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#I tried so hard to make this man flat by the way heLP. I’ve noticed I tend to lean to giving ppl wider hips by default
psychotecha · 2 years
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Title: Escalation Inevitable Pairing: Kid x Law Prompt: 9. Law gets sick, caretaker Kid Notes: Entry for one of the KidLaw Summer event put on by @kidlawevents. I’ve got a lot of drabbles to put up and then there’s the things I started for other prompts but am still working on.
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It's a cold. Nothing serious or chronic, and most certainly nothing to be worried about at all. Law is perfectly fine and can manage a simple cold by himself without any help at all.
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“Throw me over the side now,” Law says, voice thin and wavering as he looks out the nearest porthole to the more merciful and cold sea. “I demand to die with dignity.”
A cold and hard hand grips him by the back of the neck, and Law is helpless to stop himself from being picked up and dumped back in the bed he’d just fought his way out of. Kid looks down at him absolutely unimpressed. “I don’t want to hear your bitching. You’re a doctor, you should know how this goes.”
The bed jumps under the weight of Kid dropping down to sit next to Law. The large fingers of his metal arm spreading out over Law’s chest and using an insultingly little amount of force to keep him flat. Law bites back a cough and glares defiantly up at Kid. “I am a doctor, and I am perfectly fine.”
Law spits out the last few words through his teeth, hoping the rasp as the cough tries to escape will go unnoticed. Futile, he knows, because Kid is stubborn and not as stupid as most believe him to be. Law still tries though because he is sick. He knows he’s sick, and he hates the way that makes him feel. The way he loses control of his body a thing that feels all too familiar to him even after all these years.
The fever, the pain, the weakness almost feel like they never left him at times. All that’s missing is the faint taste of iron on the back of his tongue and Cora fretting over him at every wince or hitch of breath and he’ll be a kid dying of something incurable again.
Law is almost grateful to have Kid around despite the damage he’d done to Law’s door to get in. The man is mean and practical in a way that Law won’t ever be able to mistake as anyone else even if his fever spikes up enough to make him delirious.
“Fine my ass,” Kid presses down harder and the increased restriction rips the cough out of Law. He curls up slightly under the force of the deep, wracking outburst. Eyes squeezing tightly shut until it ends and he lays there panting. Kid, the utter ass, rolls his eyes as he lets up. “You're so fine your own crew had to call me in because you’re running yourself to the ground for no damn reason, and they’re too weak to pin you down.”
Traitors. They must have been planning this for days. Kid had taken off for the East weeks ago so turning back to find Law’s submarine would have taken time and effort on the part of both vessels. It's one of the clearest signs showing how out of it he is that he'd never noticed the change of direction or the multitude of lies everyone has been feeding him lately.
Law will bet anything it was Shachi who spearheaded this little mutiny. He’d been the most vocal crewmate the past few days about Law getting some rest. Laying down, wrapped up in a blanket, and sipping hot tea like they don’t have a time sensitive agenda they’re running behind on. Law sets the question of what to do about that aside for later consideration. For when he doesn’t have Kid manhandling him in a way that is entirely too patronizing for Law to enjoy.
“I have a cold, not a death sentence,” Law says when he finally gathers his breath enough to speak. His voice is louder and stronger now that his throat has been temporarily cleared. “They’re simply overreacting.”
“You’re one of those people, aren’t you?” Kid asks. A rhetorical question as he doesn’t bother elaborating or waiting for an answer. He’s up and across the cabin in two strides. Grabbing a sack near the door that rattles before returning. “Alright, you’re taking one of each of these,” pill bottles fall to the bed and Law recognizes from the label that they’re from his own infirmary, “and I dare you to refuse.”
Kid is grinning at Law as he stands above him with arms crossed over his chest. The sharp and bloodthirsty grin he gets when he’s about to violently rearrange the world to suit his whims. It’s often the last thing people see before being crushed by a wall of scrap metal. It’s a threat and a promise that Law will be taking the medicine. Willingly or not, and Kid will not at all be upset if it’s the latter.
Law takes a slow, deep breath –as deep as his beleaguered lungs and clogged sinuses will let him– and fixes Kid with his own look. The cold one that has cowed countless marines and stupid pirates over the years, and followed more than a few foolish people to their graves. The pills are the correct ones for his symptoms, and he would have eventually retrieved them himself. He knows how to treat a cold after all.
But he’ll be damned if he lets himself be ordered to do it by Kid of all people. Occasional ally and more frequent lover or not, Law will not roll over so easily. He pulls on his power and throws a Room up as he surges off the bed. “Don’t tell me what to do!”
~
Bepo watches the Polar Tang rock in the sea more erratically than the choppy waters can account for. The occasional blue flash of a Room flickering unsteadily through different portholes all the explanation needed for what is happening inside. There is no sound to be heard except for when the water displaced by the Tang crashes against the hull of the Victoria Punk. “I’m sorry, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.”
“You’re about three days late for that,” Penguin snorts from where he leans up against the rail beside Bepo watching the fight going on below them. His chin propped on his hands and hat tilted just right to block the last glares of the sun as it slowly sets.
“If you were just going to regret it you shouldn’t have called for backup, Bepo,” Shachi chimes in from his seat on the deck. Not nearly as interested in what’s going on between the two captains as he is with figuring out how to best cheat Heat out of the card game they’ve been playing since the crew boarded the Victoria for their own safety.
“Hm,” Killer hums, a near silent agreement from Bepo’s other side. The masked man gives off an air of amusement as the Tang rocks violently to one side, close to rolling, and Bepo cries out in alarm. He pushes away when the submarine rights itself with a wobble and flicks at one of Bepo’s ears. “Captain’ll get yours sorted. No need to stand here and worry over them.”
“I’m sorry!” Bepo rubs his ear and gives one last look over the railing before turning away to join the rest of his crewmates. Killer is right after all. It’s already been done and worrying about what might happen is useless, especially when he’s been promised there’s honey mead somewhere on the ship.
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starstruck-critter · 2 years
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i did a little fake statement for my tma oc (not the statement giver, the roachy guy hehe). i think it turned out pretty cool so im posting it here hehe. i fucking love writing about the Corruption, i love me some buggies
Statement of Karine Petros regarding a pest infestation in her current place of residence.
STATEMENT BEGINS
I guess i’ll start by telling you a little bit of my life, just for y´know, a little bit of context. Maybe it’ll help you find a reason why this all happened, why it happened to me in particular. I used to be an undergrad student, a-uh-psychology major. Had to quit after a few years in though, it all just got too much. I felt like I couldn't study for even the things I really liked, organization was a nightmare, and on top of all that, I didn't manage to make a lot of friendships with the people there. So i just.. quit, there was really not a lot left to do other than that. I tried to get a job, maybe get enough money for a cheap flat somewhere or a shared house, but it turned out to be almost virtually impossible.
I had to move back in with my parents. They had sold the house I used to live in when I was younger for a smaller one. I guess they thought i would never return, heh, that i was going to stay in those musty dorms until i finished my studies and then move out into a grand old mansion. I don’t blame them, I had big dreams for me too, but they just all had to crumble down to pieces. They welcomed me in regardless, although I did notice a small flicker of disappointment in their faces when I waltzed in through the door. The only room available for me was a small basement room that they had used as a storage room until now. It was humid and warm, on top of being just a few square feet long, but it was better than nothing.
I got comfortable in there, I've got to admit it. Too comfortable perhaps. I kept looking for a job or anything to make money with for a few days after settling in, but after a week or so I just gave up on it completely. It was really hard to find anything that would take me in and also not be the absolute pinnacle of boredom and my parents seemed to be doing just fine in their own finances even with me again under their belt. So I just stopped trying altogether, trying to do anything at all. I just stayed in that moldy basement room the whole day, doing nothing at all, and watching time fly by, watching my life fly by. That mediocre and undistinguished thing that called itself my life at least.
That was when I saw him, when I was coming back from one of the super rare occasions where I actually decided to go take a walk outside. He looked like a homeless man, just your local hobo, covered in ragged clothes and with the dirtiest hair u can imagine, and he was just sitting there, almost at our doorstep, looking sadly at the ground. If I focused hard enough on his skin and clothes, I swear I could see things twitching beneath, like little lumps moving around every single part of his body. Once or twice I could even see the slightest hint of brown things coming out from behind him, though I can't really place what the hell they actually were, because the second I turned my gaze onto them, they scurried back into the shadows of his back. I think he noticed me staring, because he raised his head to look at me, and smiled. There were thin hair looking things coming out from the gaps between his teeth.
Now, I'm not one to be scared easily, especially not by little freaks on the street like him, but there was something so very wrong with him, that I just felt the need to run away and call the police. Still, I fought that urge for a little bit, there was probably a better way to deal with him and get him out of our porch than just calling the police on him. So i slowly approached, telling him, hell almost yelling at him, to find another place to waste his life in. I think he could hear the slight shaking on my voice. He waited until I was almost right beside him to finally decide to get up and go. Just before he did though, he clenched my wrist tightly, not letting go. That is when I noticed a thing crawling, quickly, all the way from behind his neck to his hand and onto mine; it was a cockroach, one slim brown little bastard. I screamed and pulled back the second it touched my arm and it fell straight to the floor. I swear I saw at least a dozen more of them coming for me from every single part of his body before I finally managed to get out of his grasp and run as fast I could.
I went back home and to my basement room a couple hours later, when I finally managed to calm down and make sure he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. After a couple days, I managed to almost forget what had happened and just kept living my unremarkable life as normal as possible, except maybe for a couple more cockroach sightings than normal. Living in such prime living conditions for those hellspawns, you managed to see them every once in a while, usually hiding behind furniture or in the creaks of a wall. But now they were starting to appear more and more often, usually standing in the middle of the room , for all the world to see. And they always showed up when they knew i couldn’t do anything to stop them being there, either because i was in bed or just distracted doing some meaningless task. Every single time I finally decided to stop what I was doing and try to kill them myself, it was always too late and they always managed to escape back into the shadows. I tried to ask my parents to buy any kind of pesticide or even call in an exterminator, but they didn’t really see the need for that, and I didn't have any money to actually do that myself. I don’t think it would have really worked either though.
It was a couple nights ago that it happened, the thing that actually made me want to come here and give a statement. I’m a very light sleeper, so any noise, as quiet as it can be, wakes me up. This was not a very pleasant noise to wake up too though. It sounded like a million of light steps on ground, too small and quiet to listen to if it was just one, but audible now just by sheer quantity. Like a hundred dozen things crawling slowly or quickly sometimes, bolting out until they were not able to be heard or meticulously walking on every surface that made their noises as loud as possible. And on top of all that cacophony there was twitching, the slow movement in place of wings opening, or antennas moving from side to side. I didn’t want to open my eyes, I knew what was on my ceiling, on the ground and all around me. I tried to stay still like that for as long as i could, maybe if i didn’t move, they were going to go away on their own, or someone was going to come in, and clean up all this mess. Maybe the world was going to solve itself without me moving a single finger. I could hear my breath, they could hear it too. And then I felt it, small and thin as a strand of hair, one leg coming up from the blankets into the exposed skin on my arm, and then another, and another. Six of them I counted, and then besides, a dozen. All moving slowly and feeling every single inch of my flesh.
I got up and bolted out of the door, into the house above, eyes still closed. I felt them in the handle when I opened the door. And all over me too, when I ran screaming to my parents bedroom. They didn’t believe me when I told them about the infestation. Maybe it was because when they actually came to check over me and my room, there was not a single roach in sight. Even though I can still feel them, crawling all over my body.
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ribbononline · 3 years
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It’s nearly two am here’s my input on the is it a onesie or not debate
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specialagentlokitty · 3 years
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Sherlock x Daughter!reader - look after yourself
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How are you going! Hope it’s good! Could you do a Sherlock x daughter reader? One where she is obsessed with making her dad proud (after mycroft says something about Sherlock never wanting kids) and she stops caring for herself like working too hard on cases forgetting to sleep eat. Spending free time on school work and experiments while the whole time Sherlock is extremely worried, he loves her no matter what so he tries to encourage her to eat but he doesn’t know how bad it is until she collapses into his arms on a crime scene? Then like he nurses her back to health? Sorry if this is way too much lol thanks anyway! - Anon💜
Having Sherlock Holmes as you father was a strange life. He adopted you when you were just a kid, finding you on one of his many cases, he somehow felt a connection with you and decided to adopt you.
While he was smart, cunning, observate. You found it hard to fill those shoes, yes, you were smart, but not in his level.
With your exams next year, you realised to walk in his path, you would have to ace them. So you spent a lot of time studying, one thing him and John never thought twice about.
You were sitting in the cafe next door, working on a report when someone sat at the table with you.
“Hey uncle Mycroft.” You smiled.
“Yes, hello child. Where is Sherlock?” He asked.
You shrugged a little, sipping your drink as you set your pen down.
“No idea, I’ve been here all morning. I haven’t seen him. Is he at the flat?”
“No, he’s not. I assumed as his child you would have known his whereabouts.”
“And I assume as his government brother you would be able to keep track of one man.” You smirked.
“You know, Sherlock never did want kids, but I can see his sarcasm is rubbing off on you. Let him know I stopped by please.”
Mycroft up and left after that statement and you sat there in shock.
Something about being told you father never wanted kids hit you, and you felt the need to prove yourself. You felt like you had to prove your worth to him.
At first it started off with staying up later to study or help with a case.
Then it was skipping meals and saying you were too busy working to do anything.
Sherlock didn’t notice the difference at first, but when he never saw you for a few days he began to worry.
“(Y/N) it’s our lunch day.” He said, walking into your room.
“Sorry dad, I’m busy with this experiment.”
He stood there, you didn’t look the same, you looked sick, tired.
“Are you eating enough? Sleeping?” He asked.
You flicked your gaze to him and went back to your paper, simply just nodding your head at him.
“Yeah dad! I’ve got food on the way right now.”
He couldn’t see any sign of you lying so he nodded and left, true to your word food did come, but you were so busy you forgot to eat it.
While Sherlock was pondering what to do, and how to approach the situation, Lestrade came running up the stairs, out of breath and in a hurry.
“We’ve got a case.”
“(Y/N) case!” Sherlock called.
“Yup!”
You came out of your room, slinging your coat over you as you made your way down the stairs.
“Is she okay?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” Sherlock mumbled, following you.
You guys got to the crime scene, and thankfully it wasn’t too far from the flat, so Sherlock could easily send you home if he needed to.
You went wondering around the place, looking for anything that didn’t belong while Sherlock met up with John and both of them went to look at the actual crime scene.
“John is there something wrong with (Y/N)?”
“I mean, aside from the fact that shes related to you?” The man chuckled.
Sherlock shot John a dirty look and instantly johns smile fell.
“Whats up with her?”
Sherlock explained everything to John while he examined the body.
“It sounds like she’s trying to prove something.” John said.
“The man was poisoned. What do you mean prove something?”
“Well, if someone’s said something, she may feel the need to prove them wrong about something. Also, it’s a really uncommon poison.”
Lestrade was trying to keep up with the conversation but he was already lost.
Sherlock and John left the room, finding you stood outside, writing stuff in a notebook.
“Oh dad, here I’ve got some-“
Before you could finished your sentace, your vision went black and your body fell. Thankfully Sherlock was right in front of you, so you simply fell against his chest.
“(Y/N)!”
Sherlock swept you up and wasted no time in running home.
He set you on your bed and looked you over, John wasn’t far behind.
“It’s nothing serious, just exhaustion taking over. Make sure she sleeps, and has something to eat and drink when she wakes up.”
Sherlock said nothing, he sat at your desk and stared to read what you were working on.
John came back, setting some paracetamol on the end of the bed before leaving.
Hours must of passed, he read through all your work, helped you on some homework, played a few games, and he was about to grab a drink when he saw you stir.
You slowly sat up, rubbing your eyes as you yawned.
You gently rubbed your head and opened your eyes, looking around.
The room was empty, but your father quickly came back in with a glass of water and held it in front of you, a sandwich in his other hand.
“Drink and take the paracetamol.”
You silently did, then went to stand but up, but you were quickly pushed back down and the sandwich was pushed in front of your face.
“Eat.”
“Dad I’m fine...” you mumbled.
“You passed you, you’ve been mistreating yourself for weeks now. Why? What are you trying to prove?”
You blinked, and opened your mouth before closing it again.
Your stomach rumbled so you took the food and started to nibble at it.
“I just wanted to make you proud...”
Sherlock sat on the end of your bed, staring out your window.
“I’m not proud of you.” He said.
Your heart shattered, and you nodded sadly, finishing your food. Then you just sat there, staring at your bedsheets.
“You’re treating yourself the way I treat myself. I’m not proud of you for that, you should be better.”
Sherlock got up, walking across the bed he sat next to you, folding his arms across his chest. You leant your head in his should and sighed.
“I’m proud of you when you look after yourself properly (Y/N).”
“I’m sorry dad...”
Sherlock said nothing at first, but then he spoke once more.
“I’m going to make sure you get your health back up, and so is John and Mrs Hudson.”
You nodded, closing your eyes as you curled up into a ball.
Sherlock looked at you briefly before he pulled out his phone, finding some things to occupy himself while he hummed a small tune under his breath.
You were quickly lulled back to sleep, quiet snores leaving you, filling the silent room.
Sherlock sent a quick message to his brother.
Sherlock: I’m going to kill you for what you made (Y/N) do.
With that, he put his phone away, resting his head on yours, he closed his eyes and drifted to sleep himself
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mandoalorian · 3 years
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Sinner [Dark!Din Djarin x F!Reader] *SMUT*
Summary: The Mandalorian has been attending confession for weeks now, with the sole intensive purpose to see you. 
Rating: 18+ smut
Warnings: Dark!Din, implied age difference, religion kink (don’t come for me...), sex in a place of worship, smut: loss of virginity, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, degradation, unprotected p in v, cunningless, death mention, alcohol mention, brothel mention. 
Word Count: 4000+
Masterlist
REBLOGS APPRECIATED!<3
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He’d been coming to confess for about a year now. He’d gone off the rails when he lost the kid. You’d heard rumours about the Mandalorian — strong, fierce, brave... a warrior. You certainly wouldn’t have pinned him for a man of faith. You’d seen him a few times when you were shadowing your father in church. He was tall, broad shouldered, and only came during the dead of night, when the abbey was completely isolated.
“Hello,” you greeted him, your soft voice echoing throughout the chambers. Your crimson red heels clicked against the marble floor beneath you as you approached the masked figure. Curtseying politely and removing your hood, you couldn’t help but bat your eyelashes in the direction the Mandalorian. “It’s quite late. I was just closing for the night.” you admitted, biting down on your lower lip in hope that he’d understand.
“I thought places of worship aren’t supposed to close?” He countered quizzically, an air of amusement in his voice. 
“You’re right, technically,” you hummed, picking at your nails as a wash of nerves flooded over you. “But my father is out of town and... I need to sleep.”
That’s where he recognised you from— you were the daughter of the Grand Bishop. He’d seen you before, doting around the abbey in your signature black gown and red robes. You were hard to miss, your beauty being beyond standards of measure. Yes, he knew you. He had noticed you watching him from the pillars above, when you thought nobody was looking. He noticed the way you’d deliberately brush past his body... desperate for just the slightest touch. He recognised your scent too; it was sweet like honey. And your ruby coloured lips. He’d dreamt of them plenty of times. It was really you.
