
“Please, you are my guest. Let us have a bit of tea while we chat.” Vyn pushed himself from his seat and gestured towards the more comfortable-looking lounge chair-and-table set by the far corner of his office.
The psychiatrist then crossed the distance to the small kitchenette in his office, hidden from general view by an artfully-placed ornate divider. “Do make yourself comfortable while I prepare some refreshments for us. I do feel like having a bit of a break, myself.”
“You don’t have to, Dr. Richter,” Rosa said quietly, but sat herself in one of the plush leather lounge chairs anyway. “Um…also, I sort of feel bad for making you work during your break…”
Vyn had to chuckle at her words. “Nonsense. Time spent with you is always a welcome respite,” he said, voice gentle and soothing, as he poured loose tea leaves and dried lavender buds into the designated chamber in his ceramic teapot. “And I am always happy to hear from my closest friend.”
Unbeknownst to Rosa, the act of making tea also served another purpose. 
It allowed Vyn, hidden behind the divider, to watch Rosa’s mannerisms, gestures, as she waited for him. It gave him a chance to observe her unimpeded, so to speak, when he was not sitting with her, making it less likely for her to put on a front while he eyed her for microexpressions or any other similar indicators.
She is fidgeting, he noted, his brows furrowing at the sight of Rosa wringing her hands and moving her legs every so often.
He took his time steeping his tea, more so than usual, but at that point he wasn’t too concerned about the minute impact it would have on the taste of his lavender infusion. Rosa’s wellbeing came first and foremost, and Vyn needed to watch her for anything that could clue him in…
Yet apart from her nervous fidgeting, nothing else stuck out at him, and so after some time he eventually emerged from the kitchenette bearing a tray laden with tea and some cookies.
After pouring tea into both their cups Vyn sat himself in the plush chair opposite hers, crossing his legs to make him appear unbothered and relaxed around her. “How was your day so far?”
“Ah, well…” Rosa absent-mindedly brought her fingers to the side of her face, tucking a non-existent strand of hair behind her ear. “Samey.”
I have never seen her so nervous before. “Mm-hmm.” Vyn raised his cup to his lips. “The way you are being very nervous right now, however,” he took a sip of his tea, and frowned a little as he realized that it was a little on the bitter side as a result of over-steeping. “Does not seem all ‘samey’ to me.” He put his cup back onto its saucer. “Would you not tell your closest friend what is bothering you?”
Rosa sighed. Then moaned “Why did I let Kiki talk me into going here,” under her breath.
Vyn raised his eyebrows. “Miss Kiki?” A pause. “If you are this bothered, then your work friend made the best call in suggesting you come to me for help.”
Rosa then groaned, “Ugh, you weren’t supposed to hear that but okay.” She buried her face in her hands.
The doctor merely sat there quietly, letting Rosa compose herself, hiding his own anxiety with methodical, deliberate motions of sipping his tea.
They both sat there in relative silence: Rosa softly keening in embarrassment; Vyn calmly drinking his tea.
Then he decided to break the silence. “I assure you, you can tell me anything, and none of it will get out of these walls.” Another sip on his almost-empty teacup. “Otherwise, I would be violating our code.”
Rosa sighed. “Fine. You win as always, Dr. Richter.” She wrung her hands again. “Well, you’ve noticed how stressed I am at work.”
Vyn said nothing, only nodding at her to show he was listening.
“Well. Ah. It’s…” More wringing of hands. “Trying to manifest in certain ways. Um.”
Long, slender fingers picked out a dark chocolate cookie laced with matcha ripple. “Yes, that is to be expected. People under extreme stress may experience compulsion to do any of a myriad possible things, to blow off steam, so to speak,” Vyn said before biting off a piece of cookie. 
Rosa moved on to twiddling thumbs. “Yes. Compulsion. I guess…that’s an apt word.”
“Compulsion to…?” Vyn let his voice trail off as he poured himself another cup of tea. 
“It’s so hard to put into words…” Rosa murmured, more to herself.
“Once again, Rosa, it is part of my duty to ensure secrecy.” He lifted the cup to his mouth, lips resting against the warm rim of the ceramic teacup. “Is it so dire as the impulse to—” Vyn then proceeded to voice out one of the more serious manifestations of pent-up workplace stress, as a way to encourage her to open up. “...Report for work at Themis Law armed with a semi-automatic machine gun and…going to town with it?” 
Another sip of tea.
“No, Dr. Richter,” Rosa said, her voice flat. Then came the few words that Vyn least expected to come from her mouth, not before this very moment: “All day, every day, all I ever think about is wanting to suck someone’s dick.”
Vyn promptly coughed out his tea, spilling hot liquid all over his waistcoat.
Rosa now audibly moaned. “See? See?” 
Despite her anguished shame she still had the presence of mind to quickly grab the nearby tissue caddy, leaning over the table to help Vyn dab the liquid off his clothes. “This is why I didn’t want to talk about it!”
“No, no, I am sorry, I truly am,” Vyn quickly muttered as his fingers took more tissues and patted away the spots of pale purple liquid from his white coat. “My apologies…”
Then, in a fit of very rare impulse, Vyn grabbed Rosa’s hands that were still trying to clean his waistcoat, and held her miserable gaze with his earnest own. 
“Rosa, yes, I will admit I was taken by surprise, but,” He squeezed her hands. “With that out of the way, I will still help you, and I am very much qualified to do so. Will you not trust me on this one?”
Rosa’s lower lip trembled under his gaze. “Just so you know, Dr. Richter, I’m already at the lowest depths of my shame and I can’t believe I owned up to my depravity to you of all people and I really really can’t go any lower right now and—” she babbled, averting her eyes away from his, her mind clearly going on the fritz. “I can’t…I don’t think I can take th—”
“Rosa. Rosa.” Vyn still did not let go of her hands. He lowered his voice, carefully modulating it to avoid upsetting her even further. “Sssh, it is alright. It is not as serious as you think it is.” He let his thumbs rub against her wrists, reassuringly. “Calm down.” 
His voice was soft, yet firm; as firm as his hold around her wrists. “Look at me. Look at me, Rosa. Ssh.”
Slowly, Rosa trained her eyes onto his face once again. “O…kay?”
Somehow she looked at him quite oddly, but at the confusion of the moment Vyn didn't quite catch it until much, much later. 
When it was much too late. 
Smiling gently, Vyn placed one of Rosa’s hands onto his chest. “Breathe along with me. You can do this much, yes?”
Rosa nodded quietly, her eyes still not leaving his face, as if transfixed.
“Alright then.” Vyn motioned for Rosa to sit down once again into the plush chair, and, with her hand still pressed against his chest he knelt in front of her chair, leaning forward to touch her forehead with his.
Her skin felt warm, even slightly feverish. 
He then started to inhale and exhale deep breaths, in slow cadence; letting Rosa feel his chest rise and fall underneath her palm. Their breathing mingled with each other’s, Vyn's leading Rosa's to a slower  tempo. 
Gradually her erratic breathing smoothed into a more regular rhythm, and her trembling ceased.
This went on for one full minute, after which their breaths finally synchronized with each other’s and Rosa finally calmed down. 
A long, drawn out sigh escaped her lips. “...sorry about that,” she murmured, face slightly flushed as Vyn let her go. “But yeah. I’m sorry you had to hear that.” She sank lower in her chair, arms wrapped around herself.
Rosa furtively snuck glances at him. 
Vyn padded back to the chair opposite hers. “Stop apologizing for something that is not wrong, Rosa,” he said, a wry smile on his face. “So your chosen outlet is of a sexual nature. You are a healthy adult. What of it?”
“It being painfully embarrassing aside,” Rosa said, worrying her lip with her bottom teeth, “It’s also getting in the way of work. It’s…distracting, to say the least.” Another sigh. “I’ve been so out of it lately, and the novels that Kiki have been making me read lately are making it worse…”
“And this particular impulse to perform fellatio, this manifests when you are experiencing work stress?” Vyn asked, tone as neutral as possible. “Does it also manifest with other stressors, like anxiety, perhaps?”
“Yes, and yes,” Rosa finally found it in herself to reach for her cup of tea, now cold. “I um. Deal with it by reading the stuff Kiki sends my way. In private, of course.” She knocked back the entire teacup’s worth of drink in one go.
“Reading…?” Vyn prompted her to elaborate further.
“Smut,” Rosa said.
“Ah,” was all he could say in response.
“Hmm. Did you start taking any new medicine recently? Or any changes to existing medication, perhaps?” Vyn tried to suss out if her case qualifies as one of compulsive sexual behavior.
A spike in libido, in other words.
“No. Not taking anything regularly, except for the usual headache medicine I sometimes need to take in the morning after a bad overtime.” Rosa absently took a bite from a butter cookie. “Why, Dr. Richter?”
Vyn refilled Rosa’s cup. “Okay. With that ruled out…at the moment I think it is safe to say that what you have is a clear, simple case of pent-up stress.” He gave Rosa a tight-lipped smile. “Do you mind if I start asking some probing, possibly uncomfortable questions? If any of my questions make you uncomfortable or offend you, let me know, and I will drop it.”
Rosa blinked, then fell into silence for a few moments, as if giving it some thought. Then, “Well, I think you’ve heard the worst of it, so,” she shrugged, then took the warm, refilled teacup with both hands. “Shoot, Dr. Richter.”
“And take my shot I will, then,” Vyn smiled. “Alright, first of which is…do you have a partner? Someone you are intimate with?” 
Ah, there I go, asking questions I do not want to hear the answer to. Vyn's neutral face colored with a hint of pleasantry perfectly hid his chagrin. 
Thankfully, Rosa shook her head, “Nope. Sexually frustrated here,” she said. “If I did, I probably wouldn’t be here in the first place, Dr. Richter,” she said with a lopsided grin. “That makes it a weird question, no?”
Ah, sharp as always. “Not necessarily, no,” Vyn blithely countered, side-stepping any chance for Rosa to find out that his questions are actually of a selfish nature. “There are instances where a couple may need therapy to address any issues arising from mismatched libido, which may, in turn,” he gestures towards her. “Also cause problems similar to yours.”
“...Okay,” Rosa murmured. “But um. Yeah, no partner.”
He nods. “Alright. Since you do not have a partner; I have another question, to try and determine how exactly this impacts you negatively.”
Should I ask this now?  He mulled as he made a show of refilling his tea and taking a butter cookie from the tray, stalling for time to let him weigh his options. 
The question he now wanted to ask was something he always wondered, something he wanted to be more certain about, and now that the chance to ask has presented itself he wanted to grasp it with both hands and take it. 
Vyn then, with the driest and most clinical voice he could muster, asked, “Do you feel like this stress-induced compulsion of yours is making you look at any male colleagues in your law firm as a desired sexual partner?”
There.
Let the chips fall where they may. 
This time, Rosa did look taken aback, and Vyn feared that he may have gone too far. Yet her reaction was indeed strong, but in a way that he did not expect.