“Where is he?” The Mandalorian asked after a beat of prolonged silence.
“He was requested by Senator Berenko to present evening mass on Naboo, for the Festival of Lights.” you explained, probably offering a little too much information.
“When will he be back?”
“Next week.”
“Well, I’ll be back then.” 
No, you couldn’t just let him leave. You couldn’t just let him walk away from you. This was your chance. In a fluster, you extended your arm and pawed at his bicep. He froze under your touch, and you hoped that you hadn’t overstepped. 
“Are— you’re here to confess. Aren’t you?” you asked him with a nervous gulp. Maker, why were you so nervous? The Mandalorian didn’t say anything, so you heeded to continue. “I’ve seen you come by before. I know you speak to my father usually but— I can do it. The confession, I mean. I’ve been shadowing my father for the past few months— training with him. I can do it. If... if you’d like me to.”
The Mandalorian took a moment to process your words. Maker; you were a sight to behold. Your eyes were starry and reflective of the galaxy he’d spent so long venturing. Your skin was soft and delicate. You were pure— untouched— holy. He was afraid the discussion of his sins might be a bit too much for you to handle. 
Or maybe there was something more.
Maybe he was afraid that once he’d start opening up to you, he wouldn’t be able to stop. He wouldn’t be able to resist you.
“Aren’t you a little young?” The Mandalorian scoffed incredulously, bringing his leather gloved hand to his helmet, his thumb grazing the cloth between his chin and his neck. His rude manner didn’t surprise you at all, but yet, you kept a strong posture and held your head high.
“I’m old enough.” you declared, not ripping your gaze from him once. Even through the dark tinted visor of his helmet, it felt like you were looking into his eyes, staring deep into his soul. 
So, he agreed. You told him to wait in the confession box by the altar. “I won’t be long, I just have to lock up and turn out the lights.”
As you walked down the aisle, you lit a match and ignited some candles. They were tall and made from beeswax, and the flicking amber flames provided barely enough light. But it had to be enough. It had to do. The wax dripped down the sculptures and chambersticks, pooling into swirls of hardening ivory. 
The Mandalorian waited for you in the confession box, having already discarded the plates of his beskar armour. It was hard to wear, and heavy on his back, but he felt safe… here, with you. He had no reason to be still wearing it. No more fighting tonight, he hoped.
The image of you couldn’t escape his mind, no matter how hard he tried. Dirty thoughts — it was wrong of him. You were the Grand Bishop’s daughter for Heaven’s sake.
When you entered your side of the confession box, your full intention was to follow the ordinary strict protocol. There was no reason for distraction.
“State your name for the records,” you requested, shuffling around as you worked on getting comfortable in your chair.
“Din Djarin.”
Din Djarin. It was a beautiful name. Your mind immediately went to pairing his last name with your first name, and then you cursed yourself for the inappropriate thought. 
“Din,” his name left your lips like the sweetest tasting honey. “Why are you here today? What would you like to confess?”
“I went to Corellia over the weekend,” he announced, his voice cold through the modulator. “The bad part— well, it’s all bad over there,” he corrected himself before continuing. “Got into some trouble gambling at Lady Proxima’s casino and a bunch of white worms surrounded me. So I killed them, all of them. I didn’t have to. But I did. I murdered them in cold blood.”
It was in that moment you learned how dangerous of a man The Mandalorian was. His beskar armour was just as cold as his heart.
“Wh— why did you kill them?” you asked timidly, almost afraid to know the answer.
“For the release. The adrenaline. The feeling of power. I can’t escape it. Have you ever killed?”
“N—no.”
Din scoffed incredulously. “Of course you haven’t.”
“What do you do after you kill?” you inquired, hoping to change the subject.
“Corellia has the best brothels… cheap too. I sought them out and look for a quick fuck.”
“Out of wedlock?” you pondered with a queasy frown.
Din laughed. “You’re asking if I’m married?”
He was right, it was a foolish question. 
“Do you enjoy your time at the brothel? Or do you regret it soon after?” you wondered.
Another laugh— and Maker, he made you feel terrible. Were you really that bad at this? 
“Yes, I enjoy myself. The girls there are pretty little things. Needy. Desperate. But— it’s not special, you know? It’s not… not exactly what I crave.”
“What do you crave?”
“To touch someone untouched. Pure. Holy…” the Mandalorian trailed off. “So, when I fuck the girls at the brothel, I tend to think of the Grand Bishop’s daughter.” He revealed, feeling his cock harden in the confines of his pants at the memory. You swallowed, a wave of heat immediately washing over you. You. He was thinking about you.
This was ridiculous. Was he messing with you? He had to have been messing with you. Sure, he’d seen you around before but neither of you had even held a conversation, prior to today. And he’d been thinking about you while he was sleeping with other women? You had to suck it up and remain professional, no matter how much it irked you. He was here to confess and you couldn’t let this become personal.
But it was so hard. Maker, why was it this hard? Was it because you’d thought about him too? Because you’d imagined his cock in place of your fingers, at night when everyone else is sleeping? You yearned to know more. You ached to know the details. Surely that was fair. He was speaking about you, after all.
You could already feel your panties begin to dampen with arousal. How could one man have such an effect on you? In your place of worship too. You wanted to punch him, kick him, take out all your anger on him. But most importantly, you wanted him. His touch. His hands on your body and his cock splitting you open. That’s what you wanted the most.
“What did— what did you think of?” You swallowed, anticipating the details. You were glad he couldn’t see how flustered and hot you were right now. It certainly wasn’t in the code for you to ask about details such as this but… surely one question would do no harm.
You could just about hear Din chuckle, from the other side of the wall, and it made your slick wet cunt clench around absolutely nothing. He was driving you feral. “I’d think about her ruby red lips and how they’d look wrapped around my cock. I’d imagine fucking her mouth, making her gag— wanting her to cry. I’d want to see the tears stream down her cheeks as I give her my all. And finally, I’d imagine her letting me cum down her throat.”
There was something about him talking about you, to you, in third person. Like you weren’t supposed to be there, listening. Like this information was not made for your ears.
Your panties were soaked at the thought. You couldn’t believe it. All this time, all these sessions of confession with your father, and it had only stirred him on more. He’d been going to confess, only to see you. 
“Tell me, princess. How does that make you feel?”
Shit. He could not be serious right now. You placed your palm flat against the wall and took a deep breath. “Mando, you’re here to confess. Not me.”
You tried to shut out his words, but your body ached for him. Ached to feel him… touch him. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you — but it would be wrong. It would be so wrong.
Another chuckle. You hated when he did that. As if all of this was some kind of joke to him. Did he even know what he was doing to you? It was like torture. 
“See, the Grand Bishop’s daughter… oh wow. She’s a vision. She dotes crimson red lips and she walks around as if she owns the place, her stiletto heels clicking against the floor. She’s bad, like the devil in disguise, and yet, I know her. She’s young and untouched. Her father will probably marry her off to some other minister in the outer-rim, ship her away for good. And she’ll be forced to deal with very mediocre sex for the rest of her life. Which is a shame, really, because she deserves better. You deserve better.”
“You have no idea who I am.” you spat out, feeling your cheeks burn with rage. How dare he make these assumptions about you and your family. This crude, older man with a tongue that could kill. How dare he. 
You wanted to be mad at him so bad. He couldn’t possibly get away with this. But he was going to. Because what exactly could you do? 
“She’ll never know how it feels to be stretched open by a real cock,” Din gritted out, dismissing your comment completely. “F—fuck.”
Din was palming himself through his pants, desperate for some kind of release. His sleuth, dirty words set a fire blazing in your core. You wanted it too. You wanted it so bad. You contemplated all the things you could do, all the actions and their consequences. You and the Mandalorian, both in the confession box. You couldn’t even see one another… the prolonged silence on your end prompted Din to get up and leave when he heard your honey velvet voice speak once more.
You had to say something.
“When the lights are out and everyone is asleep, I think about you,” you confessed, hating the way the croaky admission left your lips. You’d done it now. Din’s head snapped upwards to face the wall and oh how he wished he could see you right now. You were squirming around in your chair and when you heard the zipper of his pants become undone, you knew it was your queue to continue. “I touch myself. It’s hard to keep quiet… thinking about you. I imagine you touching me… running your gloved hands all over my body,” you bring your hand to your breast and give it a little squeeze. “I figure.. maybe you don’t take the gloves off. You praise me when you feel how wet I am, and I tell you that it’s all for you. I’m all yours. To use however you like. I want you to ruin me. Spoil me for any other man. Fuck me until I cant walk. Bite me, give me marks I have to hide during tomorrow’s mass.”
Din made a fist around his cock and began to pump as he listened to the dirty words that left your holy lips. His grunts and groans echoed throughout the box and went straight to your core. Oh how you wished you could see him right now. Peeling up the hem of your robe, you slid your fingers under the waistband of your panties and began to rub tight circles into your clit. 
“You’re a virgin?” he asked, although it came out more so like a statement. Like he already knew the answer. 
“Ye-yeah,” you whimpered, quickening your pace.
He was achingly stiff now, beads of milky white precum already dripping down his shaft.
“You want this?” He quizzed. “You want my cock right now? Think you deserve it?”
And in that moment, you made your decision.
Maybe this life that your father had given you, just wasn’t for you.
“Y-yes, oh God yes. I deserve it.”
A low and dark chuckle left Din’s lips. “You’ve been a child of God your whole life. But you want this, yes? You’ve been waiting for this?”
He was right. You had been waiting for this. 
“P-please Din, please. Wreck me. Ruin me.”
“In the chapel too?” he laughed, rising to his feet. “You really are desperate. C’mon then.”
In a fluster, you practically fell out of your side of the confession box.
The Mandalorian stalked towards you with his cock in his hand, jerking himself off as he got nearer and nearer. His eyes didn’t leave you once and although you couldn’t see his face, you could only imagine the predatory glint in his eye. Maker he was huge, and thick, and you wondered how you’d ever be able to take him.
You weren’t used to this— Maker, you’d never done anything like this before. There was no way your fingers would ever be able to compare to the size of the Mandalorian. 
“Are you sure you want this?” he grunted, releasing his cock and grabbing your throat, giving it an experimental squeeze. You nodded your head desperately and subconsciously licked your lower lip. “I must know. If I start, I won’t be able to stop. Do you want me to claim you?”
Just like Hades claimed Persephone? You shut the absent thought out of your mind and agreed to his proposition.
“I do.”
If it was so wrong, why did it feel so right? You had dreamt of this moment. How could you ever deny him? 
He pinned you against the altar and tapped at your thigh, gesturing for you to open your legs up. His eyes dropped straight to your dripping core and he had to hold back a guttural moan.
Din wasted no time and rubbed his cock along your slick wet folds. For a second you were afraid he’d knock over the many burning candles that you had lit earlier in the evening, before your little confession session had begun. But, to no surprise of your own, the Mandalorian had extremely good coordination. 
“Oh f-fuck, such a pretty little thing. So warm, bet— bet you feel so fucking good.” Din mumbled utterances of praise, his grip tightening around your wrists as he propped you up. 
Every now and again the bulbous tip of his cock rubbed over your clit and the sensation practically sent you into orbit. You were touch starved, having never experienced intimacy like this with anyone before. “Do you want me to fuck you now, huh? Want me to fuck that pretty little cunt of yours?”
You whimpered a small ‘yes’ and Din chuckled darkly, tapping his cock against your cunt before sliding into you with one swift movement.
You let out a squeal, your fingernails digging into the muscles of his back as he seated deep inside you. Underneath his helmet, his perfect lips were parted into an ‘O’ shape as your fluttering walls clenched around him and made him feel like he was home.
“Fuck— so tight, so fucking tight. Just like I’d imagined.” He murmured, feeling like he was already seeing stars. 
Din thrust upwards into you, the curve of his cock stretching you open and pulsating inside of you. His movements were rough and bruising, as his fingers dug into the soft flesh at your hips as he held onto you for support. Just like you’d requested, he was completely and utterly using you. 
“How’s that?” his gasp rolled into an achingly long groan as his balls slapped against your cunt, creating the most obscene wet sounds.
It was uncomfortable at first. He wasn’t soft or gentle by any means, but you’d anticipated that. After just a few thrusts, the intrusive pain turned into bolts of pleasure that coursed through your veins. It clouded your vision like white noise— like what the red berry wine you’d drink during Sunday mass would do to your mind. Din grabbed at the thin cloth that covered your chest, and ripped it off, exposing your bare breasts to him. A sheen of glistening sweat glazed your skin like the most beautiful honey dew. The Mandalorian was tall and broad, and as he towered over you, he coated you in his dark shadow.
His large hands palmed at your breasts and you moaned at the sudden, unexpected contact. He continued thrusting, fucking you mercilessly. With every movement, he hit that sweet spot inside of you, and you knew he’d been doing this for a long time. He was definitely experienced.
He dropped his hand for your chest and lowered it to your clit, expertly moving his two fingers across your bundle of nerves. That feeling, combined with his thick cock, was enough to send you over the edge. 
“Oh yes, yes, yes,” you chanted his name like it was a prayer— and he felt powerful.
The Mandalorian grinned wolfishly under his helmet as he increased his speed. You were seeing stars and it felt like your whole body was trapped under a spell. His spell.
“I ca- oh I can’t, I’m close, I’m close,” you cried as he continued to rock his hips into yours.
You hugged his body into yours, wishing the pleasure would never end. With every twitch of his cock he watched you intently. He watched the way your body reacted to him, revelling in the way your face screwed up in heated pleasure. Din adored the way your brow knitted together and your mouth parted as the most angelic noises omitted from your plush lips. 
“Have you ever felt so alive than you do right now, with me inside of you?” Din queried with a grunt.
“No,” you answered, shaking your head profusely. “Please don’t stop.”
Your orgasm ripped through you like a tornado and without warning, The Mandalorian split his seed deep inside of you, his salty cum roping your perfect walls as they gripped down around his cock. Now he had marked you for life.
Din returned to confession a week later when your father had returned from the Festival of Lights. There was no reason for you to see The Mandalorian anymore. 
“Forgive me, Grand Bishop, for I have sinned yet again.” Din announced, his voice clear as daylight after discarding his beskar helmet. He ran a gloved hand over his face.
“Another kill?” your father inquired, but from the other side of the wall, Din could only smirk.
“I’ve met a woman. A holy woman. And she has consumed my every thought. When I think about her I feel more inclined to sin, over and over again.” 
It was true. Your ruby red lips, high heels, thin robes… Din had become completely enraptured with you. 
Your father spent a moment contemplating the Mandalorian’s words, finding that he was speaking a lot differently than ever before. Not as ruthless or dangerous— but almost genuine.
“Would you give your body to this holy woman, if she requested you do so?” The Grand Bishop asked, not realising he was speaking about you, his own daughter.
“I already have,” Din confessed, subconsciously licking a stripe over his lower lip, at the memory of your taste. “And I would do it again.”
-—-—-—♡—-—-—-
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swtki · 3 years
Text
Boss - C.D
Pairing: CEO! Cedric Diggory x Intern! Fem! Reader
Summary: You fucked your boss, thats it.
Warnings: fluff, swearing, mentions of copulation, About a five year age gap (reader is 23 and Cedric is 28), alcohol.
A/N: not me just now posting this
When I was informed that my intern application had been accepted, I was ecstatic. It was my dream to work in the Aurors office, to fight the evil trying to destroy our way of life. Naturally, I went out drinking the night before - which granted, wasn't an amazing idea in the first place. I planned to have a few drinks, then grab a taxi for home. The tall, lean, brunette man sitting next to me was a later addition to the itinerary.
"Drinking to forget the demons, or celebrating?" he said, swirling his whiskey.
"Excuse me?"
He smiled, "It's just that usually people only come to a bar when doing either of the two."
"Oh," I turned my body towards him, "Celebrating, I suppose.". He smiled and nodded, taking a slow sip of his drink. "And you? Which is your reason?" Upon further inspection, I noticed he was dressed in a suit, but had taken off the jacket.
"Demons, I've lived a long time. Seen a few things."
"You can't be more than thirty, and obviously you do well for yourself. Businessman, perhaps? A wife, kids, a brilliant car?" I questioned.
"Not even close," He scoffed, "Twenty-eight, I've had the most experiences with near death than anyone you'll ever know. I live in an average flat, I don't own a car, nor do I have anything resembling a wife or kids." I sat there quietly. "So, what is it that you're celebrating...." he signaled as if he were asking for my name.
"Y/N, I start my internship tomorrow."
We talked for the rest of the evening, and he invited me to his flat. It eventually led to me waking up next to him in bed at two am, and blindly stumbling to my own home. Usually, one night stands weren’t my forte; Cedric was different. I didn’t know his last name, but I knew how he sounded - how he tasted.
My heels clicked on the linoleum floor of the ministry, I would start off in the office, filing for aurors and such. Even to assist them was an honor. My smile was wide as I entered the well lit office. A woman rushed by, her cup of coffee floating a few inches behind her. She saw me standing there, rather misplaced and stopped.
“Can I help you dear?” she said with a raised brow.
“Yes, I’m Y/N L/N, I’m the new intern.” The woman’s face relaxed.
“Ah- yes we were just talking about you! I’m Macy - I work in the same department as you actually. Come along, lets see you to your station.” Macy strutted away as I quickly followed behind, only stopping once we reached a small wooden desk in a separate room.
“This,” She pulled the chair out and motioned for me to sit, “Is your desk - its right next to the library so you can put together files more easily. My desk is over there.” She pointed her long red fingertips towards a decorated space; While mine had absolutely nothing, hers had pictures and intricate pens. “Oh!” she exclaimed, “they didn’t put your typewriter over here - lazy bastards.” With a swish of her wand, she brought me a slightly rusted device.
“Thank you, Macy.” She smiled and we started on my training. What to put wear, when to drop off the files, how to drop off the files, and so on. I looked at the clock as it struck five, the time flew by so fast that at first I thought it was broken.
As Macy and I walked out of the office together, I saw a fairly large office, blinds drawn down as much as possible. “Hey, whats that room there?” I pointed.
“Oh - thats Mr. Diggory’s office. I guess a case must have been rough, haven’t seen much of’m today. Probably meet him tomorrow, just needs to reset ‘s’all. “ I nodded and kept up with her, stopping once we reached our respective transportation.
As I walked in the next morning, I noticed someone blocking the door to my department’s office. He was tall, lean, slumping against the frame as if this were a solicitation friendly area - it wasn’t.
“Excuse me, I’d really like to get to my desk can you maybe-“ He turned around and with him my entire universe shook. It was him, it was Cedric. He stepped aside, not giving me the faintest of recognition that he had in fact been inside my guts only a few days before. I quietly walked in, my entire body feeling cold and stiff. I couldn’t quite place the feeling; Was it embarrassment? Hurt? I wanted to know so I could eradicate it.
The days passed and I succesfuly managed to avoid being alone with him. If we weren’t alone we couldn’t have the “talk”. I thought I was safe until I decided to stay a bit later than usual, packing up my stuff just as the last person had left, or who I thought the last person was.
I looked up when I heard three solid yet soft knocks on the door. My jaw went slack as I saw who it was.
“Got a minute?” he asked.
“I suppose…” my voice was quiet, why was I so nervous in front of him? He walked over to the desk beside me and leaned on it.
“You haven’t talked to me since - since that night. I woke up and you were gone, I thought I’d never see you again.”
“Well - maybe it would have been for the better, Mr. Diggory-“ He leaned forward slightly.
“Please, call me Cedric when we’re alone. I want you to be my equal when in private. And no, I don’t think it would have been for the better. You- you’re brilliant you know?” I hummed in response. “Y/N, I want you to be more than a subordinate. I want to take you to dinner - to do all the parts we skipped before.” I bit my lip, hesitantly.
“I need to….I need to think on it.”
“Right.” He said quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets. A pit formed in my stomach, had I just rejected him on accident? Was it possible my soul mate stood a few feet from me and I was in the process of fucking it up? He dropped his composure a bit. “Well, I’ll be off then. Have a lovely night, Y/N.” He said my name so well, so smooth. Like the night we first met, he was so natural yet so put together. He turned to walk out of the door, not hesitating for a small second. My thoughts ran wild with every step he took away from me.
“Fuck.” I hissed under my breath, opening the door and walking out to the hall as fast as I could. I spotted him - waiting for the lift. “I don’t,” He looked up from the floor, “I don’t have anything for tea tonight - plans I mean. I’d like to take you up on that offer.” My hands grasped themselves, thumbs twiddling as I saw him smile and start to laugh.
“You,” He stepped closer to me, leaving the tile where the lift was located, “Sure like to make this hard for me.” He lifted my hand to his face, leaving a soft kiss on the back of my hand.
And thats how I became the girlfriend of Cedric Diggory, the man who won the Tri-wizard tournament. It turned out, I had in fact been standing next to my soulmate the entire time.
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sugrbugz · 3 years
Text
𝙰𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 ~ 𝙺𝚞𝚛𝚘𝚘 𝚃𝚎𝚝𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚘𝚞 ♥︎
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a business man kuroo x femboy!male reader concept!
TYSM FOR 100 FOLLOWERS <3
ok females calm down i know everyone’s horny for kuroo, which is why i’ll be posting a female version of this too! i’m just a male who is indeed horny for kuroo soooo….i see u men
CW: heavy degradation..like HEAVY, oral, anal, pet play, bdsm, a little bit of somno (literally just touches your ass while ur sleeping that’s it), face fucking, dycraphilia, lotsa swearing hehe, hate fucking essentially.
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was it his fault? not entirely. kuroo had been at the end of his rope before he even walked in the front door. having to deal with corporate executives who thought they were actually useful all day was a chore in itself.
kuroo loved his job, loved his company, loved the money even, but most importantly he loved you. he loved everything about you. he loved how you’d come running down the large staircase when he came home, ready to receive a plethora of hugs and kisses from you. you were the only part of today he was looking forward to.
so when he came home to an empty house, not one with the sounds of your music or your feet rushing down the hall to greet him. he was honestly disappointed. “baby?” he called out loud enough, looking around the main floor a bit before going upstairs. now the sight before him made his heart squeeze, you curled up in the blankets of the bed with your head buried into his pillow? he wanted to cry.
that’s when he noticed it, your clothes. kuroo is as bisexual as it gets, he’s quite literally the poster child. however, in your mlm relationship it was very apparent the type of boys he was into, femboys. with a slight gulp he pulled the blanket back just a bit, careful not to wake you. the large pink night shirt that cling to your body with the literal pair of panties nearly made him pass out.
“even when you’re sleeping you aim to please me..” he mumbled running his fingers down your back before cupping your ass cheek with one hand. no movement from you yet. you two had talks about kinks before, it wasn’t uncharted territory and sure enough he remembered what he was doing right now was okay, you’d given him consent multiple times to do it but even then he still wanted fresh consent. maybe you fell asleep because you weren’t feeling good or were having a bad day and needed to sleep it off.
he lightly shook you, “hun..” he whispered leaning down to kiss your cheek softly. smiling when you whined softly. “you okay babe..? anything wrong?” he asked softly. you opened one eye, making him smile wide. “mhm…’m okay” you mumbled sitting up slightly, your shirt falling off your shoulder slightly. “that’s good..now…i have a favour to ask, kitten”
after the petname you knew what that favour was going to be. “anything for you.” you smiled softly, shifting your position so you were sitting on your knees in front of him. you knew what came next and so did he.
“sucha good boy” he praised softly, hands finding the collar around your throat. “you didn’t take it off since last night? that’s cute..maybe i’ll get you something similar that you can wear in public?” he hummed.
you knew better than to speak unless he was genuinely asking you a question but you still gave him a gently nod to show your interest.
“what a good pet…to be completely honest with you, i’ve had a terrible fucking day. you know how i get when i’m not having a good day don’t you angel?” he asked, a hint of cockiness to his tone.
“i’ll be back. by the time i am you know what i expect to see.” with that he kissed your forehead and left the room. you didn’t want to test him today, sometimes you’d be a brat but today was not that day.
you quickly stripped down, clothes folded neatly placed on the side table so they were accessible for aftercare. your hands found your lap, pressing your hands in between your legs to hide the inevitable boned that came with him using you like he wanted to. surely he wouldn’t know if you gave yourself a little attention right? it was just so hard to stop yourself..it would feel too good.
snaking one hand down you grab onto your own length, gently stroking it. you shiver a bit at the feeling, both your cold hand and the sexiness of know that if you’re caught kuroo would make your life a living hell for a couple of hours, was thrilling.
when you and kuroo started getting into bdsm he put rules in place, ones that you needed to follow in the bed and even in regular life. one of the big ones? always ask your master permission to play. it was almost like you could hear him saying it back in your head, the guilt was starting to set in but it was just too late. right as you went to stop your movements, the door opened again, leaving you and kuroo in a very long intense gaze.
“well..what do we have here love? is my good boy breaking the rules?” he simply walked over, tossing the lube among other things he brought to the side chair near the bed. “n-no i didn’t do anything!” you whined in protest.
kuroo slowly leaned down, hand gently cupping your face, “i don’t fucking believe you.” he whispered before bringing the hand on your cheek back a bit to give it a smack then quickly taking the stinging skin back in his hand. “one thing i hate more than a whore who doesn’t fucking listen is a liar.” he spits.
he could quite literally get off on the shocked expression on your face currently, “now let’s try this again. did you break a rule?” he asked, eyes literally begging you to try and lie again. “yes master..” you sighed in defeat, you knew the punishment would be bad.
“do you know what happens to naughty boys that don’t listen and lie? do you kitten?” he let go of your face now, walking over to some of the things he brought up to the room. “they get punished” you replied quickly, not wanting to give him any other reason to punish you harder. “they do…you’re so smart baby..” he came back over, shoving you flat down on your back before using a flogger over your pretty pink tip.
“if only you weren’t a needy dumb slut.” he laughed striking again. you were left there to just wiggle and take it, whines and gasps leaving your mouth like a gospel. “i just wanted to come home and have a good time with my pretty kitty..and of course your stupid cock had to ruin it.” he sighed, peering down at you slightly just to see if you were still okay but judging by your face you loved it.
“i can’t wait any fucking more. get on your hands and knees, and you better arch that fucking back” he grumbled leaning over to grab the lube. this is how you knew kuroo was stressed or upset. even if he was punishing you he always took his time giving you what you wanted but now it was straight to the point.
“god look at that beautiful ass..too bad it’s attached to a cumdump like you, it’s going to be fucking tortured today i promise you that much boy.” he hissed giving it a rough slap. you flinch forward from the sting, a loud whine leaving your mouth. that only makes him do it again, harder this time. so hard it’s already formed a raised little imprint of his hand.
with every smack you jolt forward causing your cock to rut against the blankets, there was just so many sensations at once that you couldn’t help it when you came untouched, load seeping out onto the bed.
you’re fucked.
“did you just fucking cum?” he laughs loudly, one more extremely hard slap coming down, basking in the way you scream and whine about being sensitive. “you’re fucking pathetic. is that all you need? the bare fucking minimum?” he cussed at you. “you better fucking apologize” he grunts out.
“i-i’m so sorry! ‘m sorry master i-i didn’t mean too! it just feels soo good!” you practically sobbed, babbling like an idiot about how much you love him and that you’ll do better. he loved breaking you like this but he knew it was also emotionally taxing. “what do i always tell you baby?” his voice was a bit softer now, wiping a stray tear that did slip from your eye.
“t-this is just for fun..you don’t mean anything you say” you sniffled looking up at him with those cute little eyes of yours. “that’s right. good boy” he praised, “colour??” he asked immediately after. “green” you smile giving him a little thumbs up.
with your confirmation kuroo quickly grabbed you by the small amount of hair you had, pressing your face against the tent in his pants. “good..then it’s only fair i get to cum too yeah?” he smirked, stroking your hair gently.
“yes sir you do..i promise i’ll do good for you!” you ramble quickly, tiny hands working on his dress pants buttons. he watched you with hooded lids, just admiring how quickly you were trying to please him. “maybe your punishment will end if you’re good enough, but remember kitty it won’t be easy” he smirked knowing exactly what he was going to do.
you didn’t reply, just gave him a tiny nod. if you had to work for it then you would. you pull his cock out of his pants, kitten licking at the top a few times before licking a long strip from his balls all the way back up to the tip. to say you had a oral fixation, especially when it came to kuroos cock, was an understatement.
“that’s it…g-good boy-fuck” he praised, hands roughly gripping at your hair. holding you in place when you tried to take most of his length into your mouth, what didn’t fit your hands fumbled with. however kuroo was determined to make it fit.
kuroo roughly pulled your head down onto him, basking in the sound of you choking and gagging on his cock, “awh what’s the matter? bit off more than you can chew??” he smirked fucking your face with aggression, hips snapping up flush against your cheeks.
the tears that rolled down your cheeks made him unbelievably horny that he couldn’t stop himself, grunts and moans leaving him mouth while he used yours as a person fuck toy. you knew he was close when his perfect rhythm faltered a little and his grip on you was even tighter. to show him just how bad you wanted it, your hands found his balls, rolling and playing with them.
“goddd~you want this l-load so bad huh? hm? nggh! fuckk! you want it? yeah? fucking taking it stupid slut.” he sounded so unbelievably hot you can’t even help the bit of precum now leaking from your sensitive tip. soon after his statements you felt a warm sensation flooding down your throat, almost choking and coughing slightly since there was so much.
kuroo was still letting out loud moans of exctasy, ending with a soft hum he pulled his cock out of your mouth. the second you were freed you let out a gasp for air and a little bit of a cough but kuroo didn’t care. he grabbed your chin, opening your mouth with his other hand to make sure not even a drop of his cum went to waste. “good kitty..you took my cock so well…maybe you do need a reward?” he hummed, laughing deeply when you nodded quickly.
“face down ass up pretty boy.” he stated, having no problem jerking his still sensitive cock back up into a full erection. you did exactly as he asked before feeling a cold piece of metal against your back, you knew it well. the lead that attached to your collar. after it was clicked into place there were a few kisses up your back before you heard his raspy breath in your ear, “if you cum again without my permission this ass is going to be so fucking bruised and sore you won’t be sitting for months.” he whispered softly before biting the tip of your ear.
your breath caught in your throat but you nodded quickly, “yes sir..i’ll be so good i just really need to feel you..” you whine out, having to force your hips not to rut against the bed. “it’s cute when you’re so unbelievably pathetic for me” he smirked before gently rubbing the tip of his cock against your hole. “you’re clenching around nothing..so pretty..”
you choked out a tiny sob from just how needy you were, he always did this. he liked to break you down before even touching you, you loved it. “a stupid whore” he laughed loudly before giving you another harsh smack. with that he lubed his cock up, groaning a bit from how it felt.
with that he pushed inside, moaning when he bottomed out. he had this plan where he was going to make you cockwarm him for a bit just to tease you but the second he thought about all the stupid shit he had to deal with today? his hips snapped up and aggressively into you making you scream out but he wasn’t listening.
he was stuck in his own head, mentally cussing out everyone he worked with as he fucked all his anger out into his pretty kitty. “a-ah! da-mm! daaddyy!” you whine out nearly snapping him back to reality fully. “what? can’t handle it? is it too much for you?” he spat quickly, his pace not letting up. “everyone’s-nn-fuckin’ disappointing me today! i’m not taking it from you kitten.” he seethed, basking in the sound the bed made as it smacked off the wall.
“daddy! fuckk! ‘s soo goodd” he listened to the way you moaned out, his cock twitching so hard inside you that you could feel it. “yeah? you like it when i fuck your stupid boy pussy” he grinned knowing the way that made your heart skip a beat. “come on then, prove it. show me how much you love this fucking cock, stupid bitch” he smirked smacking your seriously irritated ass cheeks.
that sparked something inside of you, your hips throwing themselves back onto his cock. your moans so loud for him it sounded like screams. “p-please!” you managed to scream out between the loud babbling that left your mouth. “please what kitty?” he grunted, doing his best to focus on you and the squeezing your ass that was practically trying to milk him.
“plea-hhng! please c-cum daddy please!” you screamed, thank fuck he didn’t have neighbours. he smirked and shoved you down so your head was pressed again the mattress, holding your head there he let out a loud fucking moan before completely stilling. you could feel it shooting out in ropes, it felt so good that you came instantly and once again untouched.
“hmm that was cute~” he hummed almost immediately back to his normal self. “colour my love?” he asked gently rubbing your back, wondering if there was possibility to go again. “red” you murmur making him nod before slowly slipping out of you. “are you hurt? was it too much?” he pouted softly, gently rolling you onto your back to keep eye contact with you.
when you couldn’t reply he gently scooped you up and carried you into the bathroom, “it’s okay baby..kuroos got ya’”
753 notes · View notes
banqdanfnfic · 3 years
Text
which, as they kiss, consume | jjk
you just wanted to get a tattoo from your boyfriend
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pairing: tattoo artist!jk x reader
genre: established relationships au, tattoo artist au, smut
word count: 4k
warnings: unprotected sex, biting, making out, grinding, licking, nipple play, jk has a lip ring, oral (f receiving), fingering, shy jk and oc, sexual tension, slight choking, slight aftercare
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♫ : Streets by Doja Cat, Candy by Doja Cat
♡ Aesthetics: Playlist | Moodboard
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He visibly chokes on his glass of beer as he almost snaps his neck to meet your gaze. He could say that you were awfully drunk and hence the sudden confession out of the blue, but behind your heavy lidded eyes, Jungkook could sense that you were serious.
“You what?”, he gulps abruptly, moving closer to your face, doe eyes pleading to repeat yourself.
“Yes Kook. I want that tattoo on my breasts. I’ve decided”.
It’s not that Jungkook didn’t have experience in his career with inking on different parts of a human body. He just had never given a tattoo to someone who is romantically associated with him and the thought of seeing you half naked made him chuck down the rest of his drink in one go.
The most physical he had ever gotten with you was a kiss shared occasionally since it’s only been over two weeks you had started dating. Okay maybe you made out once in his car but that’s it. It never got to the point of shedding clothes or anything intense.
“Are you sure?”
You giggle at the sudden hoarseness in his voice and nod positive. Ironic how his aura never matched his personality. His inked skin, athletic body proportions covered in black monochrome bad boy outfits gave out default energy that he is a local heartthrob with multiple chicks wrapped around his finger each night and a heavy demeanor to carry in his smirk.
You were one of those believers until Jungkook asked you out in the most hopeless romantic way possible after constantly visiting the café you work in, a few shops besides his parlor. He was a gentleman with respectful boundaries, warm hands to hold yours and sweet sensual kisses though you are pretty sure he probably has a good game.
For any outsider it looked like those cliché bad boy and shy girl love stories, but for real both of you were a good percentage of introverts.
Jungkook runs his tongue around his lip ring while he is stressfully ruffling his dark locks into a mess. He is trying to explain his reasons to postpone your decision considering how shy he got at this point. But then that’s exactly why you were requesting him with soft eyes, it would be so uncomfortable to be shirtless in front of anybody else. Or maybe it’s your way of saying the relationship is open for higher levels of physical affection.
After debating around in vain, he finally hums and clears one of his slots for his beloved client.
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Friday approaches way quicker than you assumed and now your heart is beating in your throat. Right after you are done cleaning the tables, you have to make it to Jungkook’s parlor for your appointment.
Running on three hours of sleep, black under eyes even after a decent amount of makeup, you groan as you check yourself out in the mirror. You opted for a simple shirt and skirt (also known as the outfit you bought for occasions with Jungkook), light beach waves resting on your shoulders. Hoping that a few cups of coffee will save you, you stride across the street to stop before the infamous parlor he worked in. Hopefully the full body shave and chocolate body butter has kept its excellence on your skin below the clothing.
The door chimes as it opens with a dragged creak on the musky wooden flooring. It felt like an otherworld where air smelled like men’s perfume and faint tint of cigarettes. In other words, intoxicating.
You ask the first person you meet at the reception, one of Jungkook’s companions at the shop and he assists you to his cabin located at a comfortably remote location.
His space is hidden with a simple black curtain. You are met with Jungkook’s back facing you, working determinately on a client’s arm and cares to spare a glance only when the guy with you is informing him about your presence.
“This will be over in a few”, he grins to your face and goes back to focusing his coil on the skin of a woman in her late twenties laying down his chair. The vibration from his inking machine fills in the silence and you excuse yourself to sit on a small black couch beside them.
This was the first time watching him at work and now you can understand why people rumored so much about his attitude because damn it is intimidating.
Brows knit together and inked muscles flex as he drags the needles around for finishing touches. Meanwhile you can pretty much smell the drool from the woman who is shamelessly checking out your boyfriend. Though you are pretty sure Jungkook gets such glances more than he can count every day, you can’t help but feel jealous. Partly because of the childish possessiveness and partly because you want to be the reason behind his dark eyes and intricate concentration, in profession or not.
To stop from mentally throwing daggers on the client’s way, you grab a random fashion magazine from the side table and flip through pages, though other four senses are inclined on your man. With a close attention to his low sigh you conclude that he is done.
The customer with now a fresh tattoo on her arm is discussing random useless topics to get him to talk, a very vain job realizing how Jungkook doesn’t bat a friendly lash at anybody, especially to those who hit on him. To be honest a large part of the ink business was linked with the obsession to attractive people who worked here, even if it meant trading an area of your skin. You grip the edges of the magazine a bit hard, not able to contain the sanity particularly at the high pitch voice she mumbles in before finally leaving his cabin.
A little excited and a lot nervous, you stand up as Jungkook bids goodbye to the third person.
He is quick to notice your discomfort, though not sure if it was the woman or the thought of finally getting the tattoo, he knew you were nervous and surviving in several cups of espresso by the dark circles slowly showing through the faded layers of your concealer. But nothing pulls down the opinion he has about you, beautiful and simple, no dramatics attached.
“Hey are you okay?”
You nod as soon as you sit down on the black tattoo chair, shifting a little to find a comfortable position. He is taking out a box full of equipment and fine needles, already making you break a sweat at the side of your forehead.