“Hell no!” She exclaimed incredulously. “Whenever I see them, all they remind me of is work, work, work. All of them in Themis,” she did a mock grimace. “Ugh, no. Please.”
Behind Vyn’s poker faced facade his heart soared, and angels sang at the back of his head. 
Yes! 
He then cleared his throat. 
One more. 
“Maybe I should rephrase the question a bit. With the compulsion to perform that certain act in mind, have you started looking at any of your male colleagues as a potential sexual partner?”
“Um. Hahaha.” Rosa raised an eyebrow at him, yet remained quiet after that. She took another bite from the butter cookie she had been nibbling on.
Vyn—strangely seized by a strong need to exploit the very rare chance to ask otherwise very inappropriate questions—decided to wait in silence for half a minute. If, perhaps, if that half minute lapsed without her saying anything, or if she outright declined to answer the question, then he would drop it—
“...yes, actually,” Rosa eventually said, at the twenty-seventh second. 
Vyn’s mouth suddenly went dry.
“Mm-hmm,” Vyn hummed as noncommittally-sounding as possible. “I see. It is not at all strange. Sexual tension between friends happen more often than people would like to think.” He took a sip of tea, letting the much-needed feeling of warmth spread in his throat, to calm his own nerves. “Perhaps I can help you in this regard?” 
The irony in his words did not escape him. Not at all.
“Help…how?” Rosa was understandably suspicious.
Realizing that he was already far in too deep at this point, Vyn decided to play it off coolly. “Well. If I am familiar with this person you are interested in, perhaps I may help you with a few po—”
“Oh, you are very familiar with this person I am currently eyeing, Dr. Richter,” Rosa murmured quietly.
Behind his unassuming, lazy smile, Vyn’s stomach suddenly plummeted. The way she worded it. Luke, perhaps? Marius?
“Oh? Think you can indulge your friend’s curiosity?” Vyn said, prepping the very same knife that he supposed would be used to stab his exposed, vulnerable heart. 
He would need more than a few nights spent at The Abyss to berate himself of this particularly foolhardy, stupid folly. The sooner I am cured of this obsession I have with her and move on, the better.
“You won’t be upset?”
“Not at all. Your secret is safe with me.”
“Well then, Dr. Richter. You see this person everyday,” she said as she once again lifted the teacup to her lips, but she looked at him quite intently as she sipped the liquid. “...in the mirror.”
Silence as dense as concrete hung—no, crashed—into them, particularly onto Vyn.
Ah.
This is getting too dangerous, he decided as he folded his hands onto his lap. Too inappropriate. And I brought this upon ourselves. 
Yet despite his words an unmistakable feeling of elation, of relief, mixed with a little bit of unhinged ecstasy washed over him. 
His mask of a gentle, reassuring smile hid the very, very strong, dark urge to just stand up and gather Rosa into his arms, to carry her to the chaise longue and provide her the very relief that she had been seeking.
But no, this was his Rosa, his prized Rose, and he was not about to renege on his promise to help her just to sate his basest desires. He had waited for so long; he can wait longer if need be.
“I see,” he said, “I will have to admit, I am very honored, and flattered, that you consider me a,” his heart sang as he uttered the next few words. “...possible partner.”
Yet somehow, Rosa’s voice trembled when she said, “I think there’s a but in there somewhere. Dr. Richter.”
“Unfortunately yes, there is a ‘but’,” Vyn nodded. “There is the matter of conflict of interest. It tantamounts to an ethical violation, you see, should I further proceed to intervene.”
“Uhuh.”
“I can recommend you to a colleague who specializes on sex therapy.” Vyn continued. “She—”
Rosa shook her head weakly. “Mm, that’s fine, Dr. Richter,” she murmured. “I know you mean well, and I trust you, but I can’t help but feel I’ll be judged if my issue is going to be handled by another person.”
“That is not true, Rosa,” Vyn reminded her. “We are professionals. I can personally vouch for my colleague—”
“Mm, that’s…that’s fine,” Rosa gave him a crooked, forced smile. “I think I’ve taken up enough of your time now, Dr. Richter, I…I think I should go.” She straightened her skirt and started to gather her things.
Vyn realized that Rosa acted as if he had outrightly rejected her. 
Oh no. No. No, no no. God damn it!
Rosa was already making her way to the door when Vyn blurted out, with more force than he had intended: “One week!”
Rosa stopped in her tracks, and looked at him warily. “One week…?”
“One week,” Vyn repeated. “You seem to be thinking in the heat of the moment. So what I want you to do, Rosa, is to give things a bit of thought for one week, cool your mind off if possible, and if you think you…you still want me after that one week then come back here.”
He did not realize it, but Vyn’s eyes looked a little desperate, and even Rosa herself understood. 
“Mind, though, that should you come back here after that one week, anything that we will do in relation to your predicament will need to be…” He took a deep breath. “...stricken off the record.”
He let the silence explain the implications.
“I…see.” Rosa nodded. “I’ll see you when I see you, Dr. Richter.”
Half an hour after Rosa left his office Vyn was still burying his face in his hands, clearly thrown in for a loop. 
This is not going according to plan at all.
As he left for the day he told his assistant to not encode Rosa’s walk-in consultation into the log. “She was merely a friend visiting me,” Vyn told him, much to his assistant’s confusion. “Just a friendly visit.”
===
One week came, and went.
Vyn had been mindful enough to steer clear of Rosa during that one week when she was supposed to think things through. 
And on the Monday after that one week had elapsed he made it a point to clear his schedule from noon onwards, yet stayed in his office for a couple hours longer than usual…in anticipation of her momentous visit to his office. 
If she would drop by, that is.
Her getting cold feet was not inconceivable. In fact, Vyn expected her to, especially with her tendency to assume that he was somehow unattainable, that he was to be placed on a pedestal. 
He was painfully aware of it, and spent many a time trying to undo that particular dire effect from only wanting to be the most dependable friend she could ever ask for.
Vyn sighed, and stole a glance at the system clock of his workstation monitor. Twenty minutes past seven in the evening. I suppose Rosa sobered up, he thought in deep regret. Yet this is probably for the best. 
A moment’s madness, however sweet, is still madness.
He was already preparing his satchel bag for the drive home when the door to his office suddenly swung open.
Rosa stumbled into his office, still catching her breath.
“Dr. Richter,” she called out to him in between gasps. “I—I’m glad you’re still here.”
“Rosa, I—” Vyn, for once, felt that the rug had been pulled under his feet. 
He stood there, hands still in his bag, frozen in the act of getting ready to leave. “Ah, my apologies. Please, take a seat,” he murmured as his wits finally caught up with him.
His object of obsession sat herself in one of the seats set in front of his desk. “So. Um. Yes.”
“You are sure of your decision, Rosa?” Vyn asked quietly, settling himself back into his executive chair. 
He took off his glasses and wiped the lenses with the cloth he kept in one of his coat’s inner pockets; pushing them back up the bridge of his nose once he was satisfied.
He opened his mouth to say something, yet closed it without uttering a word. 
There was nothing else for him left to say.
She absently straightened the hem of her skirt. “Well, this place is most certainly out of the way home to my place,” she said. “This wasn’t a spur of the moment decision.”
“...I see.”
Vyn decided he had heard enough. 
He stood up from his chair, and walked to where Rosa sat.
And knelt in front of her.
With a tender hand he cupped one of her cheeks, gently turning her face towards his. “Tell me if this is unpleasant for you,” he whispered before leaning in for a chaste peck on her lips.
“No,” Rosa whispered against his mouth. “I like it.” 
To Vyn’s utter surprise Rosa slid her arms around the back of his shoulders, trembling hands grabbing him by the nape and the back of his head; she hung onto him rather desperately as she started kissing him hungrily with tongue. 
The intensity of her kiss was such that it sent him reeling into her lap, and Vyn found himself clinging onto the armrests of her chair as he almost literally drowned in her needful kissing.
He certainly bore the full brunt of her pent-up stress as she devoured him in her embrace, her tongue—inexpertly, yet brimming with passion—exploring his mouth, her lips pressing, moving against his as she made it known just how much she wanted him at the moment.
No words were said. Only their mingled heavy breathing, the unmistakable wet sounds of torrid kissing, and soft whispers could be heard in his office.
“All that one week ever did was make things worse,” Rosa eventually said, a tad wistful, as she surfaced for air. “I…have Mr. Wing ever told you about a mistake I almost did the other day?”
“Mm. No. We never talk outside NXX meetings and other…similar functions…” Vyn murmured absently, a vivid flush coloring his face, hooded gold eyes hazy with something quite primal. “What was it…?”
Rosa was about to recount what happened—it appeared to Vyn that way, at least—yet one look at his face and all she could do was to kiss him again. 
It finally dawned on him, while Rosa had her way with him—as he draped over her lap, letting his Rosa indulge in his mouth, his skin, his scent, as much as she wanted to—that he had well and truly lost all modicum of control when it came to her. 
Eventually he could feel his own desire taking over; his pants now felt uncomfortably tight. Vyn had to pull away from the kiss. “Not here,” he said, his voice almost wavering. All he wanted to do was to lose himself in her but this was not about him; he was there merely to provide her a means for release. “Not here,” he repeated. “We need to do this somewhere you are in control and fully comfortable in. How about your apartment?”
===
The drive to Rosa’s apartment was filled with such sexual tension that Vyn finally realized just how debilitating such type of tension could be, especially when forced in situations where he had to endure such but could not act on it. 
Like driving, for instance.
It was slowly driving him insane; certainly took all he had not to feel up her thigh whenever he reached for the gear stick. 
And when they finally entered her apartment, after Rosa had locked the main door behind her, Vyn was slammed against the nearest wall and his necktie pulled down with such strength by the veritable force of nature that was Rosa’s hunger. 
“I’m sorry, Dr. Richter,” Rosa mumbled, urgently, before she nibbled on his lower lip. “I’ve always liked you, I think, but I never knew just how much I wanted you until you made me look at you last week. When you were trying to calm me down.” 
Moaning, she pressed her body even more against him. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, before pulling his face towards hers; her tongue slipping past his lips to taste him.
Vyn couldn’t help but shiver, swallowed whole by her overwhelming need for him that he never quite expected. Rosa’s soft breasts were pressing against his torso; one of her thighs wedging between his legs and deliberately rubbing against his stiffening erection. Shit. “No need to feel sorry,” he said after her mouth moved on to trace his jawline with the tip of her tongue. “Oh fuck,” he groaned as she gently bit his neck. 
He could feel her bury her nose in the crook of his neck; he could feel her take in deep breaths, inhaling his scent. She sighed, her breath hot and enticing against his skin, “You really smell so good,” she murmured. “Why am I only realizing how much you turn me on, only now?”
Because you were not paying attention, Vyn wanted to tell her, if only to get back at how many times his advances were either unknowingly rebuffed or outrightly dismissed. 