But more than that, it’s the way he is sharp and professional that catches your attention more.
You have never seen Jungkook this serious before. The choice of his vetiver perfume digging through your nostrils was driving you insane. If he doesn’t smile soon, you are going to melt into a puddle at his gaze.
“Are you nervous?”, he smirks this time, a newfound reason for your worsening gut health.
It’s mostly going in cycles at this point. Every bit of his skilled motion causes a vigorous hormonal reaction which initiates his next set of effortless teasing.
“I’m a little nervous”, you say, fiddling with your freshly painted nude nails.
“Me too”
It’s something you least expect to come out of his mouth observing how confident he looks right now. He basically has you cornered with his gaze. But whenever he had been truthful about his emotions it felt like a hug.
“I can take off my shirt too, so that we are even. Is that okay?”
He said it so softly like he is handling a child and the duality of the situation had your mind fogged and limbs frozen for a few minutes.
“Yeah it’s okay” It’s far beyond than okay. It’s great actually.
Jeon Jungkook is ripped, a Greek God sculptured masterpiece covered in self designed artwork you are more than happy to wake up to every morning. He hears you gulp at the feast before your eyes while he discards his black t-shirt to a nearby chair.
Now you don’t know if this whole thing is supposed to warm your heart or make you play several erotic fantasies like a movie before your eyes.
Both of you share a small smile while his long fingers are tugging at the hem of your shirt and pulling it up over your head.
He almost wishes you don’t opt to wear a bra but he is met with lacy black, a-bit-over your-usual-budget fabric hugging the roundness of your breasts.
It seemed like you were way too competitive about today. Anything less than complete awe from Jungkook for you was straight disappointment, you don't want anything less.
Well it seems like it did from how blown his pupils were at this point. He peels his gaze off your chest with a sharp gulp to look at your eyes suddenly devoid of any fear and staring back at him with all ease. He is filled with an exapnse of warmth and he isn't sure why does spending just a little amount of time with you had such a grip on him. He can’t wait to propose the idea of getting a couple tattoo together soon and as far as you know how Jungkook is, he is very serious with his body art so apparently he does trust you a lot already.
“Where exactly are you trying to get it?”, his voice is a lot deeper suddenly as he waits for your fingers to guide to his canvas.
You softly trace the spot at the upper circumference of your right boob, “Here”.
You suck a breath through your nose as his own fingers are mimicking your gesture, lightly pulling down the lace to inspect the fitting of the design at hand.
These violent delights have violent ends
And in their triumph die, like fire and powder
Jungkook traces each word on your burning skin, now leaning dangerously close which was questioning your control to put your palms flat on his pecs. He doesn’t notice that though, his mind is busy creating his own fantasies about the women under him.
After two minutes and twenty four second long of inspection and mutual thirst, Jungkook is selecting a bunch of needles to set into the rotary machine. Five fine sharp like a painter's brush moves in and out at a set regularity as Jungkook tests it out.
The next of his actions had you flushed into a pool of crimson. He gently lifts up your resting torso with one hand while the other is unclasping the hook of your bra, making you half naked for the sake of the tattoo.
"I'm going to start", he says shyly.
You still have time to save yourself from the growing phobia for the object, but another unlogical part of your brain says it's a piece of cake considering you have a whole distracting full course meal in front of you.
It stings at first. Well, okay it hurts like hell but your face is devoid of any indication, except your right hand is gripping on the rim of the chair for dear life.
Jungkook on the other hand had never felt this much diversion of mind during his work. He knows that you are probably hurting very badly, especially for a first timer. He is biting into his lip ring, trying to get this over with for the well-being of your pain and his hormones.
After he had scribed one word into your dermis, you are no longer able to contain the ache so you give out a small squeak out of your glossed lips and the vibration of the machine at his hands stops as he looks at you.
"You want me to stop? ", he is relaxing his face as he cups yours with one hand. You don't want to answer that question, but the drumroll of the current situation is making your heart flutter and everything about the little burn on your chest is forgotten.
"No. It does hurt but I'll be fine I guess", you whisper. His breath is mixing with yours slowly as he is leaning more towards your face. If it isn't for a kiss then you are likely to be disappointed.
"It'll be over before you know it. I'll make it quick", and then he kisses you, a small act to get off the pressure of sexual tension between your bare upper bodies.
Before you think of any tongue in the act, he is breaking off the contact and returns to his position on your chest. He misses the pout that forms on your mouth but right now both of your heads are in cloud nine.
The pain starts again, only this time you are busy reliving how his lips felt in yours; soft, firm and controlled.
You gasp when you feel one of his hands cupping your right breast to further his design but it's lowkey an act empowered by lust which is straining behind the so called professional eyes.
You just sit there flustered out of your mind and then Jungkook is suddenly squeezing, full palm hiding your breasts like it's a protected treasure, but he isn't showing the slightest facial expression other than determined eyes and his lower lip caught between his teeth.
Fuck you can't take it anymore. Jungkook can feel your nipples harden against his hand and his brain isn't helping much to concentrate on the design. But by the grace of some positive karma left on his side, he makes it through the long text and when he is letting go of your chest and standing tall, your skin is popping out with redness on the places the text lays embedded.
He fishes out a mirror for you to look.
"It looks beautiful thank you Jungkook", you smile.
"Can I give you one more tattoo on your left one?", he asks while you are contemplating whether going through the pain is worth it, not to mention you really want to get back at a private space with Jungkook as soon as possible.
"It won't hurt I promise", and then he is kissing you a lot filthier than before; all tongue and teeth, while his hands are grazing on the skin of your waist, pressing a little firmer than before.
The coldness of his lip ring rivaled around your mouth, and you try sucking on it to which Jungkook responds with a growl and pushes his body adamantly against yours.
Skin to skin, you are lost in euphoria of everything happening and finally, you roam your eager hands around his body, to his pecs and the definition of abs.
As your fingers scraped against his scalp, Jungkook is biting eagerly down your jawline to your collarbone and continues his ministrations at a particular spot which is bringing out melodic moan variation from you.
He is going down your skin, licking on your left boob before he starts planting violet tattoos as he had promised. As if it couldn't get better, he is massaging the right breast, in a way to soothe pain.
He loses it when you stutter his name, but he is just a fucking tease when it comes to making love and doing anything in a public space is the last thing he wants to do. There isn't much room for all that he wants right now.
"Why did you choose this particular tattoo Y/n?", he rasps while he is planting small pecks on his artwork, and you reply when he is finally eye level with you
"I just felt like it's a good one", your breaths are uneven and mostly caught in your neck. He pecks your lips before speaking, "Those are lines from Romeo and Juliet".
He takes your hands to trace over a line of text among the many designs on his chest.
which, as they kiss, consume
"We pretty much have a couple tattoo now Y/n", his breath is matched with your pace and you are not very sure how to respond to this new knowledge.
"That's… hot"
You break into giggles along with him, he just can't stop dragging his lips around your skin, but he isn't able to word his feelings right now either.
"I have some aftercare healing ointment for the tattoo at my place, wanna come over?" Now that may be a little lame of an excuse to get his little friend out of his pants but you are too unfazed to analyse any of that.
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His hands find place on your ass under the skirt as soon as the door to his apartment closes, and before you know it, you are in his bedroom, sitting on the soft mattress and tongue lost devouring each other.
While eagerly getting rid of every article of clothing, Jungkook notices that you don't have your bra on beneath the shirt, so it's probably back at the parlour, but none of you have the slightest care for it, might as well make an excuse with it later to fuck you in his cabin.
He is pushing you farther towards the headboard, him on top, grinding sensenslesy while your lips mould with his. Though he has his whole body pressed against you, you can't seem to feel his weight at the slightest, every one of his actions were just balanced and perfect.
As Jungkook goes down on you, his smile is evident against your skin, finally able to find out how every one of those scenarios in his head will come to look like. He lets out a satisfied hum being finally able to suck on your tits, your fingers finding place on his hair, twisting it out of stimulation.
His pelvis is flushed harshly against yours, grinding and rubbing against your pussy for as long as he is rejoicing the feeling of moving his tongue around both the nipples.
He stops rubbing after some point and you whimper at the loss but his fingers are soon to meet your core as a quick apology. All your later moans are muffled on his mouth once again.
Feeling the controlled movements of his fingers on your clit, you dig your nails down on his toned shoulders. It's becoming impossible to reciprocate his lewd movements of tongue on your lips at this point as the excitement between your thighs is growing every passing second.
Your mouth remains slightly parted as he removes his face to watch you squirm underneath, lips swollen, deep red and glossy from all the saliva.
He pecks at the shell of your ear before going down past your navel.
You haven't had much heads in the twenty years of your life, most of the guys being completely against the idea which made you feel insecure to bring up the topic in bed, but Jungkook does it like his life depends on it.
He growls at the sight of you dripping into his sheets and he seems to enjoy the idea of being the influence behind it. But none is going through your head at the moment, not the metal on his lips grazing against your folds, or the fact that Jungkook is grinning each time you cry his name, it feels unreal to feel something like this.
His mouth is wrapping against your entrance and he is balancing your lower body on his palms to help him reach the right depths inside you. While all you can muster up is the strength to grope the bedsheets in your fist and close your eyes at the pleasure.
Jungkook brings his head higher to give some attention to the throbbing clit, catching it between his teeth and triggering the bundle of nerves just the perfect dose to have your hips jolting up to his face.
He can't take it himself when you are now whining and chasing for your release, so he is slightly humping against the bed to get some friction.
He licks a slow stripe up till your abdomen and slowly raises to your face, already fucked out and dishevelled to keep up with his dominant orbs.
He swears he had never felt so much warmth and care for sex with any of his previous partners, in relationship or not, all he could think is how good can he treat the pleading eyes underneath him.
"Is there something you like that you want me to do?", he says, fingers grazing once again to your crotch to not deny you from his contact. Only this time he is exploring the tightness of your pretty cunt with two skillful fingers.
Is there? You are not sure. Or in other words you are too caught up at the sense of him fingering you. It's not like you had enough experience or people who cared enough to ask that question. It astounds you that never in this entire foreplay he asked for any favor for himself.
"I'm not sure…", you whisper and then maybe you have something on your mind " um I guess I would like to be choked" Okay this felt embarrassing.
He smiles before sliding his free hand from your lips to your neck, and applies slight force, careful to not hurt you in the slightest bit.
"Is that fine?"
"Yeah", you muffle through the decreasing course of air.
He pulls up your face by the throat to attach lips once more. He just can't seem to get enough of kissing you senseless. Then, the tip of his long ignored cock is teasing the length of your pussy twice before it's stretching you out to the brim.
Bodies flushed and hot, his pace is deep and slow, making sure to kiss the cervix every time he is inside.
He watches as your eyes close shut and flutters around whenever he is grazing against your sweet spot. Both of your ears lost and eager for the moans looming out of each other, his more like what he sounds at the gym. Nice observation Y/n.
In this span of sexual energy you shared, you can make some obvious conclusions. Sex with him was surreal, both in terms of domination and the care he had. Rocking against him and keeping up with his hips was attainable— Compared to the intense eye contact he tries to hold, or the way he cups the side of your face and rubs the pad of his thumb on your cheeks while he kisses you during sinking back in, or the way his eyes glow at the beauty of your body open for him. It makes you feel special and it's difficult to respond to these gestures when you never felt this way before.
Jungkook could tell that from your face, but he hopes he lasts with you enough to help you know the worth you hold. You couldn't think too much about anything when you are busy squeezing around his length and coming twice in the first ten minutes.
By the third orgasm Jungkook is nearing his own and he pulls out to pump a few times before coming on your stomach.
"Was it okay?", his voice is all over the place, still balancing his body on his arms while you are amazed by his strength.
"It was amazing Jungkook", you smile. You have known a lot about Jungkook over the few dates you spent with him. That he likes literature, classics and philosophy, designs tattoos as a subconscious thing, that his game is A-1, and he likes working out almost three hours a day. Good for you. But it wasn't until now you know him to be gentle, like he is afraid to crush you under a feather touch. You don't know him as someone who is staring deep into your face after a good fuck, speaks nothing, smiles widely, and plants a peck on your forehead before getting off the bed.
He does the honors of cleaning both of your bodies with a towel, it's not like you have any strength left in you anyway. And then pulls out an ointment from the bedside table and plops next to your body.
"There. You need this to protect the tattoo", he takes off the nozzle and applies a required amount against the words on your chest and massages against them.
"Now go to sleep Juliet", he mocks, pulling up the sheets over you both "good night".
You snuggle against his hard chest, kissing his pecs before resting on it, "Good night Romeo".
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thank you so much for reading!! please leave a feedback!!
★ taglist: @pjmochii (dm, ask or comment to enter the tl!)
★ credits: @/rainbeary on spotify : songs that'll make you feel everything's in slow motion playlist
★ banner & boards: by me :)
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a/n: this is my first time writing smut and i basically died of second hand embarrassment during the process. pardon for my untalented ass, i tried this wip continuously for a week and i seriously don't think it could get anything better though it's probably not much.
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© banqdanfnfic 2021, all rights reserved. do not modify, translate, or repost my works. modification, translations, and/or redistribution of my works on any platform is strictly prohibited.
1K notes · View notes
jadequeen88 · 3 years
Text
Smart Girls Make Fast Learners
NSFW 18+ ONLY. MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!
My contribution to the BNHarem’s monthly collab. The theme was SEx work. ⛓This piece is a first real deep dive into darker themes and was actually really, really exciting to write. 🖤 A massive thanks to my dear friend @libiraki​ for beta reading this.
TW: yandere behavior, toxic relationship, degradation, non-con, dub-con, degradation/praise kinks, mind break, oral (M and F receiving), over stim, loss of virginity, mentions of physical violence.
DISCLAIMER: I do not condone this type of relationship. This is a work of fiction and if this happens IRL please get out of the relationship!
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There is a very specific type of dread that occurs when you discover that the person you built your world around has been lying to you. Tamaki Amajiki was experiencing this brand of betrayal for the first time in his twenty-one years on a rainy Tuesday in October in the dim lighting of your dorm room. His grip tightened around the open laptop as he stared at glimpses of flesh in the thumbnails of the many, many videos posted to the site. Previous live streams with thousands of views. He gulped down the bile in his throat as he scrolled through the videos. His shock and disgust morphed into a pure rage as he counted up the live streams that you’d had since first kissing him. 12. There had been twelve. Three times a week for the past four weeks. 
Those big doe eyes that looked into his eyes as you tentatively licked the tip of his cock for the first time… mere hours later they were rolling in the back of your head as you got off for strangers on the internet. He couldn’t take it. You were his first… everything… he knew that you hadn’t been innocent in your past. The way your tongue expertly wound around his when you first kissed him amongst your plush pillows and goose-down comforter reminded him of the fact. The low violet LED lighting of your bedroom made him feel like the two of you were in your own ethereal world. He could forgive you for not waiting for him as he’d waited for you. 
For the past four years, he kept to the shadows. He was there when the football player from freshman year cheated on you with one of your terrible friends (and when it happened the second, third, fourth time). He was there to binge your favorite shows with you (“*insert current guy you were fucking* just doesn’t get it, he’s not into it. I’m so glad I’ve got you to watch it with!”) He bit back the heartache that would wash over him when you’d pet him and coo over him… you didn’t see him as a man. He wanted to bend you over and prove he could fuck your brains out. He KNOWS he’d be perfect for you. But he never rejected the attention. He smiled and accepted whatever crumbs fell from your table. Whether it be helping you study or letting you complain about your shitty friends or your shitty jock boyfriends or your shitty parents… He gave and gave and gave… until that one day, 35 days ago to be exact, a shift in the tide occurred.
 ⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸
“So why don’t you have a girlfriend, Tama-kun?”
“Wh-wha?”
Tamaki dropped the pencil he’d been using and before he could bend to get it himself, your hand was on his thigh and he was putty in your grasp. You giggled and cooed over him like you always did, but this time you did it while assaulting his mouth and neck with your skilled tongue. This time, for the first time, you made Tamaki feel like a man. Like YOUR man.
⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸
Over the next few weeks, Tamaki had become quite skilled in pleasing a woman. It only took a little guidance to have him sucking at your clit with just the right amount of pressure. He learned on his own how to couple that with his long, delicate fingers twisting and pumping in and out of your slick hole. You’d cling to his silky hair, pulling him closer as a constant stream of praise tumbled from your lips:
“No one has ever made me feel this good.”
“Your fingers are perfect Tama-kun”.
“I love your mouth on me so much, baby.”
The first time you came on his face, Tamaki knew there was a god because he’d found heaven between your thighs.
But that was gone now… ripped away with one mouse click on the night he was going to finally give you his virginity. He had held on to it like it was a treasure. A treasure he’d present to you one day wrapped up in life-long devotion and worship... But Tamaki wasn’t in heaven anymore. He wasn’t going to worship you tonight. For the first time since laying eyes on you, Tamaki wanted to hurt you.
⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸
You turned the shower off and dried yourself. Wiping the condensation from the mirror, you couldn’t help but smile at your reflection. You felt like this was going to be the first time giving your body to someone. Tonight was a redo. You were wiping the slate clean. Your first time would no longer be underneath the football captain in the passenger seat of his truck, left feeling sore and unsatisfied. It was going to be with the guy you should have noticed long ago. It would be soft and slow… passionate and filled with sweet words and caresses… limbs tangled in soft sheets that smell like lavender and vanilla. 
You applied your lotion and moisturized your face. The red lace adorning your body was arranged perfectly, accentuating the soft swell of your hips and chest. With one last glance in the mirror and adjustment of your bra, you opened the door to the cool air of your dorm room…
...And saw Tamaki looking murderous. 
His eyes slowly left the screen to meet your gaze. His tear-stained face had never looked this harsh. His normally sweet eyes were narrowed and red from crying. The sweet lips you’d licked and sucked with such tenderness were hard and cold as they pulled upward in a grimace.
The only thing he said before rising from the bed and setting aside your laptop was your camgirl username. Then he was on you before you could draw a breath to explain.
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Tamaki always thought he liked you best on top of him showering him with kisses and threading your fingers through his hair, but he had to admit… having your arms tied to a bed frame with the silky sash of your bathrobe cutting into your skin was doing things to him. When you sniffled, face stained with tears and snot, his dick twitched in his boxers. The whines you were choking back behind the silky red panties stuffed down your throat sent chills up his spine. You had to learn the hard way not to spit them out after a harsh slap echoed against your skin when you fought back the first time.
Tamaki stood back to survey the mess of skin, spit, and tears for a moment. You were a blank canvas for him to mark up with his rage and lust. You tried to hide away your bare pussy by clenching your thighs together. It only spurred him on.
“Do you have any clue what you’ve done?” he hovered over you, sleek muscles rippling over your own soft body, “I waited, and waited, and WAITED,” he bit down on the side of your exposed neck and you screamed behind the silky gag, trying your best not to expel it from your mouth and receive more punishment.
“I want to give you everything, Y/N,” he licks over the bite, almost apologetically, “I don’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want it to happen like this… FUCK, why?! Why did you ruin this?” his long fingers dug into your cheeks as he forced you to meet his fiery gaze. You couldn’t help whimpering and sniffling back more clear runny snot. You were so humiliated at how disheveled and disgusting you must look. His head ducked into the soft spot between your neck and shoulder and you felt him sob. 
Despite the abuse he’d inflicted upon you in the last ten minutes, you nuzzled your cheek into the top of his head in an attempt to comfort him. And he let you… he hated himself for it and he hated you for making this all so hard for him.
“No… no, no, no,” he rose from the bed to set up your ring-light and laptop, ice running through your veins at the sight. Your mind couldn’t accept what was about to happen.
“I’m... I’m not letting you get away with this,” he shook his head and pulled at his hair as he finished setting everything up, “If you’re insisting on being a slut, you’ll be MY slut. And everyone will know…” he jerked your ankle to force you flat on your back.
⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸
Maybe if he’d let the gag out of your mouth, you’d be able to tell him this was just a job to you. That it was clinical… that he was the only one who had ever been able to get you off, that his face was the only one you’d come on… that you needed the money since your parents had disowned you…
But you only laid there, accepting whatever he was going to dish out. You knew he was hurt. You weren’t stupid. You overlooked him while knowing how he felt about you. It took years of horrible one-night stands and countless frat parties pretending that whatever guy you’d picked that night was interesting for you to come to your senses. You hated yourself for being so blind for so long… You adored Tamaki, truly. And you hated yourself for all the times you’d hurt him… so you swallowed your fear and tried to prepare yourself for whatever came next.
⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸⫸
Any soft parts of Tamaki that you’d grown to love were gone, hardened by heartache and desperation. After angling the laptop to get the perfect shot, he started the live stream countdown. Subscribers started trickling in, commenting on how this was a pleasant surprise since it wasn’t one of your regularly scheduled streams. You shut your eyes to pretend this wasn’t real.
Without fanfare or warning, Tamaki ripped apart your thighs, exposing your bare slit. A raw shrill was pulled from your lungs, your back arching from the sting of an abrupt slap. Neurons fired off in your brain… were you in pain? Was it pleasure?
“Since my girlfriend likes to keep secrets from me, I can’t trust what comes out of her whore mouth,” he emphasized his point by stuffing his fingers past your lips, pushing the soaked silk further into your throat, “So she’s going to keep this gag right here until I can fuck the truth out of her,” he trailed his fingers along your reddened folds. Were you getting wet? Horror and shame blossomed in your chest. The fact that you were growing aroused wasn’t lost on Tamaki. His foreign, sadistic grin was back… aimed directly into your soul.  
“So that’s what you like, huh?” His nails bit into your thighs leaving tiny crescents behind, “I’ve been too nice? Too soft?” He pushed your thighs impossibly wide, the stretch causing you to moan. He hovered over your core, onyx orbs blown wide with a mix of hate and lust. Tamaki looked like the devil himself and you wondered just how fucked up you were for wanting his punishment.
He opened his mouth and lolled out his tongue, never severing the desperate gaze you both shared, his intertwined with hunger, yours with fear. You’d never noticed how long and thick his tongue was and couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel caressing every ridge and crevice of your inner walls. He flattened the warm, wet muscle and pressed it along your slit. As he slowly slid it closer and closer to your burning clit, you whimpered and bucked your hips chasing the pleasure you knew he was capable of giving… but this was not your sweet boy and he wasn’t doing any of this for your pleasure.
He slung his arm over your lower stomach and growled into your drenched lips. You were pinned down, helpless against his torturous tongue. Fresh tears pricked at your eyes as you remembered how he’d let you pet him and buck into his face, how sweetly he’d ease you into a gentle release. Not this time… it was all teeth and sharp sucks, his tongue forcing you open violently. You were being shoved over a cliff and despite the horror and violence of what was happening to you. You were approaching an orgasmic state at record speed. Tamaki caught on and doubled down. The arm that wasn’t pinning you into the mattress pulled your leg down straight, your knee in a death grip. The new angle made the sensations even more intense. His face pressed harder into your core and you noticed that at some point, he’d started weeping, small sobs vibrating against your skin. The overwhelming mix of emotions and the vigor in which he was eating you shoved you over the edge.
He kept going along at the same speed with the same determination through your orgasm until it became painful. You pushed past it as best you could, allowing him to sob into your over-sensitive skin until he had his fill. As the pain started intermingling with pleasure, your legs shook and the gag couldn’t hold your screams back any longer. You released against his tongue once more, both of you sobbing. He laid against your thigh for what felt like an eternity before he lifted himself to lay on top of you, his hip bones digging into your soft thighs. You could feel the bulge through the thin material of his boxer briefs. Your hips rose to meet it, a pleading gesture filled with the desire to comfort and please him. Your eagerness encourages his mercy, there’s a meek cry that leaves your lips when the damp silk slips from between your teeth.
“Please baby… I’m so, so sorry I didn’t tell you…” your voice was as weak as a kitten’s cry and Tamaki couldn’t deny it made his heart (his dick) clench.
“Say it…” his lips were close enough to kiss, but you resisted… fearful of what he’d do if you did.
“Say what, Tama?” your eyes were wide with concern and confusion. You were desperate to please him.
He turned your face to the camera that you’d forgotten was there and the gravity of the situation crashed around you again. New tears leaked from your stinging eyes as Tamaki whispered into your ear.
“Say that you’re a lying whore…”
“I..I’m a lying whore…”
The last syllable broke as your abused throat grew accustomed to speaking again. He rewarded you with a soft kiss to your cheek and your eyes closed at the tender gesture. The familiar pain in your chest welled to the surface causing even more tears to escape.
“And tell everyone that you’re my own personal slut”
You repeated the phrase to the audience behind the screen and he hummed with approval, trailing one finger along your wet cheek. 
“Good girl…” the praise sent shivers through your wrecked body.
“And tell them from now on, your boyfriend will be the only one making you come… that they only get to see you be HIS slut.”
You noticed the chat going absolutely haywire at your announcement. Before Tamaki shut your laptop, you realized you’d made three times as much as you’d ever made before and a twisted sense of accomplishment filled your cloudy mind.
“Please,” your voice came out in a croak, “Please untie me. I wanna make it up to you,” his clothed bulge was burning into your core and you could tell he was close to breaking.
“Please let me make you feel good. I’m so, so sorry,” the clench of your thighs around his waist made him whimper.
He reluctantly pulled away to sit on the foot of the bed. The way he curled in on himself hugging his knees made him appear so small, so fragile… a complete change from the man who’d just manhandled you into restraints.
“You’re a liar…” you almost didn’t hear the whisper, his face buried into his knees.
“Please!” you were losing feeling in your hands and all you wanted was to be free to comfort him.
His eyes met yours and it was your Tamaki again... Your sweet boy… the snarling, green beast that threatened to devour you was sleeping now after it reached its fill of violence. He crawled over your body and released your restraint. Before you even regained feeling in your hands, you wrapped your arms around him. You littered his collarbone with sweet kisses and apologetic sobs. He began to melt into your affectionate gestures and you wrapped your legs around his waist pulling him impossibly close. Wet lips met and your tongues fought against each other for dominance. Hips began to roll against each other, increasing pressure until you both gasped. 
The violence was gone, but this was still not a gentle coupling like you’d been planning. Tamaki pulled away and freed his straining cock from his boxers. The skin-to-skin contact made your eyes roll back into your skull. You felt his long fingers grasp your throat, squeezing to remind you just how powerful they were. You shuddered in response, arching upward into his touch, chasing that high his dominance was giving you.
With one swift motion, Tamaki speared you onto his cock. With the minimal prep he’d given you, the stretch was agonizing. This was by far the largest cock you’d ever taken and it stole your breath from your aching lungs. You moaned earning a visceral reaction from the boy on top of you.  
Tamaki stayed as still as he could. He refused to come so soon… not when he’d waited so long for this. He tightened his grip on your throat and tentatively rocked his hips into yours. It didn’t take long for it to progress into the most frantic love-making you’d ever experienced.
There was no other way to describe it, he was hate fucking you… biting and sucking your chest until blood bloomed under your skin… hammering into your sore, sticky cunt with total abandon… he was using you like a toy, taking out all his frustrations on your body.
It was ecstasy.
When his hips stuttered as he met his release, the spasms of his tip against your gummy walls sent you into a painful orgasm. You were spent and it seemed like he was too. Your fingers twitched over the crown of his head, wanting to run your fingers through his hair but too scared to initiate any contact with him. As if he could read your mind, he grabbed your hand and placed it on his head. You sighed and began carding through the tangles, gently undoing them. You felt a stream of tears running down your chest as you worked your fingers through his strands. Lifting his face gently, you met his teary gaze with your own.
“Don’t…” he drew in a shuddering breath, “ever lie to me like that again…” the monster behind his eyes stirred quietly, a malicious glint in his eye, before shifting back into your gentle boyfriend. 
“Never, I swear to you, baby…” he lets you lift his chin gently to meet your lips. His eyes close and he sighs into your kiss. His muscles relax and when his eyes open again, his warm, adoring expression falls over your face. The hand that wanted to choke the life out of your eyes minutes ago now caresses your jaw tenderly,
“I trust you…” his lips turn up into a grin that’s just a little too wide, “Because you’re a smart girl, aren’t you?” his top lip brushed against your still trembling bottom lip…
“Y-yes…”
You were fucked. This whole situation was fucked up and you weren’t blind to the fact. But as Tamaki nuzzled into your neck placing soft kisses and whispering praises into your skin, you let yourself bask in the gentleness of the moment…
Because you were a smart girl and smart girls learn their lessons quickly... 
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astaroth1357 · 3 years
Text
Brothers React to a Demigod MC 
So, I've gotten some interest to do a Brothers follow-up to a previous request of mine (Undateables React to a Cute, Badass MC), however, I've thus far refused to write one. Honestly, this HC actually plays on a trope I personally dislike and had it not been a request I would have never done it to start with. I just can't see any reasonable way a non-magic human can beat a bunch of demons, I just can't, and that hinders my imagination quite a bit. …But someone who’s not so human? That I can get behind. Fair warning, I grew up with the Percy Jackson series so that’s going to paint quite a bit of how I see modern demigods. Ready for things to get super-ultra fanfic-y for a bit?
Intro:
The day to kidnap bring the exchange students to the Devildom has finally come and the demons have all gathered in the Council Room to open their portal to the human world. Really, things started without a hitch - the portal opened with and their future student dropped down out of it and landed on the floor… before they suddenly leapt up, pulled out a weapon, and lunged at them!
… This isn’t your normal human, it is?
Lucifer
Oh Devil, this couldn’t have been any farther than what they wanted… They were looking for a human and they managed to pull out a halfling! A divine halfling no less!! Why wasn’t this in their file?!
Look, Lucifer might not be on good terms with his father, but even he knows he had it better than any children of the pagan gods… The levels of petty vindictiveness that run through that bunch are literally the stuff of legends...
After he and Barbatos were able to restrain the MC before they hurt themselves or anyone else, Diavolo explained everything to them and gave them a pardon for attacking the Demon Prince on sight… After they identified themselves and their parentage, Lucifer knew they were in for some shit…
He and Diavolo had to iron out an apology letter to their godly parent for days just to keep from saying anything that could accidentally cause a second Troy or worse... It was a mess...
But on the bright side, the “human” came pre-prepared for fighting monsters and demons, which honestly took a bit of a load off his shoulders. That’s less responsibility for Mammon - and in his experience, the less responsibility Mammon has, the better things usually turn out.
… Though their ability to actually hold their own in a fight did make things complicated sometimes - like whenever he was their perceived opponent... 
He wasn’t expecting to have to manage a being that was actually capable of meeting him toe-to-toe on the battlefield and it did hinder his intimidation factor to some degree…It was hard to be threatening to someone who’s likely faced worse than you could ever offer.
In the end it probably worked out for the best, as a live exchange student is better for Diavolo than a dead one - but man did it get on his nerves until they made their pact together… Be scared of him, dammit!
Mammon
The first time he tried to threaten the human, they straight up pulled out a weapon and looked like they were ready to whip his ass!! Didn’t they know he wasn’t being serious?? 😫
He really didn’t know why he had to be on babysitting duty, anymore... This huma-er demigod could handle themselves just fine!
When he first ditched them with Levi, he later found out they managed to cleanly toss his brother over their head and make a break for it all by themselves! And Levi’s no pushover either!!
Later, he saw them getting ambushed on their way back from school and they soundly knocked out about five demons before he even caught up to them… and he’s, like, fast and stuff… 
Their strength is kind of unreal at times, but he could tell they were still far from a mindless killing machine. They were more or less a normal person, they had wants and dreams like anybody else, but they just happened to be a long stronger than the average mortals around them. 🤷‍♀️
After he eventually got to know them and a bit about how their life worked, he felt a little bad for them... Who wants to be hunted down just for being born?
After learning about their struggles, Mammon ended up resolving to help keep them safe (even if a part of him knew they didn’t need him that much).
I mean, if the whole world’s against you, then you can use all the help you can get... right?
Leviathan 
Levi found out exactly one thing about them within the first two minutes of meeting them… their reflexes were killer.
After Mammon ditched them on Day One, he tried to drag the human to his room to tell them his genius plan but they broke out of his grip and threw him flat on his back like was just second nature! 
He was stuck on the ground for a full minute, trying to process what just happened, while they ran off into the House all alone…
Did he just get tossed around… by a human?? Was he really that pathetic!?!
Finding out later that they were actually half-god certainly helped out his self-esteem because, man, if he had lost so easily to a human of all things... He might have just never left his room again…
Levi pretty much kept his distance from them until they finally made a pact together and then he discovered that the MC wasn’t so scary after all. If he’s being honest, being in the same house as a demigod was actually kind of cool...! 
Like, it was almost exactly the plot of the show: “Wait, I Thought I Was the Son of a Pagan God So What Am I Doing in a Christian Hell??” but their MC seemed to know a lot more about fighting than the protagonist of that show ever did…
Plus, because he never had to worry about their safety, he had even more excuse to never leave his room. Win-win!
Satan
A demigod, eh…? He had done plenty of research into human world mythologies in his spare time, frankly he thought the old gods had died out - but it seems they were still up and kicking… and making babies for whatever reason? Horny bastards...
Satan's original interest in the MC was purely academic. It’s not everyday that you get to meet someone of such a unique heritage and he fully intended to learn if all the legends about their greatness were true… and well...
He could say that the MC was certainly different than how he pictured humans being. He’d never met very many before, but from what he could gather they were a weak race that really got by on wit and persistence… However, nothing about the MC was weak.
Their aptitude for combat was surprisingly sharp, both in skill and reflexes. He had once blown up at them in anger and not only did they dodge his swipes but they got in a good few hits themselves with a nearby lamp… He never once thought a mortal could give him a black-eye but, somehow, they pulled it off. 🤷‍♀️
Combine their physical skill with what magical gifts were granted to them by their godly-half and they were a force to be reckoned with… Even Solomon seemed to hesitate and think more about his actions around them (which is saying something for a sorcerer of his strength).
It’d be fair to say a part of him grew to respect the MC long before they ever made their pact and that respect only grew afterwards. If he had to be bound to any master, human or otherwise, he’d rather it be one that he could right about consider an equal not only as a friend, but in strength as well.
Asmodeus 
A demigod…? Oooo, he hadn’t come across one of those since he bedded Aeneas all those centuries ago… Such a gorgeous man, got all his looks from his mother~! 🤭
Asmo was probably the most interested in their godly heritage, but it felt like he was treating them like a zoo exhibit for a while… Something pretty and new to look at, but not exactly someone he wanted to know personally...
He openly and readily admitted that watching their little demigod in action got him hot and bothered (or well, more hot and bothered than usual ) but it didn’t take him to see they weren’t interested at the time…
He decided that he just had to have a pact with them after they saved him from Henry 1.0! It was before he noticed the giant snake and he was lurching back to strike, but the human swept in to knock him out of the way. They probably could have made mince meat of the creature themselves if Levi weren’t begging for them to spare his former pet...
Post-pact Asmo treated them with a lot more respect… but also still fanboyed over their fighting skills hardcore. 
Like, their body had to be fit to keep up with all those monsters, right?? What was their training routine? Could he watch?? Oh please say he can watch!! He just can’t get enough of that fighter’s physique…! 😍
Beelzebub 
So… the human isn’t a human but only part human? And the other part is a god? Does that make them any sturdier than normal humans…? Call him curious…
Beel was probably one of the few brothers who was legitimately weary of the MC from the beginning… He can get a certain feel for a person pretty quickly and something about them just felt…frankly, kind of dangerous.
But they also intrigued him a little… Beel’s used to being one of the strongest demons in any room he walks into (not a boast, just a fact) so for him to get that feel from a mortal was pretty impressive. A part of him just wanted to test them… you know?
So. He did. He asked them to help him train his martial arts one day and even with his awareness, he was not expecting the results that he got.
The MC was strong. Very strong. They were not only able to keep up with him and dodge his blows, but they were able to predict his moves and counterattack in kind. They didn’t even need to tell him that they had actually been fighting for their life for years, he could tell. They had a skill you don’t get from practice matches...
After that point, the two would go to each other to train and keep their skills sharp… but also just to spar for fun. Their fighting styles made a pretty good match and they bonded pretty damn quick because of it. 
If anime tells us anything, when you find a good fight buddy, you stick with them. Even if one’s part god and the other is a demon. 🤷‍♀️ 
Belphegor 
A demigod is still human enough to hate, sorry MC. Not that he knew about their godly heritage at first…
Really, he should have been a little more suspicious of how easily they seemed to take to life in the Devildom... Weren’t demons supposed to scare humans? Why did they seem so comfortable down here...?
His confirmation only came when he tried to enact the final part of “Use the MC to Escape the Attic!” plan and take their life to seal the deal… but oh boy, was he outclassed real quick… 
The MC had already socked him in the jaw by the time he got his full demon form out and then they threw him across the room by the tail… the TAIL!! And it hurt like a bitch, too!! Even during the full blown fight that followed, he could tell they were holding back and it pissed him off something fierce...!
Why was the MC so strong?!? Humans weren’t supposed to be strong!!!
His brothers heard all the commotion and the Lilith confrontation ended up happening up in the attic between a somewhat beat-up Belphie and a barely-scratched MC. Had Beel not come to his defense on instinct, it might have turned out worse for him in all honesty… Something about that human just wasn’t right…
He only found out about their god-half after everything settled down and he promised not to try killing them again (not that anyone thought he could...) and that put some things into perspective. So the Lastborn Ruler of Hell isn’t as strong as one mortal demigod…? Ouch. Okay, fine then... Whatever...
He does think it’s too bad he missed them beating the crap out of the rest of his brothers, though (minus Beel)... That would have been fun to see. 😔
So I tried to keep this one God-parent neutral, but I’ve upgraded this to its own series! Check it out if you’re interested! 😊
Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes
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wizkiddx · 3 years
Text
living and reviving II
yep when I said three parts I think I meant 4 oops
summary: an overdue conversation that has to happen - like it or not
warnings: cheating, swearing, pregnancy talk, lots more angst, think thats it?
tomhollandxreader
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So with a new sense of dread and fear and complete and total isolation you uttered three single words before hysterically running away.