“Rosa, why don’t we—damn—move on to your living room?” Vyn managed to say instead, as Rosa’s hands slipped into his doctor’s coat, coiling her arms around his body as she kissed him deeply yet again. “We can, we can—hahh—finally get you to do what you have been thinking about for so long now.”
When Rosa pulled back, all Vyn could see was her desire for him, quite unhinged: olive eyes half-hidden behind her lashes and further obscured by something dark. Her glossed lips curved into a knowing smile. “I like how you think,” she said, in a maddening half-smile. “I’ve always liked how you think. Now that I’ve had one week to reflect on things I’m now convinced how silly we were, letting us settle into being only friends.”
That was only you, Vyn hazily thought, still reeling in the headiness of her embrace. “I also wanted you, Rosa,” he whispered, relishing the sensation of Rosa’s hands feeling him up his chest. “You have no idea.”
He was led into her living room, and there Rosa forcefully pushed him onto the sofa. Vyn gasped—yet the experience was not unpleasant—and his gasp immediately transitioned to moaning as Rosa clambered onto his lap, claiming him once again in a kiss while tugging at his necktie even harder than she did earlier. Her other hand impatiently grabbed fistfuls of his silver hair as she devoured him with yet another long round of kissing that left both of their lips red and raw.
At this point Vyn was now intoxicated in the heat of the moment and could no longer think far ahead as he was wont to do. “What are you waiting for, pet?” he grinned at her, almost leering, no longer bothering with putting on polite, pleasant masks. “Did you not say you wanted to suck someone’s dick?”
Rosa giggled as she slid against his body, also fully clothed as he was but no less aroused. “Is that an invitation?” Her hand slowly, tantalizingly slid downward; until it was low enough for her to caress his erection through his pants. “God, I really want to…”
“Then do it,” Vyn licked his lips. “Have your way with me,” he whispered, voice low and dripping with molten honey. “Do you want me to help you undo my belt and trousers for you?” His mouth twisted into a devilish grin. “Or do you want to indulge in ravishing your favorite doctor and do it yourself?”
Rosa matched his unhinged grin. “Ravish?” she asked, amused at his choice of words. “Like I said, I really like how you think.” She slid off his lap and knelt in front of him, slotting herself between his spread thighs. “Dr. Richter,” she murmured as her fingers fumbled with the buckle of his belt; “Have you always fantasized about a girl blowing you under your desk?”
Vyn let out a dark chuckle. “Not really, no, but my fantasies always involved an attorney named Rosa, and how wonderful she must be, writhing upon my bed. Underneath me. Crying out my name as I fuck her until she begs me to stop.” His grin widened further, “That is, if I would stop. I will enjoy her as much as I can, until my knees give out.”
Rosa had already pulled down his zipper by the time he finished detailing his vulgar promise of pleasures to come. “That’s a high bar you’re setting,” she said as her fingers massaged his erection through his underwear. “I’m not sure if I can even meet Dr. Richter’s lofty expectations.”
“I am sure you will,” he said quietly, intently watching Rosa as she fondled him with experimental touches. “But this moment is not about me; rather for you and letting you deal with your stress. Go ahead. Play with it if you wish.”
Spurred on by his words Rosa slipped her unsteady fingers underneath the waistband of his boxer shorts, finally freeing his cock from its confines. She gasped as she beheld it in all of its stiff glory, her eyes glued to his proud cock in rapt attention. 
“Do you like it?” He asked. “Does it meet your expectations? He bit his lip, eyes still closely watching her. “Hahh—yes. Yes,” He let out a ragged sigh as Rosa tentatively licked at the tip of his cock, tasting his precum.
“Hmm.” Rosa watched his cock twitch. She licked it again, on the underside of his tip this time; his cock once again twitched in response, making her smile in a strange child-like glee. “How cute,” she whispered, before planting a soft kiss on its tip. “I like it.” She allowed herself a long, slow, deliberate lick from the base all the way up to tip. “It’s way better than I expected, now that I’m seeing one up close.”
Her words caught his attention. “Is this your first time having sex with a partner?”
“Uhuh,” Rosa hummed in affirmation, then trailed small, exploratory kisses along his shaft, alternating it with shy flicks of her tongue. She let out a small giggle as he twitched once more, against her cheek. “Hey!”
“Heh. Take your time playing, little pet,” Vyn drawled as he sank deeper into her sofa’s cushions. He continued to passively watch Rosa as she satisfied her curiosity, clearly not aware how much her little licks, kisses and even soft nibbling on the skin of his cock gradually pushed him towards the edge. 
The precum that Rosa licked off earlier was quickly replaced; a bead of clear fluid started to dribble along the tip. 
"There it goes again," Rosa murmured. She swirled her tongue over the tip of his cock, cleaning it of precum. 
A sharp intake of breath. "Stop teasing me Rosa," Vyn hissed. "Make me come. Please."
Rosa tipped her head to the side, looking innocent. "But you told me to take my time playing with you." 
From Vyn's vantage point she looked like the very image of a succubus, playing up the visual qualities of a pure, innocent, virginal maiden while obviously engaging in lascivious acts. "Changed your mind?" She then dropped her girlish act, and her expression transitioned once again to reflect her desire to consume him. 
"I thought you wanted to perform fellatio," Vyn whispered, voice dropping a couple octaves lower. "Do you not want to suck me off? Does mine not measure up to your specifications?" 
Rosa laughed a little. "Please, Dr. Richter. Any larger and I'll probably choke." Her lips now hovered above his tip. "I was just messing with you." The tip of her small tongue flicked at his cock's slit, prompting yet another small gasp from the doctor. 
"You will not choke on it," Vyn eyed Rosa hungrily, and with soft whispers he continued, "In fact, you might find it just the right size for your pretty little mouth to wrap your lips around.” His cock twitched at the sight of her mouth taking him in; her head slowly bouncing over his lap, dick sliding into her mouth inch by delicious inch. "Just like that. Slowly. No need to rush. Try to slide your tongue—nngh—against it. Just a bit." 
"Mmph…" Rosa moaned, turned on, with Vyn still inside her mouth. 
The resulting vibrations emanating from the back of her throat felt so good that Vyn couldn't help but throw his head back into the cushions. “Damn it,” he groaned, catching himself before he could cry out in sheer pleasure. 
His hands slid along the soft velour surface of Rosa’s sofa, fingers splayed to find purchase for him to hold on to. There were none; leaving him with balled fists and all-too obvious tracks created by his nails: irrefutable evidence of just how much control he had already lost.
It was certainly something for Vyn to ruminate over the dictaphone in the next few lonely nights, but not right now. Not right now, when Rosa—the girl of his dreams, the one who owned him, even if she was too dense to even understand it—was kneeling right in front of him, as if in prayer.
And such fervent prayer involved his cock sliding into her mouth.
Encouraged by the extremely positive feedback, Rosa started to punctuate the up-down movement of her lips with occasional humming. 
"Hahaha. Oh, shit," Vyn moaned helplessly. And she's not even sucking. He gritted his teeth, hellbent on not reaching orgasm too soon. Yet. "Y-you can try sucking—" his words abruptly cut off as Rosa immediately did as he suggested, and he almost regretted it: it felt much too good, and he knew he would come any moment now… 
It was clear that she wasn't used to the act, but the image of Rosa performing fellatio on him, his Rosa, and doing it quite earnestly… it was more than enough stimulation for him. 
And he had never felt this much stimulation before. 
Vyn slowly, gradually lost grasp on what little control he had left.
He had been careful not to put his hands on her as she indulged herself with him, careful not to unintentionally drive the pace of the act, to let Rosa be fully in control. He had decided, long before they even started, that her pleasure would come first and foremost, and that his would be merely a happy secondary result.
Yet right now one of his hands found the back of her head, fingers twisting loose locks of her auburn hair around his digits. He then pushed her head down, making her take in more of his cock, enough for him to hit the back of her throat. 
"Yes. You have been good so far, Rosa. Just a little more," he whispered in between urgent, shallow breaths. "Just—ahh, yes. Almost…" 
His other hand grabbed her right hand by the wrist; Vyn guided her inexpert fingers into jerking off the last few inches of him that could no longer fit in her mouth. "Suck on me just a bit more, my succubus. Would you let me come in your naughty little mouth of yours, I wonder? So you can have a—mmm, yess—full taste of me." It was clear that his own degeneracy was in full display, but Vyn let it; much better for Rosa to know he had this very nature lurking in his depths before she decides to stay with him.
Oh, Rosa, his heart yearned for her to accept him and his myriad little perversions; the ugly cracks to his overall self that resulted from just how much he had to endure in the gilded hellhole he escaped from. Look at me. Look at me, and please do not turn away.
Yet at this moment Rosa abruptly pulled away and gasped for air.
Vyn felt the most dire mixture of slight rejection, and immediate frustration upon being denied immediate release. I was so close…!
He was about to voice out his frustration, yet his words died in his throat the moment his eyes focused onto Rosa’s face, now that she sat on her haunches in between his legs, the entirety of her face in full view: Her chin was completely drenched with her saliva; the same saliva that also pooled around the base of his cock. Traces of involuntary tears also ran down both her cheeks, most probably from when he pushed her head down deep enough for his cock to hit the back of her throat. 
The absolutely debauched sight of his Rosa in such a state almost made the doctor achieve orgasm. 
"Why did you stop?" He meant his words to come out imperious, but instead what came out sounded strangled and utterly needy. 
"I'm sorry," Rosa groaned. "I'm just so horny…" She quickly stood, on unsteady legs, to hike up her skirt and step out of her panties.
But before she could kneel between Vyn's legs once more he grabbed her by the arms, pulling her down towards him, forcing her to straddle one of his thighs. "Who told you to stop?" he growled, voice dangerously low this time. One of his hands snaked up her inner thigh. "I was near. You utter, utter—" 
Fingertips briefly strummed her moist clit, only for a couple of seconds, after which his fingers withdrew; fingertips settling just an inch away from the entrance to her cunt. "...tease."
"Nngh…I didn't do it on purpose!" Rosa whimpered as she moved her hips in an effort to have her clit rub against his fingers. "Please, Dr. Richter!"
Yet Vyn merely slid his fingers down her thigh even further, his touch never leaving her skin. "A favor for a favor, Rosa," Vyn murmured, voice as smooth as silk. He started to caress her lower thigh. "Someone of your profession should know better, no?" He lightly pinched the tender skin of her inner thigh, making her yelp in surprise. "But no, you stopped, just when I badly needed my relief."
All it did, however, was turn her on even more. She rubbed her thighs together, sandwiching Vyn’s teasing hand between them. "I just… I just want to know how it feels to have someone else touch me—aaah!"
So that is how things are, at the moment…
Vyn did not let her finish; he now had a better grasp on her current predicament. 
Rosa, he quickly learned based on what she just said, was starving for touch. The need to perform fellatio was merely a part of her need to be physically intimate. 
And so with this realization he decided to let his Rose taste a little bit of pleasure. A hand slid up her thigh; his thumb started making slow circular motions directly onto her clit. Another finger idly stroked the entrance to her cunt. "Do you still want to fellate me, pet?" he asked. "Or do you…" the finger slowly slipped inside her hole. "...want to move on to the main course?" 
The finger slid in and out of her with tantalizingly slow yet deliberate movements, punctuated with the occasional flicks onto her clit with the pad of his thumb. “This is merely a taste,” he murmured as his lips hovered close to her ear. “Do you not desire to be filled?”
His tongue slithered along her earlobe. “Do you not wish to fuck me?” Then grinned at her, as if he were the Devil trying to push her into committing a mortal sin, for his own pleasure. 
He slipped another finger into her cunt; both fingers now buried in her knuckle-deep, massaging her hot inner walls.
Shuddering, Rosa leaned forward, now clinging desperately onto his neck, as she let his fingers wind up the tension between her legs tighter and tighter, until she could do nothing but rut against his hand. "I can always suck you off again, Dr. Richter, if you want. Anywhere you want,” she was now running her mouth off, too horny to care about the consequences of her words. “I really, really need to cum. Like. Right now.”
“Fuck me then?” Vyn whispered as he increased the tempo of his finger fucking. Wet, lewd sounds could be heard from between her thighs. 
“Mm. Yeah.” Rosa arched her back, now fully losing herself into  his fingers deep in her cunt. “Oh, but if you don’t stop right now, I’ll—”
Vyn laughed quietly against her ear, his laughter breathy and unmistakably erotic. “Do you want to be in control?” His free hand now crept up underneath her blouse, slipping inside one of the cups of her brassiere to tease her nipple. “You on top?” 
“Oh—oh fuck!”
“Tell me what you want, or I will not stop…” A chaste kiss on her ear. “Either way, I like seeing you come undone. Be it on my fingers, or on my dick.”
Another low laughter, now almost menacing.
“Shit, I can’t stop now, I can’t stop, I’m sorry—” Rosa hissed as she fucked Vyn’s hand harder. “I’m—aaaah!”
Vyn started thrusting his fingers harder, faster as Rosa lost herself to orgasm. “Yess. Nothing wrong with coming. Let yourself go,” he hissed as he helped her ride out her orgasm. “Feels quite good, yes?”
Rosa then slumped over him, her flesh twitching around the fingers still buried in her cunt. “Oh god. That was probably the best…the…ah—” She could not articulate her thoughts at the moment.
Chuckling, Vyn pulled his fingers out and, in Rosa’s full view, started to lick his fingers clean. “I like how you taste,” he murmured. “Did you ever try tasting yourself after you masturbate?”
Rosa wordlessly shook her head, too tired to even talk. 
“You taste rather good,” Vyn whispered as he slipped his pussy juice-coated finger between Rosa’s lips, making her taste her own flavor. “Do you not think so?”
“Mmph—” Rosa sucked on his finger, and Vyn was so overcome by how hard it made him that he grabbed her, pulling her roughly towards him and kissing her full on the mouth, with his finger still between her lips. Their tongues entwined and slid against each other’s, alternating with each of them taking turns sucking on his finger trapped between their mouths. 
“Nngh, Dr. Richter, I didn’t know you were this wild,” Rosa murmured as their sultry, desperate kissing finally broke. “So hot.”
“That is because you were not paying attention,” Vyn finally said what he wanted to when they arrived in her apartment. “I am so attracted to you, did you not notice?”
His words stunned her into further silence, and she stared at him quietly for almost half a minute. “I thought I was just being a little too hopeful,” she said timidly as soon as she found her voice. “I thought you were just indulging me, flirting with me because you knew I liked it. Liked you.”
“I know, and I do not blame you for thinking so,” Vyn said as he started to take off his clothes for the final voluptuous act. He was about to shrug off his white doctor’s coat when Rosa stayed his hand. “No, keep it on,” she said, voice meek. “I…uh, seeing you in your work clothes turns me on.”
Vyn grinned at this particular admission, thoroughly amused at the idea of Rosa going wet whenever they bump into each other during work hours, when he would most likely be wearing his research center uniform. “Really now?” he murmured as he straightened his coat back on, pulling it by the lapels. “Thank you for sharing with me your preferences.”
“Kiki knows that I have a uniform kink,” Rosa admitted. “She’s never let me live it down. Even points at policemen for me,” she groaned at the recollection. “Even Darius…ugh…”
Vyn had to raise an eyebrow. “Darius? Ah. There are pornographic videos on fantasies involving policemen; I would be surprised if Captain Morgan was not aware of that kind of…predilection.” Smiling, he tapped her lips with a fingertip. “You should not be so worried about it. Come now, turn that frown into the smile that I so love…”
Yet the smile that spread on Rosa’s lips was somewhat twisted. 
The next few minutes were once again filled with silence punctuated with wet sounds that came from their kissing. This time, both of Vyn’s hands are underneath her blouse; slender fingers pushed her bra up to let him play with her nipples. 
“Oh shit,” Rosa moaned as he started rolling her now sensitive peaks between thumb and forefinger. “I…” She started rubbing her pussy against his clothed thigh, trailing a thick line of her juices onto the fabric of his trousers. 
A dark smile spread on Vyn’s lips. “Shall we start the main course, then?” He adjusted his position on the sofa, lying down along its length.
His cock, having been neglected all this time, was no less stiff than it was when they started going all over each other. Vyn took one of her hands, guiding it into grasping his shaft. “And this time, let me reach my own release.”
He twitched in her hand.
“Mm. I’m still sorry for that,” Rosa murmured as she shimmied up to his hips, straddling him with her cunt directly on top of his cock. “I…I’m not sure if I’m doing it right, but…”
“You are doing good,” Vyn purred, his hands sliding to either side of her waist, to provide her support once she needed it. “Steady now. Lower your hips a bit, slide your knees along…yes…”
Rosa gasped and halted her movement once she could feel his tip poking into her entrance. “I—” she gulped nervously. “Is it so silly that I’m actually…afraid? It looks like it won’t fit. Um. Hahaha.”
“Heh. I knew Stellis University’s sex education was a bit lacking,” he drawled. “But not to this extent.” One of his hands reached between their bodies to grasp his cock, letting his tip rub against her sex to gather enough wetness. “If this is your first time, yes, it may sting a little bit. But I promise I will be gentle, my little pet,” he whispered. “I will not hurt you.
“So come. Ride me.”
Rosa sighed, defeated. “I guess I’m too horny to scare me off from a good dicking at this point,” she muttered.
Vyn was inwardly amused at her crude choice of words. “I will make sure you will get an exemplary dicking, Rosa,” he said, grinning.
Rosa laughed, then bit her lip as she continued her descent onto Vyn’s hard cock. “Ahh—” she winced as she felt it stretch her inner flesh; and she was not even halfway into taking in his entire length. Which was considerable, to say the least. 
“Slowly now, just relax,” Vyn said quietly as he started to slowly move his hips, gently thrusting inside her bit by bit to help her along. “Tell me if I am hurting you too much.”
“It does sting but…hnnngh….” Rosa bit her lip, slowly lowering herself around his cock even further. 
However one of her knees slipped, causing her to impale herself with his dick quite roughly before Vyn could steady her with his hands. Rosa yelped loudly, then keened in pain. “Oh shit,” she winced. “It does…hurt…?” She wiggled her hips slightly to feel the extent of the pain. “But…”
Vyn, despite the utter need to fuck and how that small mishap almost made him want to rail her—fuck her—hard and fast, could only look at her with concern stifled by barely reined-in lust. “Rosa, are you alright?” he asked. “Do you want to take a break for now…?” 
She shook her head adamantly. “No!” she said loudly as she planted her palms onto his abdomen, readying herself to finally fuck her favorite doctor. “I did feel a bit of tearing, but…” she looked at him with an unreadable expression on her face. “Does it make sense that I’m both hurt and very, very aroused?”
“Yes, yes it does,” Vyn whispered, yet still a little concerned as soon as she told him about something tearing. With a tentative touch of one of his fingers he felt around where their bodies joined; and when he pulled back his hunch was confirmed: Blood streaked the length of his finger. 
Lacerated hymen.
Rosa, now sitting on his hips, took a little bit more time to acclimatize herself. “So this is how it feels, to be filled with a man’s dick inside me,” she murmured. “It’s…it’s different from how I imagined it based on the smutty novels Kiki and I read.”
Vyn decided to hold a bit of conversation to distract Rosa from the pain, even if only for a few moments, despite the fact that being fully hilted inside her—yet not thrusting inside to chase his release—slowly and gradually pushed him into madness. “These novels…do you like the acts depicted in them?” he asked.
Rosa gave him a smile, still marred by the sting of virginity quite abruptly snatched away. “Of—of course. Which is why I like to read them to blow off steam…”
“Have you ever thought of re-enacting some scenes from the novels?” Vyn asked, his hands gently caressing her thighs. “I can indulge you, if you so wish.”
“Huh…?” she gaped at him; and a fierce, hot blush crept from her neck and eventually covered her entire face. “Um…they’re really…er. Situational?” Rosa struggled to find an appropriate euphemism for smut novels that typically involved fantasy and supernatural elements, for fear of Vyn judging her degenerate tastes in sexual media.
“Heh. Why not describe to me one of those scenes you like?” Vyn grinned at her. “Try me.”
Rosa looked a bit conflicted at his invitation, then said, “Well, one of my favorites is about a priest, who’s a demon in disguise, really, and he messes around with the lead female…” She cleared her throat. “It’s a nice temptation story, but who am I kidding?” she finally sighed. “I mostly read it for the sex scenes. And the priest character is um. Hot?”
“Aha,” Vyn murmured as he looked at her, a lopsided grin on his face. “A very strong preference for uniforms. Your penchant to read about men of certain types of professions, mostly placed in prominent positions of their chosen careers: Priests, police captains.” A pause. “Doctors.” His grin further widened. “You, my dear Rosa, have a kink for authority.”
Rosa’s lower lip trembled. “Can you please not analyze me when your dick is deep inside me, after making me bleed??” Another bout of a deep, vivid blush overtook her. She covered her face in her hands. “Ugh. If I wasn’t so horny I—”
Chuckling, Vyn tenderly prised her hands away from her face. “I was not analyzing you, Rosa,” he pointed out. “It was merely an observation.”
“Can we not talk about semantics please?” Rosa groaned. She was about to go off on another tirade, only to moan loudly instead when Vyn’s hand once again slipped between them and rubbed at her clit.
“Why are you embarrassed?” Vyn murmured as his fingertips strummed directly onto her clit. “Lend me a copy of that novel. I want to read, so I will know how to act accordingly the next time we…” he bit his lip invitingly. “Make love.”
“Oh shit, if you put it that way Vyn…ah…” Rosa moaned as her hips moved, seemingly involuntarily. “A..ahhh….”