“Don’t follow me.”
Not now, not ever.
That had been three weeks ago.
And it still fucking hurt like hell.
It had ended up that Yamna had taken you back to hers, where you had stayed for a couple nights. During that couple of days, Tom had tried. He had tried to apologise, tried to explain, tried to fix things. But it just wasn’t that easy.
Whatever he said, it didn’t take back from the fact that he had in that moment meant it. So no amount of sorrys could ever take that back.
After everyone had realised just how serious their situation was, Tom had moved out of your shared flat - so you could at least be in the place you were comfortable. Afterall the nursery was built in your flat and clearly it was you doing all the baby stuff for the moment. Thankfully Yamna, having been cut loose so without job, offered to move in with you. Which was probably the only thing keeping you going.
Well, that and ben and jerrys ‘phish food’. Honestly the shop must think you’re running some sort of ice cream black market at the rate you’re getting through their tubs.
Everyone kept parroting that it wasn’t good for the baby. Too much ice cream . Too much heavy lifting. Too much stress.
And yes, it probably was. But that was out of your control . The stress and lack of man in the household meant you had to do the heavy lifting of shopping from the car up the stairs. Shopping meaning ice cream, which you only depended on so much because of the stress.
It was a vicious cycle of hell.
Even Yamna, the person you were relying on keeping you sane had started walking on eggshells. It was as though you were literally about to pop, she always had to have at least half an eye on you. You were even banned from locking the toilet door - just in case.
It felt like you were a captive animal, people kept coming to observe you, giving sad looks before gleeing the scene.
You hadn’t been sleeping well either. Of course, being 3 weeks of your due date didn’t help - but neither did the lack of Tom. In fact, for the first time since shit had hit the fan, you had actually been managing to get some decent sleep when Yamna knocked on your bedroom door, quietly calling your name.
“I’m asleep” Groaning, you pulled the covers further over your head, praying to god that she’d leave you alone. But of course that wasn’t happening, she just lightly chuckled before you felt the bed dip - she had perched on the edge… Toms side.
“You never normally sleep talk.”
“I’m never normally this sleep deprived.” She sighed, whilst you still stubbornly kept your eyes closed.
“I’m sorry I woke you…. but this is important.”
“What?” Almost grunting, you threw the covers down looking up at her in anticipation. That was another thing about pregnancy - you were always on high alert, always worried.
“Toms here.”
“Tell him to f off.” Quickly you stopped caring about what your bestmate had to say.
“He’s saying that he’s the little ones dad and that he deserves to be involved and…. and I think I might agree.”
“I deserve a boyfriend who stays loyal to me so clearly neither of us are getting what we want.” You weren’t angry at Yamna and snapping at her wasn’t the answer. And yet you still did it.
“Y/n….I love you and I am completely on your side. I just think that maybe, perhaps, you should at least manage to be civil before baby arrives. Otherwise… thats going to be a lot to deal with all at once.”
It was your turn to sigh, deep and heavy (or at least as deep as the baby let). Most infuriatingly she was right. The conversation had to happen at some point. With a baby there too it would only be even more traumatic.
“He’s here now?” It only dawned on you how broken you actually sounded when the words croaked out of you.
“Yeh hunny… I didn’t let him inside so he’s standing outside the door looking like a dickhead right now.” The image cheered you up a little, enough to sit up in bed and be wrapped in Yamna’s arms. Her actions said it all, she really only meant the best for you and knew how hard this would be. After a moment she leant back. “I almost considered calling the paps so they could get a picture and label him as a groveling dick.”
“You should of.” Of course you didn’t mean it, but the answer had you both laughing. It took a minute to calm down before she changed subject slightly.
“You want me to make myself scarce? I can hide in my room or go to the shops or-“
“Text the guy from the bar - you deserve a night off ‘babysitting Y/n’ duties.”
“I’m not babys-“
“Yes you are. Go out with him and have some fun, I’ll be fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yeh”
That was a bare face lie - but Yamna had been almost too good to you. She really really needed a break. Especially as the current plan was she’d be helping with the newborn too. Right now you wouldn’t have wished a baby on yourself - never mind your best mate.
“Okay, get ready then babe - but do it slowly, leave him waiting outside in the cold for as long as possible.”
“Obviously.” You laughed, hauling yourself out of bed, where she gave you one more encouraging hug before leaving.
After hearing Yamna leave, and brushing your hair and throwing on a new pair of trakkies and hoodie, you slowly walked towards the door. It felt as though impending doom were on the other side and every fibre of you wanted to scream and run the other way. But it just had to happen at some point. Why not now?
With a final sharp exhale, attempting to pull yourself together, you opened the door. Immediately your heart sank, seeing nothing. Had you really been that long? And even so, was a 10 minute wait enough for him to give up? You could already feel the hormonal pregnancy tears starting to spring, when a grunt drew your attention.
What you hadn’t considered was the fact Tom was ready to camp out, sitting on the floor beside your door. Springing to his feet, he seemed shocked you’d actually opened the door - makes two of you. When Yamna left she had told him you were coming, but seeing really is believing.
“Y/n! I-I… I wasn’t sure you were ever going to answer.”
“You and me both.” You replied dryly, still leaning on the door. “Do you er…. do you want to come in?” Again he seemed shocked, as though he wasn’t sure you meant it.
“Is that-that okay?” Shrugging you just nodded, stepping back so he could get in. He did pay half the mortgage afterall.
“You want a drink?” He quickly declined your offer, not vocally but instead rushing past you to the kitchen and turning the kettle on himself.
“Your the pregnant one. Go chill on the sofa, I’ll bring you a cuppa.”
And a bit taken a back by his forcefulness you followed instructions, from the sofa watching how effortlessly he danced round the kitchen. It wasn’t shocking, it was technically his kitchen too. But seeing him there felt so alien, almost transporting you back to much much simpler times. Seemed a lifetime ago.
After a couple of minutes, he rounded the sofa with a hot chocolate in one hand for you (because caffiene is bad for the baby) and a cup of Yorkshire tea in the other.
“So… how have you been?”
“Ate a lot of ben and jerrys” You answered without really answering, except he knew you all too well.
“That bad?” He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his brow “how about the baby?”
“I don’t tend to carry an ultrasound on me but she’s been keeping me up all night kicking - so normal I guess.”
“Thats good” He spoke before realising what he said. “Sorry no I um-I don’t mean it like that!” You all but laughed in the face of his flusteredness, only making the tips of his ears go pinker.
“I assume you had something to say and that you came here for a reason rather than just pity me?”
“I want to make things right Y/n - I-I mean your having my kid.”
“OUR kid”
“ Exactly! And-and I love you too and-“
“Bullshit” You may have murmured it under your breath but you had intended for him to hear.
“Oh come one Y/n, you know that!”
It was like the man was asking to be yelled at.
“Don’t sit there trying to patronise me! I THOUGHT i knew it but then I saw you all over another girl. So yes, I’m calling bullshit.”
“Ugh I… If your not going to even try to hear me out then…”
“Then what Tom? You gonna kick me out. I mean this is your flat after all! Maybe you’d like to dump the mother of your unborn child homeless on the street and forget about us - how’d that sound? I’m sure your fans would blindly applaud you.”
“Listen! Please would you just listen to me.” His voice was loud and tone harsh, making you flinch a little. Not because you were ever worried he’d hurt you - but how this wave of uncomfort shuddered through your body, baby even squirming in discontent. So focused on that you just nodded, shifting back into the sofa.
Tom had noticed your reaction and seeing you seemingly scared of him like that, well it broke his heart. Even more.
“Sorry I didn’t mean to shout, I just…. I really need to try and fix this.” He leaned closer, letting out a thankful breath when you just nodded, as if to say go on.
“I’ve really really missed you… these past couple of weeks I’ve never felt so gulity in my life. Not because of what I did! Well yeh that but-but more how much it hurt you and-“
“Fuck.”
You couldn’t help but let out that little curse of pain as a new wave of pain, which seemed to originate from your lower back, shuddered through you. Tom looked up from where his eyes had been nervously wringing his palms whilst he spoke. Rubbing a hand over your belly you shook your head and motioned for him to continue.
She was just kicking really really hard. Right?
“Uhm yeh so I just wanted to properly tell you everything that happened that night so at least we are on the same page? A-And I’m not going to try and use this an excuse but I had been drinking so-“
Seemingly baby disliked the end of that sentence too, causing another rippling wave to echo through your body, feeling as though a band was pressing tightly round your stomach. With another small curse it forced you to stand up, in the hope that’d ease her. Clearly she was as done with his shit as you were.
“Need a water.” You muttered, already waddling to the kitchen, where you heard Tom follow you immediately - like an inpatient dog.
“Y/n sit down I can-“
He was silenced by you freezing and grabbing his arm tightly - a physical contact he hadn’t been expecting from you.
“Tom… get your phone.” You spoke slowly, still not having dared to have moved an inch - fingers almost white from how tightly you were squeezing his forearm.
“Wha-are you-are you okay?”
“I think my waters just broke. Get the phone. Now.”
~~~ feedback is really appreciated + would love to know what u think as still in the process of writing so can be guided / helped by asks !!! ~~~
taglist: @maraudersandco @@minejungwoo @sippin-on-tea @thegirlintheswivelchair @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08 @prancerrparkerr @wildxwidow @arctic-monkcys @ownbauer13 @tomhollandlol @marvelsbitch8 @peterr-parkourr @lizzyclifford13-blog @user1683 @elishi03
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becasbelt · 2 years
Note
Any hope of you writing a Spiderman story??? I know there are several stories in the fandom, but I'm really dying to see a story of yours where Beca is like Peter Parker and Chloe is like Mary Jane. It would be amazing to see how you would pull it off.
I will be quite honest, anon. I had absolutely no plans of ever writing a spiderman story. none at all. but I saw this message and SOMEHOW came up with nearly three thousand words of spiderman beca overnight.
I'm not sure whether to thank you or curse you, but here's a little taste of some spider-beca.
(also on ao3)
Beca hated rush hour.
And no not for the typical ugh traffic is taking so long I’ve been stuck here forever is there a crash up ahead or do people just not know how to drive type of reasons. In fact, Beca hardly noticed traffic issues at all, though that’s to be expected when her preferred mode of transportation was web-slinging.
Fuck. That was disgustingly cheesy. She was starting to sound like some lame comic book character.
Beca wasn’t too fond of comics, either.
But that was unrelated.
No, Beca did not loathe rush hour because of traffic. She hated it because it was so fucking noisy.
Sure, New York was a noisy place to live. Beca had known that from the moment she knew what noise was. The hustle and bustle of one of the biggest cities in the world was bound to come with more than a few car honks and pedestrians screaming at each other to get out of their way.
The city that never sleeps? More like the city that never shuts up.
Ha. That was a good one. She should quit the hero work and become a comedian.
Anyways.
New York was always busy, always loud, and always always crowded, but rush hour intensified all three to new levels of ridiculousness.
Unfortunately, rush hour seemed to be when Beca had the most business.
Business. Pfft. As if she got actually paid to keep the city safe. Maybe she should look into that superhero organization that tried to recruit her after all. What were they called again? Sword? Armor? Shield?
Whatever. She’d go look at their business card when she got home.
The music blaring through her headphones helped to drown out the near overwhelming cacophony of the streets below her perch on top of some apartment building. Kombucha plays on her playlist while she eats a donut, eyes lazily scanning the area for any shifty-looking activity may be going on.
That was another thing about rush hour. It was so hard to spot shithead criminals stealing purses amidst the sea of New Yorkers getting off work.
A shift in the air to her left makes Beca instinctively turn her head and she spots some guy approaching a nearby ATM. She watches with minimal interest, eating her donut and waiting to see if the man is up to anything sketchy.
Oh, her powers? How’d she get them? Great question. One that Beca hated answering.
There was a field trip. Her class went into some creepy bug room. Spider bites Beca – ouch – and the next morning she wakes up completely stuck to her blankets.
It was a weird time, first discovering that she was basically a part-time spider, but Beca doesn’t really mind. She doesn’t have to wear glasses anymore and her skin is clear, so. Positives.
ATM guy starts hitting buttons more aggressively and kicking the machine, so Beca figures it’s time to intervene. She shoves the last of her donut into her mouth and pulls her mask down securely over her face before jumping right off the edge of the building. The speed at which she hurls toward the ground doesn’t even make Beca’s stomach flip anymore, and she waits until the last possible second before shooting out two lines of webs and propelling herself forward through the air.
She makes it to the ATM in about ten seconds flat, in which time the man has begun attempting to shove his hand into the slot where the cash comes out as if it was a vending machine.
“Really, dude? You’re going to go about it like that?” Beca asks, pushing her headphones to lay around her neck. The man spins around in surprise and stares at her like he might piss his pants. “You could have at least watched someone put in their information first. Or held someone at gunpoint. Either option would be more effective, honestly.”
The man blushes. “I don’t like guns very much,” he mumbles, looking as embarrassed as Beca thinks he ought to feel.
Beca grins behind her mask. “You and I might just get along after all, pal,” she says, nodding in approval. A sudden commotion behind her causes Beca to glance over her shoulder.
Speaking of guns. There appears to be a bank robbery happening.
Beca turns back to the ATM guy, needing to act fast. She shoots a web at him, catching his hand and sticking him to the wall behind him. “I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere,” she tells him. He mutters something like “no problem” as she runs toward the bank, flinging herself across the street and over the tops of cars.
There are three people in ski masks when Beca slips inside the door, all of them brandishing guns on the poor bank workers and customers cowering on the floor. So far it doesn’t appear as though anyone has been hurt, which is good. Beca would like it to stay that way.
“Hey, let’s take it easy, fellas.”
All three criminals whirl on her, guns at the ready, and Beca raises her hands up in surrender.
“Spidergirl,” the man in the middle says. The one off to his right curses under his breath.
“So you’ve heard of me,” Beca drawls. “That’s nice. I don’t like introductions, anyway. Although, I’m afraid I don’t know you all that well.”
“We don’t want any trouble,” the middle man speaks up again. Ah, so he must be the leader. “We just want our money and then we’ll be out of your hair. No one has to get hurt.”
Beca clicks her tongue and shakes her head as if he just gave the wrong answer in class. “You see, buddy, you’ve already made trouble,” she sighs. “And it’s kinda my job to stop you. But-” Beca extends one hand out toward the leader and the guy to his right flinches- “I’ll make you a deal: walk away now and I won’t call the police.” She tilts her head. Pauses. Reconsiders. “Actually, I lied. You’re definitely going to jail. But if you put your guns down I won’t kick your asses.”
The leader spits at her feet. “Fuck you,” he snarls, and Beca rolls her eyes.
“They never learn,” she says to herself, and then all three guns are firing and all she can do is avoid getting hit.
There’s screaming from the people huddled on the ground, and Beca is just barely aware of them all scrambling to find cover. She keeps herself away from the crowd as best she can, keeping all of the criminals’ attention on her.
She slides across the floor towards the leader and grabs one of his ankles, and with one quick tug he’s flat on his back with a groan. The other two keep firing, so Beca shoots a web at both of them, pulling so that they fly toward her with matching yelps. They slam into each other with a painful sounding crunch and crumple to the ground next to where the leader lays.
Beca spares the three of them a pitiful look before wrapping them all up and suspending them from the ceiling with a single web, their heads hanging a foot above the floor.
Three guns clatter to the ground. Beca kicks them away with tut just as the telltale sound of sirens approach outside. By the time the door bursts open, four cops charging in with guns at the ready, Beca is leaning casually against her captives while the rest of the people in the bank attempt to pull themselves together.
“There was a robbery,” Beca says, like an asshole, and the cops share mixed reactions of relief and disappointment. One rolls his eyes and mutters “superheroes” under his breath as he holsters his weapon.
Beca starts toward the door, figuring her work here is done, but spins around at the last second when she remembers what she was doing before this. “Oh, by the way, there’s a guy stuck to an ATM across the street because he tried to steal from it. Does he get, like, a fine for that? A warning? I just need to know what to tell him.”
* * *
Spidergirl has faced many life-endangering threats without breaking a sweat, but this meeting may just be the death of Beca.
Her boss drones on and on about revenue and contracts and partnerships and all the while Beca tries to pretend she isn’t about to fall asleep in her chair at the back of the room. She didn’t care about any of this shit. She was here to make music, not talk about 401k’s.
Beca is just about to doze off, chin tucked down toward her chest, when a snapping of fingers under her nose causes her to shoot upright again. She looks around in alarm, almost expecting an attack, but relaxes when she sees that it’s just Chloe giggling next to her.
“Late night last night?” Chloe asks, keeping her voice down so as not to disturb the meeting.
Beca groans quietly. “You have no idea,” she replies. There had been a whole situation last night involving tracks getting blown up and trains almost falling off said tracks because of it. It had taken almost all night to stop the trains from running, secure the rails, and track down the perps responsible for the explosion.
Chloe gives her a look. “You know, you really need to get out of the habit of staying up all night making mixes,” she whispers, leaning in close to Beca. “One of these days I won’t be here for one of these meetings, and then there will be no one here to make sure that you don’t end up drooling while you nap.”
Beca scoffs a little. “I do not drool,” she says haughtily. She turns to look at Chloe with narrowed eyes. Chloe’s eyes slowly trace down her face, settling on the corner of her mouth with one eyebrow raised.
Beca’s eyes widen, and she automatically goes to wipe at her mouth, only to discover absolutely no drool to be found. Chloe snorts out a quiet laugh and Beca turns toward the front of the room, arms crossing as she looks resolutely back at her boss. “I hate you,” she tells Chloe.
She does not, in fact, hate Chloe. In reality, Chloe was pretty much her best friend at the studio. It was kind of inevitable that they became friends, really. They were both interns, although Chloe was an intern on the PR side of things while Beca interned with all the producers. Their work didn’t overlap all that much with each other, but both of their responsibilities did include making several coffee runs in a day for their higher ups, which meant that they spent a good chunk of the day goofing off in the break room.
And flirting. They did a lot of that, too. Or, at least, Beca attempted to flirt. She still couldn’t decide if Chloe’s flirting was intentionally directed toward Beca, or if she was just a flirtatious person in general. Either way, if Chloe called her cute while biting her lip one more time, Beca was sure that she would find out if webs could come out of her ears if she blushed hard enough.
The uncontrollable webs seemed to be a recurring problem around Chloe, actually. Beca didn’t know if it was because her mind tended to shut down around pretty girls, or if it was specifically Chloe that sent all of her super-secret powers haywire, but Beca had a feeling that one of these days she would do something really embarrassing, like shoot a web at Chloe’s face on accident. And that would be hard to cover up.
One time they’d been in the break room, chatting casually about different playlists they’d made, when Chloe mentioned having a sex playlist. Beca’s face had gone so red and before she could even blink the coffee machine she was using was coated in a thick layer of webs. Luckily Chloe’s back had been turned, the other girl preoccupied with making her own coffee, and what had followed had been the most stressful thirty seconds of Beca’s miserable life as she struggled to tear the webs away as quickly and quietly as she could before Chloe noticed her mess.