“Does it still hurt, Rosa?” Vyn whispered quietly, hoping against hope that he can now finally fuck the woman he fell for, and lusted after for so long. “Do you think you can move…?” His fingers still kept at strumming her clit. 
“I—I think so, yeah,” Rosa murmured as she leaned forward slightly, her palms placed on his stomach to support her weight. She started to roll her hips, slowly at first to let her get used to the sexual act. “Mmm…oh damn.”
“You sound as if you are enjoying yourself.” Vyn kept on teasing her now all-too sensitive bud. “How does it feel, finally getting to experience fucking someone?”
Rosa closed her eyes as her hips rocked against his; as if relishing the feel of his cock moving in and out inside her. “It’s…it’s no exaggeration,” Rosa said, her voice shuddering. Her breathing grew erratic and shallow; an irrefutable sign of heightened sexual arousal.
“What is?” No longer being able to take being passive underneath her exploratory movements, Vyn slowly and gradually started fucking her from underneath, closely watching her face and body for any indications of pain. He also did not stop with his ministrations on her clitoris, to help distract her from any discomfort.
“...that sex really, really feels good,” Rosa’s hips now bounced over his cock. “I…shit…I think I’m now ruined…?” She moaned. “I don’t think masturbation would make me feel this good, fuck,”
“Shit,” Vyn hissed through his teeth. Rosa was pretty tight, and her fucking him with such enthusiasm, coupled with the fact that his hard on was being ignored for some time now, was a sure fire way of making him come inside her. “Rosa, if you keep on doing that, I may…ah, fuck!” he groaned as he threw his head deeper into the pillows placed by the end of the sofa. “...may come inside you, any moment now…”
“Th–that’s okay!” Rosa gasped out loud. “I’m nearing…”
“Do you not want to stretch this out further…?” Vyn managed to ask, even if he silently begged to just let him come. “I can slow down…”
Rosa shook her head. “No…Almost there,” she husked. “Don’t stop, Vyn,” 
Vyn. She finally calls me Vyn, long after that time way back in Nosta…
“Together, then?” Vyn licked his lips then with one arm pulled her down onto him, so her body laid flush against his. “Wrap your legs around my waist…yes…and hold on to me.”
And he started railing her from underneath, with such strength that Rosa could do nothing but cling to his shoulders. Vyn made sure to run his entire length for every thrust in and out of her cunt, savoring how her hot inner walls clamped ever so deliciously around his stiff cock. Savoring the sweet sounds she made every time he plunged deep inside her. Certainly savoring how much she enjoyed getting fucked by him, seeing her blissfully fucked out face as she feverishly kissed him all over…
“Vyn…I…VYN…!” Rosa threw her head back, shouting his name out loud as she spasmed around his cock still chasing release. “Vyn, oh god,” she moaned, then kissed him deeply. “So good…” And, unprompted, she whispered directly into his ear: “Please fill me with your cum.”
The final nail in the coffin.
“Hnngh—shit,” Vyn hissed as his vision blanked out, his sperm filling her in copious bursts. “Rosa, I lo—” he was going to say something in the throes of his intense pleasure, but caught himself and kissed her full on the lips instead. It felt inappropriate, he decided. Better to say it when both of them possess a certain degree of lucidity…
And, with their limbs entangled, lying down on the sofa to catch their breaths, they both delved deep into their own thoughts. 
At least, Vyn fancied, Rosa may be mulling her own options on how to proceed with the newfound physicality of their relationship. In his own case, however, he wondered if this time, this time, Rosa finally understood that—beyond the physical, the sex—she meant so much to him. So much that only she can cause him to lose control, and make him enjoy it.
Vyn’s arm coiled around her shoulders, pulling her even close to him. “Penny for your thoughts?” he asked.
“Um…” Rosa began, hesitantly. “If…if I needed to do this again, can we…?”
Vyn’s stomach plummeted, and he sighed in barely-hidden regret. Of course she still does not pay any attention to these things. At all.
“Oh–oh, I’m sorry, I…” Rosa fidgeted in his hold, obviously mistaking his sighing for something else entirely. 
“What I mean, my dearest Rosa,” he began, making it a point to call her with intimate nicknames starting now, “Is that should you feel the need to, I am but a call away. I shall make arrangements for us to…” He ran the pad of his thumb gently across her lower lip. “...make love, posthaste.”
“Mm. Thank you…” Rosa buried her face in his neck. Then, quite unexpectedly, she nibbled onto the underside of his jaw, sucking at it quite vigorously until a deep red-purple bruise marred his fair skin. “Teehee. Gave you a hickey.”
Vyn gave her a crooked smile. “Is this the first time you have given someone a hickey?”
“Mm. Yeap!” Rosa gave him a toothy smile. “I did a great job, I think?”
“You do know that sometimes, hickeys can last up to two weeks before they completely fade?”
“...Eh?” Rosa’s smile froze on her face as the implication suddenly hit her. “Oh shit. Dr. Richter, I’m so sorry!”
There she is, going Dr. Richter once again. 
Things…never change.
“And since I am still wearing my uniform, you essentially made sure that this hickey will be in full view every time I report for duty,” Vyn continued. “Pray tell, what can you do for me, Rosa?”
Her lower lip trembled once more. “Oh…oh shit,” she muttered. I didn’t really think clearly and I thought it was a nice way to tease you, since we just did it and all but um—”
“Hush.” With a grin Vyn tilted his head a little bit to the side, pressing his lips onto the side of her neck to give Rosa her very own hickey. His smile was satisfyingly cat-like  by the time he pulled back. “There. We are even.”
Rosa blinked at him. “Oh wow,” she murmured. Just so you know, I don’t have that many turtlenecks in my wardrobe.”
“You can always wear a loose scarf around your neck,” Vyn said blithely.
“Um…how about you?” Rosa asked, shyly.
“I shall wear my mark in full display,” was all he said. “With pride.”
===
Three days later.
Kiki was working with Rosa together in her cubicle filing away printed and signed paperwork, when an elegant, low voice spoke over the cubicle partition: “Bonjour, Mesdemoiselles.”
Kiki looked up from the file cabinet both she and Rosa were hunched over, and unabashedly gaped at him. “Um. Dr. Richter?” she almost stuttered. “How can we help you?”
“Nothing, really,” he smiled, and his golden-eyed smile was as beatific as the Sistine Chapel angels. “I only wanted to drop by and pay my closest friend a visit,” he said, motioning to Rosa who was still facing the file cabinet, frozen in place.
Dr. Richter merely stood there, waiting for Rosa to react, still with that serene smile plastered on his face.
After a few moment—that stretched quite long enough to fill an eternity—Rosa finally turned, and slowly stood up straight to face him. “Um. Hi, Dr. Richter,” she murmured, eye downcast.
Well, isn’t this really aaaawkwaaaard, Kiki cringed in second-hand embarrassment, surreptitiously looking at both Rosa and Dr. Vyn Richter.
Then she saw it.
That unmistakable mark underneath Dr. Richter’s jaw. 
A hickey?! Kiki’s synapses almost fried with the revelation, and the implications that came with it. So. So, Rosa really did visit Dr. Richter for her need to suck dick and THIS is the treatment he gave her? 
The fact that Rosa had been wearing a scarf since Tuesday was a clear indicator that yes, something good finally happened to her anguished friend.
He…Kiki’s polite smile became a little bit too taut. He gave Rosa a dicking.
Oh god Rosa you owe me a lot of stories BIG TIME and you owe me BIG TIME since I suggested you visit him in the first place!
Rosa, you lucky, LUCKY, girl!
The intern’s brain then was filled with myriad thoughts of similar nature, some of them in capslock, but then she finally managed to wrest back control over her own self and cleared her throat.
“Ehem,” Kiki said, unable to suppress her knowing grin. 
And, surprisingly enough, Dr. Richter returned it with a knowing smile of his own. 
Figures. If he’s displaying it for all to see he must be doing it deliberately and wants people to know…
In the meantime, Rosa looked like all she wanted to do was to dig a hole in the ground and bury herself alive.
Mercifully Dr. Richter dropped the amusing smile-fest and fished something from out of his pocket. “I also dropped by to return this,” he said as he walked into their shared cubicle to hand Rosa a very very familiar book.
What the fudge is that…Is that the hardcopy of that priest smut novel I lent her???
“It was a very interesting read,” Dr. Richter said, genially. Then, with a low voice he continued, “And a very useful reference, as well,” then winked conspiratorially to Kiki.
Kiki’s brain blanked out.
Rosa was still unresponsive.
“Well, I think the occupant in that office over there is making it known to me that I have overstayed my welcome,” the silver-haired psychiatrist remarked. “I shall take my leave now.” Then, to Rosa, “I will wait for your text.”
Kiki was still staring at the main entrance to their department well after Dr. Richter disappeared through the glass doors. “Damn, girl, you got yourself a huge catch,” she mumbled. “Doctor effing Richter.”
Rosa, finally able to speak, said in a strangled voice, “We’re just close, um. Friends.”
“Shut up, girl,” Kiki said. “Any more of that ‘close friends’ schtick and I’ll slap you silly.”
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argumate · 1 year
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so I finally watched Dune (Villeneuve's) and it was entertaining, pretty much what I expected, I'm glad I watched it.
it has some good visuals, some decent actors, a dramatic score, possibly over-dramatic but that's appropriate.
the space scenes were excellent, cold and inhuman like 2001, vast geometric shapes moving in unnerving ways.
I liked the blocky solidity of the palaces, the theatrical effect of the empty spaces and the subtle decoration in the rooms.
that damn bull though -- they kept cutting back to it but what did it really signify? it represents the cruelty and capriciousness of the Old Duke, a trace of which should be visible in Duke Leto, but I don't think we see that at all in this film, perhaps it just represents another bold gamble taken and lost.
I imagined the fief on Caladan as being more like the Mediterranean, Aegean, or Indian Ocean in character, more suited to the Greco-Roman, Byzantine, and Persian influences that you imagine would describe the Atreides, but somehow it ended up more... Scottish?? the Atreides legions fight like a (distressingly undisciplined) hoplite phalanx but march out to bagpipes, maybe it's supposed to be an example of traditional Greek bagpipes, I don't know
at any rate the cliffs over the sea are dramatic and it's fun watching Paul stalk about dressed like a goth Victorian schoolboy as his father comfortingly tells him that he doesn't need to take on the burden of the family legacy if he doesn't want to (while the tombs of a dozen generations of his ancestors watch on in silent reproach)
I felt that the drama and pageantry of the introduction faltered a little when they reached the city of Arrakeen, which was a disappointing muddle of generic computer generated dusty metal that seemed very slapdash and poorly thought out compared to all the other settings, undermining the battle over it which was to come.
(and the battle was uninspiring, watching the feared Atreides legions run out in their pyjamas in disarray to face foes they didn't even notice were coming until after they arrived)
I'm quite familiar with the Dune books so it was interesting watching the movie and seeing how the sheer number of characters made it impossible to give many of them any meaningful characterisation or emotional development.