Really it was a miracle that only one person in the entire world knew her secret. And considering that it was her best friend Amy who normally could not keep a secret to save her life, it was even more of a miracle.
By the end of the day, Beca has luckily avoided any web-related accidents and somehow managed to stay awake. As she packs up her bag to head out, all she can think about it getting home to her soft, warm bed and taking a nice, long nap. She sees Chloe waiting for her by the door and feels her eyes droop with affection. Would it be weird if she asked Chloe if she’d like to take a nap with her? That would totally be weird. Chloe has mentioned that she likes weird, though.
Beca makes her way to Chloe and has just managed to pluck up the courage to ask her if she’d want to hang out at her place – just hang out, but if it turned into a nap… Beca would mind – but as soon as she opens her mouth to speak her wristwatch starts beeping.
Goddammit. Not now, she tells the universe, silencing the device. She smiles at Chloe, who is still waiting patiently for her. “Hey, would you maybe want to-”
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Beca groans and gives Chloe an apologetic grimace. “Two seconds,” she tells her, holding up a finger and taking a few steps away. Chloe waves her off, telling her it’s fine. As quickly as she can, Beca pulls out her phone and puts it to her ear, spinning around and speaking into it with gritted teeth. “Amy, I’m kind of busy at the moment.”
“Sorry, shortstack, but we’ve got a situation. There’s a fire downtown and the fire department is having trouble evacuating everyone. Looks like it could get ugly pretty soon.” There’s a pause. “Well, the fire could get ugly. The firefighters are as sexy as ever.”
Beca sighs and glances over her shoulder at where Chloe is standing by the door. “Give me the address and I’ll be on my way,” she says, already mourning her evening plans.
Amy hangs up after rattling off the address of the building and Beca makes her way back over to Chloe. “Ready to go?” Chloe asks, pulling the door open a little.
“I, uh, left my laptop in one of the booths,” Beca lies, gesturing toward the back of the studio. “You go on without me, I gotta go grab it.”
Chloe has never been one to hide how she’s feeling, so the disappointment on her face is as clear as day. “Oh,” she says, and Beca feels her heart twitch regretfully. “Well, alright. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah, tomorrow,” Beca affirms, already taking quick steps away from Chloe. She gives a hasty wave before she’s jogging toward one of the bathrooms near the back of the studio, the one with the window large enough to slip through after she’s gotten her suit on.
Beca makes quick work of her clothes, shoving her pants, shirt, and boots into her bag and stashing the bag in its usual hiding spot in the vent before wrestling her way into her suit. Stupid spandex she thinks, hopping around as she struggles to get her leg in the tight black and red material. Eventually she gets the damn thing on and starts putting her hair up to slip her mask on, hair tie held between her teeth.
The back of her neck tingles and she has no time to react before the door to the bathroom is opening behind her, a shocked gasp emitting from the person who has just stumbled into Beca’s biggest secret.
Beca freezes with her hands still in her hair and squeezes her eyes shut. She counts to three before opening them again and slowly spins around.
Chloe stands in the doorway, blue eyes wide and jaw dropped as she stares at Beca, clad in her suit, no mask in sight.
The hair tie drops from between Beca’s teeth. “Shit.”
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mercy-burning · 3 years
Text
Heatwave
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: The air conditioning is out at the BAU, so things get very hot—in more ways than one. Category: Smut 18+ (penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie / minor breeding kink, sex in an elevator) Warnings: Sex, language (As always, if there’s anything I missed, please let me know what I should include in warnings! I want to be as mindful as I can about what I post. Thank you!) Word Count: 3.7k
MASTERLIST
***
"Oh, fuck, that's it!"
The exclamation nearly knocked Spencer off his feet. He would know her voice anywhere, so he didn't have to look to know that it was Y/N, but he looked anyway, sure enough spotting her on the opposite end of the bullpen, sorting through files at her desk.
If Hotch was any closer, he would have given her a warning look to signal his distaste for her swearing in the office, but his door was shut while he talked with someone so it never came.
"Wha—what did you find?" Spencer got out after clearing his throat to compose himself. It was bad enough he had already been distracted by her before, thinking about what it would be like to feel her hands weaved through his hair as she kissed him, but then she had to say that sentence of all things, slightly enhancing the fantasy.
It also didn't help that the air conditioning in the building was currently out, and in the middle of August. So when he looked up, he saw a low-cut, baby pink tank top with lace detailing on the hem, and a pulled-up hairdo that perfectly exposed her neck, which was currently glistening in a thin sheen of sweat. The way she leaned back in her chair, her legs crossed under a loose, knee-length floral skirt as she mulled over her file was giving him too many bad ideas, and it was a wonder he hadn't been caught or called out yet—everyone could always tell when he was thinking or off in his own world.
"Oh," Y/N said, briefly craning her head to meet his eyes. It took everything he had not to shudder when their gazes finally met. "I just misplaced one of my files, that's all. I was afraid I'd lost it. But it's right here," she said with a nervous laugh. "I didn't... bother you did I?"
"Oh! N—no, you didn't bother me at all, I... I was just wondering, that's all. I—I'm glad you found your file." He hated that he stumbled over his words, but when she looked at him like that, that sickeningly sweet kindness in her eyes that never wavered when she talked to him, he couldn't help it. She was easily the most intimidatingly angelic presence he'd ever met, in every capacity possible.
Even as she quickly frowned and shifted slightly in her chair, her eyes didn't lose that sparkle. But it was still evident that she was uncomfortable, so Spencer spoke again. "Are you okay?"
She set the file down on her desk and sat up straighter, bringing her back up off the chair as she uncrossed her legs. "Yeah, I'm fine, it's just the heat. I hate it. I'm definitely more of a cold, rainy day-type of girl, I guess."
Odd, considering you're just about the warmest soul I've ever met, he thought. Even as she talked about her distaste for the heat, she kept her voice light and her eyes kind.
"Hmm," is all he said, shortly and barely loud enough for her to hear.
The rest of the day seemed to pass by rather quickly, which Spencer was thankful for; the longer the day moved forward, the hotter it got, and it proved to be more distracting than he wanted to admit.
But soon he would be able to go home and take a cold shower, for one thing to cool off, but for another to relieve some of this feeling Y/N had been making him feel. He tried really hard throughout the day not to look at her, but he always found himself drawn to her anyway, and each time it happened he thought of dirtier and dirtier things, scenarios that he was positive could only happen in his wildest dreams.
But as usual, things didn't seem to work in his favor today. Just as he and Y/N were about to get onto the elevator, Hotch walked by, calling to them. "Sorry to ask you guys of this, but could you stay another hour or two? There are more files I need to get sorted, and I know it's hot, so I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but it would be helpful if I had an extra set of hands."
Two more hours at most, he could manage that, right? And at least he'd have more files to keep him occupied, something to focus on.
Hotch sent them to the file room with a list of the files he needed, and then it was just the two of them, stepping onto the elevator and sealing their fate.
It wasn't four seconds after the elevator started moving that it stopped and the lights inside dimmed red.
"Wait, what's happening?" Y/N asked, slightly panicked.
Spencer was just as puzzled. "I... I'm not sure. Maybe it has something to do with the heat?"
About a minute passed before she sighed, shoving her phone in her bag. "Yeah. Just got a text from Garcia, the power in the building shut down so they could fix the air conditioning. It's gonna take like a half hour."
"A—A half hour? Really?" He tried not to show how nervous it made him, but truthfully he didn't think it would work.
Y/N sighed. "Yeah... It's... fine, though, I mean, maybe someone will try to get us out."
"But we're in between two floors..."
Another sigh. "And it's hot as hell in here. Great... So much for going home early."
Spencer snuck a glance over at her, almost immediately regretting it when he looked her over. Under the deep red glow of the emergency lights, she looked absolutely sinful. Her bag was dropped on the ground and she leaned against the wall, her arms crossed and pushing up her breasts. Her head was leaned back and her eyes closed as she took deep breaths, no doubt trying to stay as calm as one could be in this situation. He noticed every breath she took, her chest rising and falling and her skin glowing. And in that moment he embarrassingly felt something stir in his lower stomach, only made worse by the fact that it was, as she'd phrased it, 'hot as hell' in the elevator. He was hot and practically squirming as he stood there, ogling Y/N like she was the only woman he'd ever seen before.
As if it couldn't get any worse, she opened her eyes quickly and caught him staring at her chest. He didn't seem to notice because, well, his eyes were elsewhere, so she closed them once more and smirked to herself for the briefest of seconds, an idea striking her brain like a match.
She brought her arms to slowly un-cross and stretch outwards to her sides, arching her back and puffing out her chest as she gripped the rail of the elevator. The moment she opened her eyes, she saw that Spencer's head was directed pointedly to the floor. She smiled a little, keeping her arms stretched out across the rail as she took him in.
The first thing she took notice of was how his hair stuck to his face, wavy and damp with sweat. His fingers tapped against his legs, and that's what she looked at the longest. Every time his middle finger tapped the outside of his thigh, she imagined that he was doing it to her clit, and she could practically feel it throb to the slow, steady beat of his finger. Her hands gripped the rail tighter and she crossed her legs, contemplating whether or not she should take advantage of this moment to finally do something about this tension she'd been feeling between them for the past year and a half.
The truth is, she'd always had a crush on him since they started working together. But when she started her job at the BAU, he was... a little odd. Every time she would join in conversation, he'd made it a point to look almost inconvenienced by her presence. At first she had to wonder if maybe he just didn't like her. And if that was the case, she didn't want to make it worse by asking him about it, so she left it alone. But then she noticed how he was like that with everyone, and then over time he seemed to get better. Eventually he warmed up to her and the two of them became fast friends. He'd quickly transformed from a guy who always seemed annoyed with everyone and into the adorably shy, brilliant man everyone had told her he was when she first got the job.
Now there had been almost two years' worth of a different kind of tension between them, and in this moment in the elevator, Y/N wanted to do something about it. Or at least try.
She thought for a moment, trying to find the best way to bring it up. Should she be straightforward? You know, flat-out tell him that she's liked him for a long time and wanted to kiss his face off? Or did she want to have more fun with it? Because she admittedly loved seeing him get flustered every time he noticed her noticing him staring at her, but if he really didn't feel the same way, she didn't want to come on too strong and ruin this thing they'd built.
Ultimately, Y/N decided to try a little of both.
She cleared her throat to catch his attention. "Hey, Spence?"
When he looked up at her, his stomach flipped again. Fuck, she was just so breathtaking, her arms spread and her legs crossed like she was the queen of the elevator and he was trespassing just by being there. Her chin was tilted upwards, exposing more of her neck, and it almost made him fall over. "Y—Yeah?" he stammered quietly, trying and failing to sound calm.
"What should we do to pass the time? I'm bored."
If he didn't know any better, he would have sworn he she was suggesting they— No. There was no way. He'd been a total jerk to her when they first met, and even though they were much friendlier now, Spencer wasn't sure she could ever want to do anything like that with him.
Right?
"Um... I—I don't know. Your phone works, doesn't it? Do you, um... Do you have anything you could do there?"
She shrugged, tilting her head to the side. "Battery's almost dead, and I want to save it in case something happens and we get stuck in here for longer than thirty minutes... I was thinking, actually... We haven't really gotten to know each other that well, and maybe would play... like 20 Questions or something."
"Oh..." He swallowed, shifting on his feet and blinking. "Well, um... W—what do you want to know?"
"Hmm... Favorite color?" She knew it was purple, but she wanted to hear him talk. Get him comfortable.
"Purple. What's yours?"
She leaned forward off the rail a little, and Spencer swallowed again, suddenly feeling a burst of warmth through his body.
"Light pink," Y/N said softly, "like so light that it's almost white."
He glanced down at her chest again, only for a moment to take in her shirt, which he'd remembered was the same color.
She continued. "What's your favorite snack food?"
"Pretzels."
"Me, too. Hmm... Favorite candle scent?"
"Peppermint."
"Spearmint. Favorite Star Wars movie?"
"Return of the Jedi."
"A New Hope. Favorite sex position?"
"Doggy."
She didn't say another word.
He wasn't even aware of the situation until about five seconds later, when she raised an eyebrow at him and his whole world came crumbling down.
As he visibly struggled to find words, Y/N only continued in conversation. "That surprises me. I would have thought you'd be more of a cowgirl guy."
If the way her voice sounded when she talked to him was the handle, then the way her eyes bore into his own was the blade, both of them coming together to create the weapon that would be his ultimate demise. The only thing missing was that twist of the blade, the one that would make sure he was gone for good, and the moment she leaned completely off the railing and took a small step towards him, he realized that final ingredient was her touch. If she touched him, he was done for.
"Aren't you gonna ask me what mine is? That's how the game works."
There's no way she wasn't flirting with him... Right? He was never good at picking up on those kinds of things, but she was being so obvious about it, stepping closer and closer to him with her chest puffed out and her head tilted to the side to reveal her neck. She was inviting him in, right? Especially after asking him to ask her that question.
That question...
Right.
"Um..." Spencer swallowed before speaking, his voice barely discernible. "What's... y—your favorite sex position?"
"Doggy. Especially standing up," she said with what was most definitely a flirty smile. "Looks like you and I have quite a bit in common."
"Y—yeah, I guess we... do..."
By now she had him backed against the other side of the elevator, and as soon as he felt his back hit the rail, he swallowed again, bringing his hand up to the collar of his shirt to relieve some of the heat he was feeling.
It didn't work, unsurprisingly.
"Look, if... If I'm overstepping, you should tell me. But I've liked you for a long time, and I feel like I'd be dumb to waste the perfect opportunity to tell you... So... The elevator probably won't be fixed for another twenty minutes at least, and since we're already on the subject... Maybe we should find another way to pass the time?"
Spencer noticed that she was careful not to actually touch him unless he gave her the go-ahead, and if anything it made him want her even more. She was giving him an out, and he knew that if he told her 'no', she wouldn't push it.
But here she was, in all her beautiful, radiant glory, practically inviting him to indulge in some of his biggest fantasies, and he would have to be brain-dead to pass that up. Even if he was a little nervous.
He tried to give her permission in a way that didn't make himself come off as some obsessed admirer, a shaky, breathy laugh exhaling from his throat before he spoke. "Well, it's already hot as hell in here, so... What's a little more heat?"
At first he regretted saying it, scared it was stupid and most definitely a mood-killer, but the way she practically lunged at him completely washed away all the worries written in the sand. And when her body pressed firmly against his, her lips coming to capture his in the most burning kiss he'd ever had, the waves crashed even stronger, loud with searing desire as warm as the August sun.
Immediately he brought his hands to cradle her face, loving the way he almost engulfed her with their size. He moved his lips against hers eagerly as her hands worked at unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt. She only got the first few done before pulling away, and despite the heat, Spencer felt cold without her pressed up against him.
It took a moment for him to realize what was happening, but when she suddenly turned them both around and bent forward, leaning out to grab the rail, he felt warm again.
She turned her head around to look at him with a smile through a bit bottom lip as she reached one of her hands under her skirt and slowly pulled her panties down. Almost as soon as they hit the floor, pooling around her ankles, she lifted the skirt up and revealed herself to him, slowly running her fingers through her pussy.
"It's all yours, Doctor Reid," she said lowly, spreading her legs as far as they could go with her panties still confining her ankles.
He hadn't even realized he'd undone his pants until they were at his feet and his dick was in his hand. How had she managed to have that great of an affect on him?
He promptly decided he didn't care how, as he stepped forward and brought himself up to her ass and ran the head of his cock through her pussy, briefly meeting her fingers as he did so. "Are you sure?" he asked. Because once he started, he wouldn't be able to stop. He already lost his mind just being in her presence, but being this close to her, fucking her in a broken elevator would surely hinder his ability to think about anything rationally, let alone at all.
"Fuck me, please," she all but begged, pushing herself back a little to encourage him. Either that or she was just desperate, though there was a good chance it was both.
In any case, that was all he needed, the trigger that set him off, and within seconds he was plunged deep inside her, the both of them softly moaning out at how it felt.
Spencer set a steady pace, his hands firmly gripping her waist as she pushed back to meet his every move. Each thrust forward was another twist of the blade that sealed his fate, only made more brutal by the pure filth that dripped from Y/N's lips, a symphony of long, drawn out moans and curses that sounded just as loving as they did pornographic.
When she bent forward even more, so much that he could see her hands outstretched on the rail, it gave him the deepest angle he could possibly be at, and she clenched herself around him, calling out his name.
"Fuck, Y/N, keep doing that," Spencer breathed out, shutting his eyes at the sensation.
He could hear her laugh a little. "That feel good, baby? Huh, you like when my pussy clings to you?"
Each word was fuel that quickened his pace inside of her, and joined with the way his hands were wrapped around her, the very tips of his fingers felt her stomach bulge at every snap of his hips. He spread his right hand across her lower stomach to feel it, groaning out as he did.
He didn't even realize he'd said his next words out loud, but after she groaned out and clenched around him tighter, he knew she'd heard and liked what he was saying.
"God, I wanna cum inside you so fucking bad..."
She turned her head again to see him as best as she could, doing the most to come off as desperate as she felt. "Fuck, Spence, do it, please, I want your cum inside me, please..."
A few more quick thrusts inside of her was enough to make her cum, her mouth open in a silent scream as she stopped moving back against him and just let him pound into her. He followed closely behind, brokenly moaning out her name as he stilled and pulsated inside of her.
"Ohh, that's it," she said to him with wonder as she stayed clamped tightly around him, trying to get every last drop. "Fuck, that feels so fucking good..."
In a moment of blind lust at her words, Spencer pulled out just until only the tip was inside, before quickly and deeply fucking into her once more, holding himself inside for about five seconds as she cried out. He repeated that so many times he couldn't keep count. Or maybe it was only two times, and he was just to drunk on her to notice. However long he did it for, they both relished in the feeling before they were both overstimulated and out of breath.
While any other time he would have loved to see his cum drip down her legs, since they were at work he decided to lift her panties up instead, relishing in the way she whimpered when they were on all the way. He made sure to pull them up tight, so she could feel his cum soak them as she stood upwards.
He scrambled to put his pants back on as she caught her breath, leaning against the wall of the elevator with her legs crossed and her eyes closed. He watched her intently as her hand drifted under her skirt and rubbed herself through her underwear, letting out whimpers and ragged breaths upon feeling what he'd done to her. The sweat that had just started to form on her body earlier due to the heat was now dripping down her neck and over her chest, and he was once again mesmerized by her.
"God, you're beautiful," he whispered aloud. Of course he'd meant to say it to himself in his head, but he wasn't thinking straight. She'd utterly wrecked him.
Y/N opened her eyes and smiled, taking him in as well. His hair was wild, all over the place and just as sexy as she'd found it before. The top buttons of his shirt were undone, no thanks to her, revealing a glistening chest and making her pussy throb once more, knowing what they'd just done and how... hot the whole situation was, for lack of a better term.
As if she needed a reminder, more of his cum seeped into the fabric of her underwear, warm and ever present, which made her bite her lip and sigh. "Yep... Doggy is definitely my favorite position."
"Especially standing up," he added, a small smile adorning his lips.
They laughed as the elevator lights came back on, and the weight of what they'd just done came crashing down as with it.