I was very pleased to see Chang Chen playing Doctor Yueh, but he is given no time to demonstrate his affection for Paul and Jessica nor the helpless compulsion that drives him to betray them, while Gurney and Duncan chew the scenery as best they can but can't quite convince you that they actually serve any purpose in the story (Paul's son is going to bring back a thousand clones of Aquaman?) and the Reverend Mother does a good job but has lost the nuances she had in the book ("I must have wanted you to fail").
"the Beast" Rabban portrayed by Dave Bautista (love that guy!) was one stand out I thought, mostly because this brute of a man comes across as nothing but a scared child next to his uncle, providing an excellent contrast for the nihilistic menace of the slug-like baron.
the baron is-- absurd of course, I mean he's even more absurd in the book, a corpulent flamboyant cackling caricature of a man, you could say this take is boringly toned down or you could say it's ludicrously over the top (he bathes in black sludge? seriously? you have to admire his commitment to the aesthetic, even if that's a Shrek move) but it's basically impossible to film a guy like this in a believable way and you just have to go for it.
the scene that sold the baron for me is when he's tucking into a solo banquet with his semi-conscious cousin Leto draped naked over a chair at the other side of the crazy long table, then when Yueh is brought in he activates his suspensors and silently rises into the air like a squid and drifts across the table towards us in a ghostly blur, all while the camera stays fixed on Leto's frozen rictus; the lack of focus echoes what Leto must be experiencing and is devastatingly effective.
the Fremen and Atreides and Harkonnen and Sardaukar have their own languages which is very cool (and Yueh speaks some Mandarin!) but why do the bad guys sound like they're using bad voice filters, they're being portrayed like literal orcs to the point that it begins to feel weird.
ornithopters are stupid but you have to admit these dragonfly contraptions do look pretty cool.
the worms get a lot of build up -- and I was surprised they preserved the harvester scene from the book almost verbatim, it felt like it consumed a lot of time -- but it's very satisfying when you finally see them rippling through the dune sea, it brings home the shifting danger of the desert sands in a way I wasn't expecting.
Paul has visions of the jihad but he never says the word "jihad".
splitting the movie in two is obviously necessary but the split is awkward, and it's really not helped by clunky lines like "this is only the beginning".
Chani gets a lot of vision time but what can you even say when you meet the teenager with whom you can precognitively remember several decades of future marriage?
still, bookending the movie with Chani is consistent with the book, that begins and ends with the women in Paul's life: Chani, Irulan, Jessica, something that always seemed like an interesting choice.
there is a lot more I would say about Dune but it would mostly be about the book rather than movie; this was a decent adaptation given the constraints of the medium, hopefully it won't be the last.
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Cantos for Lemuel Gulliver
Canto CXI
This isn’t some kind of metaphor. Goddamn, this is real!
We are camped out in Jen’s house. The entire party in disarray:
the botanist compulsively making sketches of every flower he can remember. Our biologist has decided that persons as small as we are cannot exist. Plaintively she asks if we might possibly wear stilts, or lifts, or just stand up straight so we could be tall enough to ride in good sensible taxonomy.
The cartographer considers a 1:1 map for us to live inside.
I am tied spread-eagle to Jen’s palm as with the other hand she removes a book from the shelf and opens it. Another explorer. She says that for a while she thought the author was a robot.
She had an elaborate mythology about him: that he was not human at all but a robot sent to observe humanity from another star. But something had happened when the author entered our atmosphere, some kind of cosmic fuck-up and now he just sees everything and can’t make sense of any of it. He was fueled by amphetamines and foot-long chili dogs. Sometimes the robot would try to beam back what he had seen but it was garbled through a haze of speed and finely-ground spiced hamburger. And thus: his poems. She said she didn’t believe that any more. She holds me over the cover of the book. I feel the heat of her palm against my back. I am trying to tell you. I am trying to explain myself. Her pinky twitches and moves my right arm. I swear I am trying to tell you about a new country. She opens the book and begins to read.
(Epigraph is from "Squirrel Song", by Shellac.)
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dusty-yote · 10 months
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look, I'm sorry, but I'm about to do another "disney sucks at characterization" rant.
rewatching it again, I'm convinced Simba learns nothing in "the lion king".
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this is yet another character arc that is centered around "responsibility". simba's primary mental block is centered around scar's putting it in his head that he needs to take responsibility for his father's death at the stampede. there's also the responsibility that would come with his taking over as king of the pride lands.
problem 1: scar's entire mental block is a lie.
the entire second of half of the movie is simba basically trying to get over his own mental block. this would be fine if the movie framed it that way. it doesn't. even though it's been obvious since the stampede scene that it's all scar's fault, it frames it as simba needing to take responsibility for what happened and needing to go on a whole journey of self-discovery in order to make peace with his own part in it.
problem 2: it doesn't actually take.
the confrontation scene at pride rock shows this effectively. simba comes back, confesses to the lionesses that "oh hey, I killed mufasa". the lionesses are stunned but not exactly against him. this allows scar to push the point further, enough where he's almost able to knock simba off pride rock. the land engulfs in flames, scar looks like he's about to throw simba off...
scar: and here's my little secret: I killed mufasa. simba: [basically] WELL IF YOU DID, THEN WTF ARE WE ALL STANDING HERE FOR.
no issue anymore. still couldn't fully get over "I might have had a part to play" until scar tells him "nah, fam, that's a lie". whatever journey of self-discovery he took wasn't enough to get him over it entirely, it was someone telling him he actually was being lied to and didn't need to take responsibility for it. which then absolves him of it and leaves the final 5 minutes as revenge and crowning.
problem 3: if his arc is about responsibility then where's his responsibility to the pride lands?
he doesn't go home because the pride lands are in disarray. no amount of persuasion from nala on that fact was enough to get him to go. he goes home to confront his family about the death of mufasa and his "part" in it. when he actually gets to the pride lands, he's stunned at how it looks.
"well, anyone would be with how it looked". yeah. you go home and find it under construction after a raging fire and you're going to be stunned about how it looks, too, but you're probably not going to feel the compulsion to move back and help rebuild if you've established yourself somewhere else. neither are you required to take any responsibility for the fire if you've been away for a few years and had nothing to do with the place.
pretty much the entirety of simba's motivation for the rest of the film is "oh hey, my uncle murdered my dad and lied to me about it, I'm pissed and want revenge". it isn't "my uncle's a terrible ruler who brokered a deal with a rogue faction that completely decimated the land". pride lands came after all that, the whole "well, there's a lack of power here... might as well" that is his ascension. a powerful moment, but basically "dad did, dad gone, uncle terrible but uncle gone... guest it me."
look, it's a gorgeous film with some of my favorite orchestrated pieces for it ("king of pride rock's" ascension sequence is one of the most triumphant pieces of music I've ever heard) but if you ever hear me say simba's a himbo, THIS is why.
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houseofdonald · 11 months
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How to piss off an #Aries?
Never express an opinion, preference or idea. When they ask you questions about yourself, DO NOT give a substantial answer. One-up them. Whatever they do, do it just a little bit better, and make sure to gloat a little.
DENY THEM A REMATCH.
How to piss of a #Taurus?
Borrow something they like and destroy it (3 times is a charm.) Change everything around them, and keep things in constant flux. Don’t let them buy brand name items, or eat at expensive restaurants, and make them exercise a lot. INTERRUPT A DAILY RITUAL.
How to piss of a #Gemini?
REFUSE to be their “friend”, don’t talk to them. Deny them any opportunity to talk about anybody. Make frequent use of the phrase: “We weren’t talking about that!”.
Be closed-minded to the extreme. Make them do something that THEY THINK IS STUPID.
How to piss of a #Cancer?
Make off-handed remarks intended for them to take personally. Hurt their feelings, don’t apologize & refuse to validate their feelings. Yell at them for being oversensitive until they cry - then yell at them for crying. Speak unfavorably about their MOTHERS.
How to piss of a #Leo?
Refuse to play into their drama, and walk away from them. Don’t give them the time of the day. Isolate them in a room. Interrupt them while they’re speaking, or steal the spotlight. BE STINGY WITH AFFECTION/ATTENTION. Give them a cheap gift.
How to piss of a #Virgo?
Keep everything in disarray, and constantly change the way things are done. Don’t let them do things “their way”. Dress sloppy, and slur your words. MESS UP THEIR LIVING SPACE. Switch around their furniture or small items, and watch the compulsion begin.
How to piss of a #Libra?
Refuse to cooperate with them, but at the same time, don’t make any decisions. Let them drift between indecision and isolation. Take away their beauty products. Lavish gifts and comforts on everyone but them. Treat them or one of their friends UNFAIRLY
How to piss of a #Scorpio:
Don’t have sex with them. Pretend like you’re keeping something from them, or pretend you’re better than they are. Refuse to listen to their problems and negate their emotional reactions. JUDGE THEM HARSHLY and be unforgiving, while being HYPOCRITICAL.
How to piss of a #Sagittarius:
Disagree with what they say without a reason. Start a rumor about them. Don’t let them think outside the box. Be perpetually offended by someone or something, particularly if it’s harmless. Call them a liar. Don’t allow them to WALK AROUND.
Want to piss off a #Capricorn?
Work them to the bone, don’t compliment them, refuse to compensate them for it and then fire them! Liquidate their estate too. Question their authority. Remind them that they’re not the boss or that they have a boss. Degrade their SOCIAL STATUS.
Want to piss off an #Aquarius?
Have them listen to all of your petty problems, and dramatize them. Or ask them what they’re doing everyday and insist they should be doing something else. Ignore their ideas; even ridicule them. Take away their books and lock them in a room alone
Want to piss off a #Pisces?
TOTALLY IGNORE THEM. Swear that creativity is poisoning an otherwise smoothly functioning society. Deny the existence of a soul. They tend to misinterpret any kind of criticism as a personal attack. They have paranoid streak as well. #TheMoreYouKnow
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loki-cees-all · 10 months
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Prologue - Take This All Away {TLTGYA - Post!TVA Loki x OFC Longfic}
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Cee's Loki Fic Masterlist / TLTGYA Masterlist / A03 Link / Next Chapter
Summary : It’s just a compulsion to steal the TemPad, and it’s just a habit to flee. The timelines have split, the TVA is in disarray, the threat of He Who Remains is insurmountable - and Loki is just so fucking done with it all.
W/c : 816 words
Content / Warnings : Heavy angst
Author's Note : For the lovely and talented @infinitystoner as a result of the Musical Ask Game. Enjoy, my friend <3
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⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰
That was it. That was the final straw. 
The words echoed throughout his mind in an endless loop as his feet carried him along the hallways of the TVA. Sweat and blood clung to his tattered uniform, mercilessly reminding him of his repeated and incessant failures. 
It seemed he would never escape that paradigm as nameless hunters and analysts slammed past him, eager to fix the motion of events he had set into place. 
Loki recognized one or two of them as they barked orders to the others, and he considered screaming at them that there wasn’t a point any longer. 
But they weren’t the same ones as before, were they? And they wouldn’t have listened to him, even if they were.
The image of Mobius’ and B-15's bewildered faces as they took him in, as they tried to decipher the meaning of his warning, still burned into his eyelids. 
With the timelines jumbled together, and with the threat of He Who Remains and his variants staring him in the face, there wasn’t - ironically enough - time to convince them of his worth. Again.
Just when he had been making headway, just when he was finding his footing at long last, the rug was yanked out from under him. Like it was always meant to do.
It was easy enough to bewitch the closest things he had to friends after they’d called for backup. The decision to bewitch them at all so he could escape had been the agonizing one. 
The TVA’s hallways seemed endless, more so than the other times he had been dragged through them under heavy guard. He almost wished to be a prisoner again, to have this not be his problem anymore. 
But it would always be his problem. It was his curse, his pain, his fury - and he was so goddamn sick of it all. 
Eventually, Loki found himself in front of the armory. Time Sticks, helmets and shields were strewn haphazardly across the floor after it was ransacked by Hunters desperate to do their jobs. 
The ones they had been programmed to do. The ones that didn’t matter anymore.
The urge to destroy everything in the room was a massive, vehement one. But it was too much effort, and its effect would be meaningless anyway. 
As Loki turned to drift on, an object in the corner of the room caught his eye. The silver and wood grain stuck out among the black armor on the floor, dropped and forgotten in the midst of the chaos. 
Was it a beacon of hope, or was it another illusion?
His limbs pushed him forward before he even realized what he was doing, and his hands grasped the TemPad before he could stop himself. 
Where would he even go? Dare he try returning to Asgard, his home? But it hadn’t ever been his home. Not really. 
His lungs tightened in his chest as he stared at the most powerful object the TVA had. Loki wasn’t even sure if the TemPad would still work as his fingers tapped mindlessly on the screen.
Maybe he could try Jotunheim. He could probably convince the few remaining Frost Giants to let him lead them back to glory without even breaking a sweat. And it would be so easy…
He cursed and shook his head. That plan would only lead him to the dungeons of Asgard, and Odin would be more than happy to keep him locked there forever under his thumb. Loki would rather be dead than trapped within that particular form of misery. 
Ultimately, he knew it wouldn’t matter where or when he went. In spite of his centuries of painful existence, every decision he made was the wrong one.
Loki believed there was nothing he could do to escape himself. He had tried, many times, to no avail. Each time he had ended up worse than the attempt before, whether by his own flesh or one akin to it. 
But that was before the timelines had broken free. There was no sinister figure calling the shots any longer. Could he try, one more time, to escape that fate?
That question remained unanswerable even as the interdimensional portal opened before him. Its glowing amber reflected off his disillusioned and resigned features as he hesitated.
The absence of crimson around the Time Door did nothing to assuage his fear - it would be a time loop whether he wanted it to be or not.
But this time, he didn’t know where or when he was going, and that was the point. The less he knew, the less he could screw up. 
Perhaps he would try apathy for awhile. Even if it didn’t save him, at least it would be less effort.
And maybe, just maybe, this would be the last time he had to flee. 
Even Loki didn’t believe his own lie as he disappeared through the portal into the unknown. 
⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰
Tag List : @infinitystoner @sarahscribblesss @lunarnights95
Click here to be added to my Loki fic tag list! 💚
Cee's Loki Fic Masterlist / TLTGYA Masterlist / A03 Link / Next Chapter
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marveldiaries · 5 months
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🥀 angst | ☁️ fluff | ✨ faves | 🔥 smut
🪐 already on notes | 🍂 to be read
Loki 2
By andsheloved
All I wanted 🥀☁️ - When loki finds himself finally being accepted by the rest of the team, you begin to wonder what your relationship really meant to him.
a worthy try ☁️🥀✨ - loki reflects on all that you are, and how maybe one day, all that he is may be good enough to have you.
Little spoon 🍂
I really like your hands 🍂
gift giving ☁️✨
please tell me how to fix it. i miss you. ☁
this love, is it really worth it? 🥀☁️
fake dating ☁
can't say i love you ☁️
clingy loki ☁✨
asking for hugs ☁️🥀✨
loki is in love ☁️
i could’ve lost you ☁️🥀✨
it’s you, it was always you 🍂
mr. & mrs. smith ☁️ - after a new member is introduced to the team, loki begins to imagine a life beyond the tower, not unlike many times before, but his daydream receives an interesting addition, you.
By sarahscribbles
For the first time ☁🔥 - You finally sleep with Loki for the first time.
He finds you asleep 🔥
Warming him 🔥
Stay Here One More Time ☁️ - On the anniversary of the Battle of New York, Loki discovers he has someone on his side.
Do I Haunt Your Mind? 🥀☁ - You finally work up the courage to confess your feelings to Loki, but it goes badly wrong. 
Tiny Blessings 🥀☁✨ - After Frigga’s death, you find a way into the dungeons to comfort her broken son.
Back In Your Arms 🍂 - Loki arrives back at the compound, and back in your arms, after the battle with Thanos.
I love you ☁️ - Loki saying ”I love you” for the first time.
Waking up next to Loki 🍂
Call you mine 🔥☁
Even gods get sick ☁✨ - You care for your love when he gets a sudden summer cold.
Holding him 🥀☁✨ - Loki wanting some cuddles from his gf after a rough day.
Moments of magic ☁ - You bring Loki two gifts to mark his birthday. One a magical object and the other your heart.
By liminalpebble
Stray 🍂 one | two | three | four | five | six | seven - It's 1971 and you're a single shop girl living in the tumultuous, often damp, city of Seattle, feeling lost and alone. Meanwhile, Loki (under the guise of D.B. Cooper) is on the run from Thor the moment he jumped out of that plane. After crash landing in a dumpster and disguising himself as a stray cat to lay low, he becomes your beloved feline room mate and an unusual friendship begins to grow.
By swan-of-sunrise
Spellbinding 🍂 - A chance encounter at the New York Public Library marked the beginning of (Y/N) and Loki’s friendship, but they would soon learn that they shared more in common than their love of literature.
By infinitystoner
Always forever ☁️ - When a mission goes wrong, there’s only one person whose comfort you crave.
Box of rain 🍂 one | two - After the universe plummets into chaos, you find yourself working alongside a merry band of misfits who’ve made a home for themselves in Tønsberg, Norway. When a harrowing incident occurs, Loki is forced to confront his feelings.
By unlucky-number-13
Fire eyes 🍂 - Loki’s back in the TVA after the events at the Citadel, and no one remembers who he is. He’s feeling lost, not sure where to go or what to do next, and he’s got a new coworker who’s complicating his life even further. When she starts somehow triggering hallucinations, it’s a race against time to uncover the truth behind them before his own deceptions are uncovered.
Blood & Flowers 🍂 - When the insufferable Prince Loki casts a spell that causes flowers to bloom on your skin whenever he's injured, you can't even begin to fathom how it will turn your world upside down.
By loki-cees-all
The Little Things Give You Away 🍂 - It’s just a compulsion to steal the TemPad, and it’s just a habit to flee. The timelines have split, the TVA is in disarray, the threat of He Who Remains is insurmountable - and Loki is just so done with it all.
By give-me-a-moose
Indulgence 🥀✨☁️ - Loki sees his hunger as a weakness, something to be starved. Not to be indulged.
No expert ☁️ - Loki ends up in the medbay and you swear you're gonna kill him.
Sketchy ☁️ - You struggle to find inspiration and Loki proves to be a wonderful muse.
Errands 🍂 - Loki must undergo the most harrowing trial on Midgard…Grocery shopping. 
By asgardwinter
Out of the window 🍂🪐 - Loki always blocked everyone out and he was fine living like that. Then you appeared in his way and decided to throw his rules out of the window.
Crumpled words ☁️ - Those words were all he had from you, and he’d keep them safe and locked away in the darkness.
Love again ☁️ - You swore you’d never love again then met him five minutes later. Feelings just don't work that way.
Traditional 🍂 - Loki finds out some midgardian traditions that he had no idea about, and he likes it very much.
Who needs electricity? ☁ - When the power goes out, Loki learns about your fear of the dark and uses a few tricks to make it better.
Stay here with me 🍂 - All Loki ever needed to calm down was you.
Ambient analysis ☁ - You like Loki, Loki doesn’t like you. At least that’s what a little bird told you.
Unkind 🥀☁✨ - Loki was always joking about you being one silly mortal until one day he wasn’t.
Breathless 🍂 - He’d make you breathless just in order to find his air.
A promise sealed with light ☁️ - It was news to him, having someone around that came up with such things as plans for the future.
Wearing Loki's hoodie ☁️
Would you kiss me if I asked you? 🍂 - How could you convince Loki you meant every drunk word you said to him?
I can't have it any other way ☁ - He only wanted to know if you were going to stay.
By lokisgoodgirl
A Prince's Release 🔥✨
By lokidreaming
The night before Valentine’s Day. 🔥✨
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paper-star-ships · 8 months
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Baby Steps (TSFF)
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Summary: A little fic I wrote about Ethan's hands and how he doesn't take care of them 💔TuT
Warnings: Vivid descriptions of hand/nail damage, talks of self care (and lack thereof), trauma, mentions of gore/gore-y imagery
🔪❤🔪❤🔪❤🔪❤🔪❤🔪❤🔪❤🔪
Ethan had lovely hands, according to Filly. 
They’d been mercilessly battered in the past couple years; the right hand cut off and reattached below the wrist, the left stabbed through with a screwdriver and later robbed of the pinky and ring fingers by the jaws of a beast. Karl had, supposedly, been working to make some prosthetic fingers as a sort of apology, but that idea had yet to come to fruition (Filly still marveled at how quickly Rose had been able to tame him anyway; she and Ethan might’ve been dead otherwise). 
So, for now at least, his hands remained in total disarray–a scar-slashed testament to his time in Dulvey and Romania.
Still, Filly thought they were lovely. Bigger and thicker than her own hands and fingers, and still as strong as they’d always been. She held them like fine art whenever she was able, turning them over and threading her fingers through his with hungry eyes and delicate touches. She did so now, only now she frowned at the sight of them.
Filly sat on the floor, first to watch Rosemary play, then to watch her fall asleep on the carpet, leaning back against the recliner Ethan was sitting in, thumbing softly over the bones of his right hand in silence only broken by the sitcom playing unnoticed on the television. 
“Your hand is all torn up.” She said, the frown and furrowed brow evident in her voice. The skin was rough from lack of care and gun training, the nails absentmindedly bitten, the cuticles picked at until thin red lines framed several of his nails. 
“Are they? I didn’t notice.” The sarcasm was almost hidden under layers of grogginess; he’d quickly started to fall asleep once Rosemary had dozed off, knowing that Filly would be there to watch over her until he woke up again.
“I meant your nails, smart-aleck.” She said, “Your skin and cuticles are all but ruined. Why don’t you take care of your hands?”
The question was met with a half-tired, half-apathetic shrug. There were better things to worry about–more important things.
Her frown deepened at the lack of response, and she shifted to lift herself onto her knees to gesture for his other hand. “Give it here,” 
“If you don’t like that one,” He grunted, moving to give her his left hand in all its three-fingered glory. “You’re not gonna be happy with this one.” 
The joke was about the lack of fingers, but the roughness of the skin and painful look of the nails did make her unhappy. 
“Ethan.” 
The tone made him sit back up, suddenly a bit more awake. 
“You’ve got to take care of yourself.” 
“I know.” He said quietly. They’d had this conversation too many times for him not to know. “I’m sorry sweetheart. I’ll do better.” 
The words sounded scripted, and Filly huffed indignantly when she heard them. “Stay here.” 
Then she was up and gone, tip-toeing on the stairs so Rosemary wouldn’t wake from her impromptu nap on the floor. While she was gone, Ethan leaned heavily onto his knees and looked over the hands for himself. True to her word, they were calloused and dry, palms blistered in places. The nail of his right pointer finger was cracked down the middle, though he couldn’t remember that happening, and the skin of his fingertips was frayed upwards in broken strips. Biting his nails was a habit he’d developed after Dulvey; a compulsive need when he drifted off into thinking about the Bakers, and the mold. Since then it’d become a common occurrence (his ‘default fidget’, Filly called it once). 
Ethan didn’t like his hands very much, and he only half understood Filly’s fascination with them. 
He felt much the same about her hands, after all, though he liked them for all the opposite reasons. Filly’s hands were small, with thin fingers and dainty wrists. They were dutifully taken care of, nails clipped short and filed, palms moisturized and tended to. It seemed as though they’d gone in opposite directions after Dulvey–in more ways than one. Where he’d started biting his nails, she’d started filing them more and painting them less. Where he’d stopped taking care, she’d started taking better care. Where he’d ceased paying attention to the appendages painted with reminders of the Baker house, Filly had paid them special attention, on both their accounts. 
He wondered how she did that. Didn’t it come naturally, the need to forget? To ignore, to bury? He had assumed so, though he supposed he’d never asked.  
When she returned, her footsteps just as hurried and hushed as before, she was holding a nail kit and a bottle of hand lotion. Ethan greeted her with a smile and a raised brow as she hurried closer. “Are you sure all this is necessary?”
She didn’t answer, setting her supplies down on the table and turning back with a determined glint in her eye. “Lean back.” 
He did so without question, as he always did when she gave him sudden and unexplained commands. Strange, he thought, that he never questioned her until after the fact. It was a fascination about the sound of her voice, or the look in her eyes, and took a couple minutes to fade. She climbed into his lap once he leaned back, reaching over to slather hand lotion on her hands before leaning back into his chest. 
“Give me your hands.” 
He did. Dutifully, and as though it was a job she’d done many times before, she rubbed the lotion in soothing circles on his hands, thoroughly going over every callous and scar staining his skin. For a few moments he just watched her thin fingers rub hypnotizing circles into his palms, marveling at how much smaller her hands looked in his own.
“What are you doing?” He spoke quietly when the spell wore off. Curiosity was back at the forefront, shooing away the dizzying fascination with her voice and motivations. He wanted the silence to last a little longer. 
“If you don’t take care of yourself, then I will.”
Ethan knew he wasn’t being made to feel guilty. Filly simply didn’t operate that way; she was too happy to take care of the people she loved. Still, he couldn’t help but feel that the effort was wasted on him and his battered hands. 
“Filly… you don’t have to do this-”
“I want to do this.” 
“But-” 
“Ethan.” She turned to look at him over her shoulder, her expression desperately stern. “Let me take care of you, please.”
The words were thick with something heavy and unsaid, and Ethan leaned back in spite of himself to let her do as she pleased. She went back to work, but her shoulders stayed tense as she focused on the task. In the ensuing silence, he found his brow furrowed with confused concern. 
“Fil-” 
“You don’t take care of yourself.” She said, knowing already the question he wanted to ask. “You spend all your time worrying about me. About Rose.”
His response was harsher than he meant for it to be. “Surely that’s understandable? After everything that’s happened?” 
She paused, glancing back at him to be sure he wasn’t actually hurt. When she found he wasn’t, she reached for a cuticle pusher and spoke a little quieter. “You can’t take care of either of us if you don’t take care of yourself.” 
Frustration manifested in the sudden curling of fists and furrowed brow. “I know that, I just-” He sighed a sigh laden with the kind of exhaustion that sleep couldn’t fix. “I just… can’t.” 
When his hands curled away, Filly set her own hands in her lap and leaned back to curl up against him with a withered breath. The silence hung in the air like an icicle. Cold, and sharp. “I know this is… hard.” 
“It’s fucking impossible.” He corrected in a hiss. 
“...But you worry me sometimes, Ethan.” She didn’t turn to look at him, but the exhaustion in her voice–so like his own in its impossibly incurable nature–made something click. 
For as long as he’d known her, Filly had been easy to stress, and weak to its effects. The slightest thing could set her off at times, and she had a tendency to keep those things bottled up until they exploded into breakdowns and burnout. College had been hell for her, he recalled. The process of dropping out had almost been worse. 
In the interim between bickering, while he thought about what he was going to say, she picked up his right hand and got back to work. It felt more like a mindless fidget now though; something to take the edge off. 
Ethan didn’t like thinking that he’d created that edge. He didn’t like thinking he caused her any sort of stress. She didn’t deserve it. None of them did, after all they’d been through. 
He set a hand (the one not actively being worked on) on her arm and started to rub little circles into her with his thumb. A pregnant pause sat at the beginning of his next couple words. 
“...I’m sorry.” His voice was soft as he spoke, staring tiredly at the messy brown curls facing him. “You’re right. I’ll…” A sigh escaped him, heavy with exhaustion that didn’t weary his bones so much as scramble his thoughts. “I’ll try, for you-” He leaned a bit to glance around her, watching Rosemary sleep soundly on the carpet. “-for both of you.” 
Filly released a breath, and her shoulders relaxed, if only a little. She dragged a thumb down the length of the back of his hand, before shifting to lean her head back and stare at him. She said nothing for a moment, just held up the little tool in her hands, a silent request for his other hand. He obliged, wrapping the newly freed arm snug around her waist.
“Ideally you’d take care of yourself for you.” She pointed out, with no real bite or aching concern this time. 
He sighed again, this time a little overdramatically to try and make her laugh as he pressed his lips to her shoulder. “Let’s not get overzealous here, hm?” 
She smiled, letting out a breath through her nose and leaning her head back a little. “Baby steps.” She agreed quietly. 
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monocytogenes · 7 months
Text
(belated) WIP Wednesday
Tagged by @theluckywizard!
I recently acquired a gaming laptop and have been back on my SWTOR bullshit, so I've been going through some older writing and working on fics with my imp agent Pravin! (His main fic is here, which is more or less "the agent Shadow of Revan mission but make it a heist.")
I have a lot of headcanons about how the denouement of Chapter 2 goes in his timeline, including that he has a bit of a freakout, tells Shara he's resigning and fucks off for a while. He reconnects with Vector, who ends up being a very needed voice of sanity and convincing him to go back.
So yeah, here's a bit from Vector's perspective, where Pravin's explaining to Vector what the hell happened to him. (Vector doesn't know his actual name here--I have this whole idea that agents have operating names before they earn their numbers to keep their true identities totally unmentioned, so the moment where he drops a first name is a shocked reference to Pravin's operating name.)
Spoilers for the imperial agent story; warnings for mental horror stuff and drug use.
Down a musty corridor with sagging paneled walls, the sconces coated in dirt and bugs, he found the room and pressed the bell. A mechanical ping sounded.
Nine cracked it open immediately. “Back up.”
Vector retreated a step. He leaned out just enough to scan Vector’s surroundings; the glint of a blaster’s barrel catching the light. Satisfied, he released the handle, wordlessly ushering his friend inside.
The room was cramped, outfitted with a bed, a refresher and a kitchenette consisting of little more than a sink and a cooktop. The bedsheets were tossed about in a tangle; discarded clothes were strewn across the floor, and the remains of carryout containers filled the counter. Vector’s eyes widened in concern; Nine had never been a compulsively tidy person, but this level of disarray was unlike him.
Then there was the man himself, depositing his pistol on the nightstand and taking a seat on the limp mattress. He was clad in a short-sleeved undershirt, one of those issued with civil service uniforms, and his left arm was done up in a cast held in place by a sling. His sleep pants, sporting a lively geometric pattern, hung loose on his hips; he seemed gaunt, cheeks sunken beneath a layer of stubble. Unkempt curls tumbled about his brow; as he swept them back with his hand, his forehead shone with a sheen of damp.
He smelled sour with perspiration, tinged with sickly-sweet kolto and an edge of something sharper. Vector’s gaze slid to the nightstand. Emptied stim syringes lay atop torn-open packages of dressings, set beside a half-filled pouch of glittery spice.
“Stars,” he breathed. “Cipher—”
“Can you double-check that’s locked?” Nine interrupted, pointing at the door.
Vector turned, examining the lock, then glanced back at his friend. “Arnav, what in the galaxy happened to you?”
Nine opened his mouth and shut it again, his hand curling into a fist in his lap. “...I left Intelligence.”
“You did what?” Vector strode up and dropped onto the bed, his killik companion crawling out onto his shoulder in alarm. “Why?”
“They fucked me over,” Nine spat, the fuzzy edges of his aura sparking. “Those sons-of-scum stabbed me in the back. I just spent two months in a living nightmare because apparently I was too fucking good at my job, too fucking competent to be trusted—”
“You were—what is it called? Burned?”
“No.” Nine gave a humorless laugh. “No, no, I was...I was raped. Mentally. You know how they experiment on prisoners, and—how do I even kriffing—”
He wiped at his nose, searching for words. “You ever had sleep paralysis? Where you wake up partially and you’re seeing things going on around you, and you can’t move?”
“We know of this, yes.”
“That, but you’re fully awake. They tell you to stay, and you’re frozen. They tell you to go, and—” He swallowed. “You’re trapped in your head watching it happen. Can’t even scream.”
He looked towards the wall. “SIS got the trigger word. I don’t know how—one of them’s on the lam, they’re saying he’s got some other allegiance—but frankly, I don’t give a kark. For my part, I’ve fixed it; I took a hit of the chemicals and rewired my own brain because I had no other choice. And no amount of begging on Keeper’s part is going to change the fact that the people whom I trusted, the people whose job it was to be my lifeline, to be there for me whilst I’m running about hostile territory, doing what they don’t even have the guts to do, put me in that position.”
His voice caught; he motioned frenetically at himself. “I gave them six years, Vector. Six years of my life! I was loyal, I was good, I saved thousands of people, and this—this is how they repay me. Fine work, Cipher, you piece of rubbish. None of that meant anything at all.”
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