Y/N shuffled to the other side of the elevator to grab her back, almost gasping at the way his cum felt in her panties when she moved. She was afraid it would come out, but there was nothing she could do to stop it except for hope.
The two of them were quiet when the door opened and Garcia met them in the lobby.
"Oh, thank God! I feel so bad I didn't warn you in time before you got stuck in th— Your faces are all red, geez! Was it really that hot in there?"
Thankfully the heatwave gave them both an alibi.
"Y—Yeah," Spencer said with a nod, stepping out of the elevator. "That's twice now I've been stuck in an elevator, and I really wish it would stop happening."
The girls laughed as the three of them made their way to cooler air.
Spencer and Y/N fell in step behind their friend and shared a knowing look as the approached the file room.
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theladyismyshepard · 3 years
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I love your characterizations of the daughters and all of your imagines they are fantastic! i was wondering would it be okay to request an imagine where the reader says to the daughters like during an argument or something,“you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid!” and they all react to her in different ways? plz take ur time with the imagines and don’t feel pressured/rushed as ik writing should be something that is fun and not feel like a chore, thank you for all the content you have written so far :)
@frustratinglyinquisitive also maybe this could double as your #28 prompt? 🥺👉👈
Why Does Everyone Wanna Kiss Me So Bad?
The sunset was shining bright enough to sting and obscure eyesight, but that didn’t stop you from staring up into the pink and orange hues. Every time you blinked, the phantom flash of the sun still danced along your eyelids, leaving a glare across your vision. You weren’t even bothered by it, not when this numbness had clung itself to you, leaving you idle and just there. You flexed your fingers, and it rattled the chains locked around your wrists, bringing you back to where you were.
The boxed confinement you were trapped in felt more of a cage rather than the carriage bumping along the rocky trail that led you to your new prison — yes, Castle Dimitrescu sounded to be just another form of punishment, though you were uncertain as to why you were to be moved from Heisenberg’s watch to Lady Dimitrescu’s estate. You could hardly call it a step up from the twisted games he forced you to play within his factory.
You were sure you were on borrowed time and it was nearly time to collect, and you were certain that time had come when the four Lords surrounded you with Mother Miranda playing the head of the beast, leaving you cowering on the floor. The familiar iron hammer and the stench of billowing cigar smoke was on your right.
Standing next to him was quite possibly one of the ugliest... things you’d ever seen. A cloak hid a majority of his body, but you had the suspicion that the misshaped person next to Heisenberg wasn’t entirely human... you got that vibe from everyone in the room. Especially the weird doll that couldn’t seem to reign in its excitement as it bounced in the veiled woman’s lap seated next to Mother Miranda.
There was nothing human about the golden eyes that peered into yours from under the brim of a wide hat. They seemed calculating, curious, if not a tad bit confused as they surveyed your weak form. You looked away, unable to handle the weight of the woman’s gaze, and that was how you caught Mother Miranda’s bright eyes cutting into you from behind her bird-like mask.
“Oh, how I have been waiting to meet you, little one.” her voice demanded respect, but all you could do was gawk. “You are a stubborn thing, I’ve heard.”
Her gaze slowly crept over to Heisenberg as she said it, and you couldn’t help but feel a tremor of fright at his angered snarl, his arms crossed petulantly. It was true, you had endured many weeks at the hands of the leather-clad man, and while he did his worst, you refused to succumb to his torture, though for how much longer, you couldn’t say.
“I cannot fathom what keeps you here, but there is nothing special about the common human.” said Mother Miranda, and the mounting irritation was crystal clear. “You might have one looking like a dog chasing its own tail, but let us see how you fare in Castle Dimitrescu.”
You could immediately tell who dwelled there with the way the woman wearing white was smiling like the cat who ate the canary. She was completely predatory and was feeding off of Heisenberg’s disgrace and fury, and between the two, you weren’t sure who the best option was, not when her eyes turned to you and she looked like she knew exactly what she wanted to do with you.
“Do not worry, Mother Miranda,” the woman promised, already moving to stand, and the way she towered over you had your neck craned straight upward. “It’s been some time since my daughters had a plaything.”
That comment alone had the other occupants of the room guffawing and whistling. Everyone seemed to thoroughly enjoy the prospect of her daughters getting their hands on you, even Heisenberg had his eyebrows arched in surprise. Who the hell are these girls? Mother Miranda seemed to know and that was all that mattered.
“You are about to see what real monsters are.”
And that was how you found yourself roughly chained up inside the carriage that guided you to Castle Dimitrescu. You weren’t entirely sure why it was such a slap in the face to Heisenberg, but he seemed rather indignant as he loaded you up, spitting insults through the whole process.
You couldn’t say for sure how long you had been traveling, but it was enough to have all of your joints achey and your ass numb by the time it was all said and done. Hell, it was long enough to feel the temperature drop as you trekked back around the mountains that stood between the factory and the castle. Though that wasn’t to say that you were in any big rush to get there. In fact, your heart dropped when the carriage came to an abrupt halt.
Panic gripped at your heart, and it felt as though fingers squeezed tightly around it. It left you motionless where you sat, wide eyes glued to the door that you were shoved in through. You could hear Heisenberg muttering and rustling as he approached, but aside from that, you couldn’t hear the distinct clanking of his iron hammer. He had such little faith in your survival skills that he didn’t even bother with arming himself to release you. Not that he needed to... You’ve seen what he can become, and you’ve seen what he houses in his factory. He’d kill you dead in a few seconds flat if you tried anything.
But at this point, what did you have to lose? Mother Miranda made it very clear that you were to be eliminated at the hands of these daughters, so did it really matter if you died at the doorstep or in the dungeon? You might have accepted death, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t put up a last fight out of pure stubbornness. So that was how you had every intention of kicking forcefully at the door once it began creeping open to have him stumble back, possibly cracking him straight in the nose in the process, but that didn’t go as planned right off the bat.
Not when the door was nearly ripped right off the hinges in the haste to open, leaving you jarred, mouth hanging. The sunlight was now faded and replaced by the beams of the moon, but it was a bright night, leaving you capable of seeing that this was definitely not Heisenberg. And neither was she... or her. Uh oh.
“Mother! She’s here!” squealed the redheaded girl closest to you, clapping happily.
“Thank you for the gift, Mother,” said the brunette, her smirk not reaching her dead eyes.
“We will not disappoint you.” promised the blonde, her eyes observing your every move like a hawk.
“Have fun, daughters, but do remember that this one comes special from Mother Miranda, so do not forget to thank her.” their mother instructed, as if you weren’t there.
“Thank you, Mother Miranda,” all three said in unison before three different pairs of hands grabbed whichever part of you that they could.
Heisenberg clicked his tongue from where he leaned against the side of the carriage. He had an arm crossed while the other brought a cigar nestled between two fingers to his lips. You couldn’t read his eyes from behind his circular sunglasses, but you could read the entertainment in his toothy smile before he took a drag. When he blew it out into your direction, his satisfied grin spread again.
“Now, you have fun now, too, ya hear?” He mocked, chuckling as he turned on his heel, mounted the carriage, and prompted the horses to carry him off into the night.
“We’re gonna have lots of fun.” giggled the redhead, her smile the widest of the daughters as she tugged at your arm, dragging you along the pathway towards the castle.
“Not if I get to her first,” the brunette chimed in, her own grip on your other wrist tightening and pulling, almost like she was trying you get you away from the other.
“Who said either of you get the first turn?” the blonde interrupted, frown etched into her face as she tangled her fingers into the collar of your shirt.
“Enough,” drawled Lady Dimitrescu, voice barely more than a bored mumble, but it still had the daughters zipping their lips. “Bela, you are the oldest, and less likely to break her before your other sisters get a turn, so you may have the first turn.”
The blonde grinned brightly while the other two scowled but saying nothing in front of their mother. Your eyes couldn’t decide where to stay as you glanced between all four women as they finally led you through the entrance of the castle. You noticed that the temperature didn’t really increase from taking shelter, the walls giving off their own chill to substitute for the lack of outside wind.
You didn’t even have time to marvel at the interior before Bela was tugging at you with renewed eagerness. You caught the slight growl from the brunette’s direction, but one glare from the Lady and it ceased. What the hell was really going on here? You never had time to process anything before sister after sister said something that left you reeling.
“Aww, her heart’s racing!” announced the redhead, her eyes wide and unblinking as they stared at your chest. “Please let me-”
“Daniela, no,” snapped Lady Dimitrescu sternly, her frown lines on display. “You will be last, and that’s that.”
Daniela’s face twitched in her attempt to bite her tongue to prevent her argument from bursting forth. It didn’t stop her from turning and giving the brunette a glare however. You gasped when her body dissolved into a swarm of bugs before your very eyes. They dispersed and flew this way and that, and you honestly don’t know why it still shocked you when the brunette followed the same exit style. A nose pressed against the side of your neck and you jolted so hard that you nearly broke free of the hand that was now caressing your shoulder.
“Such a jittery, little thing,” whispered Bela so quietly that her following inhale was louder. “Though I hardly smell the sweet scent of terror... Is this one broken, mother?”
You couldn’t help it, you had to chuckle at the complete honesty in Bela’s question. Your lack of fright baffled this girl almost as much as she baffled you altogether, and suddenly you were staring each other down. Her eyes were narrowed suspiciously as she cut her gaze up and down your body. Even Lady Dimitrescu arched a finely sculpted brow at you, seeming more interested now than she did among the other Lords.
“Mother Miranda assures there is nothing special about this one.” said Lady Dimitrescu.
“Why do you not fear me?” demanded Bela, almost sounding offended, her grip on your shoulder tightening. “Your heart is pounding but you aren’t oozing that smell that I like!”
“It’s kinda hard to fear death when you don’t even care about living anymore.” You deadpanned without much feeling, your eyes finding the ground more interesting. “Heisenberg rid me of everything that made me who I used to be.”
“And just who were you before my dear uncle dug his claws into you?” pressed Bela, and you refrained yourself from showing any outward reaction to their connection. You swallowed as you looked her dead in the eye now.
“Someone who would have the common sense to know just how dangerous you are.” You answered, and her brow furrowed.
“Who are you now?” She questioned quietly, her eyes softening a bit under the chandelier light. All you could do was shrug, you had no concrete answer for her, yet you knew you had to supply something.
“Someone who thinks that being abducted by three beautiful women isn’t exactly the worst case scenario,” you chuckled mirthlessly, the bitter smile on your face cutting into your cheeks almost painfully.
Bela stared at you almost dumbfounded before she had to look at her mother, almost as if to double check that she indeed heard correctly before she burst into a fit of giggles. Lady Dimitrescu didn’t even meet her eye, she was too busy staring into your soul. Only when your eyes fell to your feet did you hear her heels clicking away up the winding staircase.
“Remember what she’s here for, dear,” she drawled, never turning back, and leaving you alone with Bela.
“If you’re gonna kill me, just get it over with.” You spat, attempting to sound brave rather than defeated.
Bela’s smile was almost animalistic with the way blood smeared across her lips and stained her teeth, and you couldn’t help but to feel like the prey when she took slow, deliberate steps around you.
“Oh, no, where is the fun in that?” Bela countered, reaching out to graze over whatever part she could touch as she continued to stalk around you in circles, taking you all in. “You are my pet now.”
“I thought I was a plaything.” You couldn’t help but throw back into her face, and you were surprised when Bela merely cocked her head instead of getting angered by your outburst.
“Mother Miranda might not find anything special about you, but call me fascinated.” said Bela, stopping in front of you, her fingertips caressing your throat. “You belong to me now.”
“Us,” corrected a sudden voice behind you, and the haze that was settling over you in Bela’s presence was lifted when you jerked forward.
You tried to whirl around on your heel out of reflex to back away, but Bela’s fingers dipped from your throat to grip at the collar of your shirt to keep you still and facing her. You flinched away from the sudden hand that tangled in the bottom of your hair, pulling your head back until it was resting against a shoulder. Brown hair cascaded down into your eyes.
“Mother Miranda gave her to all of us.” corrected the brunette, the edge in her voice making it like steel.
“Cassandra’s right,” sang Daniela in a sing song voice, and it had a shiver running down your spine, which prompted a round of wild giggling. “Did you like that, pet?”
“If we’re being technical,” Bela piped up with an eye roll, trying to pull you closer and failing when both Daniela and Cassandra tightened their own grips on you. “Mother Miranda gave her to us to tear apart, so she wasn’t meant for anyone.”
“Buuuuuuut?” You interrupted, hoping to add a touch of humor to your case.
Daniela giggled and Bela shook her head in mild amusement, but you found that Cassandra was the more difficult one to crack. She didn’t offer a single facial expression as her eyes surveyed every inch of your body, and you couldn’t tell if she was appreciating the view or if she was sizing up which part of you she wanted to rip off and take for herself.
These three women spoke so callously and so nonchalant right in front of you. These three women were what Mother Miranda referred to as “monsters” compared to the actual beasts you had seen lurking within Heisenberg’s factory. These three women were spattered in blood that you somehow knew wasn’t theirs, and they wouldn’t stop touching you. Hm.
“Aren’t you funny,” Cassandra said nearly monotonous, but her smirk was on full display, and you cursed the light, fluttering feel of your chest.
“I try,” you whispered, afraid that speaking any louder would be taken as a threat to these crazed women, but you did look her in the eye to gauge her reaction.
“Can we keep this one, Bela, please?” whined Daniela, pouting at the blonde.
“I don’t think mother would allow it though.” Bela worried, finally releasing her hold on your shirt, and that had Cassandra and Daniela pulling you closer (and almost apart).
“She is ours to do as we please, we’d kill her if she tried anything.” snapped Cassandra, looking like the whole situation was stupid to her.
“Obviously she will not try to escape!” insisted Daniela, nodding her head furiously towards who you were guessing was the older sister, before turning to you. “Right?”
Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela were all looking at you expectantly, and you couldn’t help but feel warm under the spotlight. You could practically see the thoughts flicking through Bela’s calculating eyes. Cassandra was cool and reserved as her eyes gave nothing away, but her wicked smirk showed she wanted something from you, whatever that might be. Daniela’s eyes were intense as they bored into you, and her smile was almost unhinged, and honestly who were you to break it?
“I could never say no to three pretty girls.” You flirted, wagging your eyebrow to each sister, and the response was immediate.
Bela’s mouth parted in a silent gasp before she latched onto the front of your shirt again and started giggling. Cassandra looked entirely predatory now as her eyes flashed and her smirk showed all of her teeth, her own chuckles slipping out. Daniela, who was curled around your arm the whole time, had stars in her eyes at your answer and she smiled widely, throwing her own cackling into the mix, and suddenly it was a symphony.
“I want her first,” pleaded Daniela, eyes never leaving you.
“Mother said it’s my turn with the pet!” said Bela, tugging at you again.
“Why should we get her after she’s been used?” Cassandra argued, her arm now wrapped around you from behind.
“I won’t break her!” snapped Bela, her pulling useless when it was a deadlock between three pairs of hands.
“I don’t care!” cried Daniela, one arm curled around yours and her other hand reaching up to grab your opposite shoulder, locking you in. “I want her!”
You swallowed past your suddenly dry throat. The three sisters were not only talking about a possibility of keeping you around, but it sounded as though they were fighting over you. Your cheeks were aflame as you averted your eyes.
“Look who’s bashful all of a sudden,” jested Cassandra, both her hands falling to your hips. “Where’s all that talk now?”
“I can smell you blushing.” Daniela interjected, sniffing aloud and moaning. “You smell so good... we need to make you blush often.”
“Are we sure we can hide this from mother?” Bela asked one last time, almost like she was seeking permission from her younger sisters now. Daniela and Cassandra shrugged.
“We’ll just have to find out, now won’t we?” You pressed, looking to solidify your place among them... you’d take the position of “pet” over the one of “food” any day.
“Brave little thing,” Cassandra cooed, her fingers rubbing circles on your hips. “I need you with me.”
“Dammit I said it’s my turn!” snarled Bela, finally poking and prying at her sisters fingers locked around you.
“Just because you’re the oldest-!”
“You’re damn right I’m the oldest, and I-”
“You look so stupid,” spat Cassandra petulantly, having enough with going nowhere in the argument, and you could see that this was about to get old quick if you didn’t ease some of the tension.
“You all wanna kiss me so bad it makes you all look stupid.” You sucked your teeth between your lips when it grew deadly silent.
Bela had a crease between her brow as she stared at you in shock, uncertain if she heard you right. Cassandra was a blank slate as she absorbed you taking her insult and turning it back around on her as well. Daniela was wide eyed as she gaped at you for a full five seconds before she snorted and her megawatt smile lit up her entire face.
“I won’t let them get rid of you.” Daniela promised, and you couldn’t recall the last time that she blinked.
“Okay, okay,” sighed Bela, glaring at her sister. “We’re all going to keep her.”
“I hope I don’t break you.” chuckled Cassandra, and coupled with her breath so close to your ear, it had warmth flaring in the pit of your stomach.
“Don’t get bashful on me, now,” you smirked back, relishing in the giggles that surrounded you.
“Come along, plaything,” quipped Bela, winking at you as she dragged you along, the sisters following along with her this time. “We’ve got to show you your new home.”
Wild giggling echoed throughout the castle, and it was becoming your new favorite tune.
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mid-weast · 3 years
Text
Will you keep it down? | Jeon Jungkook
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Summary: You and Jungkook attend the same university and have been neighbors for 3 months now. It drives you crazy that he plays loud music at 2AM, and it drives him crazy that you barely acknowledge his presence.
Pairing: Jungkook x Female!Reader; Black!Reader
Words: 2.6K
Genre: enemies to lovers, student!jungkook, student!reader, fluff, mention of smut, angst? (in the form of bickering back and forth).
Authors note: Hi hi! This is the first fic I’ve ever written so if it’s bad I’m sorry. Also it is unedited so if there's grammar / spelling mistakes I'm sorry again! Also this is catered toward the reader being Black but I hope it can be enjoyed by everyone. Thank you for reading! Feedback is appreciated ok love u bye!
“Y/N? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??!? Open this door RIGHT NOW!”
Even though you were studying in your room, his knocks were so loud you nearly jumped out of your skin. You had expected a reaction, but not a full-on explosion.
You and Jungkook have been apartment neighbors for about three months now, and a constant problem is that he blares his music hella loud late at night. Of course he’s a music major so he listens to music a lot, but at this point you don’t care. It doesn’t even seem like he’s working on composition homework anyway, just being an asshole with no regard for his neighbors peace. Now don’t get yourself wrong, you're not just some uptight bitch who complains about everything. Well, you do have several pet peeves but over the years of going to school in Korea you’ve picked and chosen your battles very wisely. In most cases you let things slide. You wouldn’t care at all about someone playing the music loudly, but it is 2 AM, and while you’re up studying you know a lot of your other neighbors are trying to sleep.
You tiptoe toward your front door and twist the knob slowly. You only open the door wide enough to be able to see his face. It’s not that you’re scared that you’re in danger or anything, and you rarely back down from people giving you a hard time. But you were tired, wearing a big ass t- shirt and short shorts (your regular sleep attire), and it was late at night. So if anything was going to pop off you felt pretty vulnerable. Even though you’re the same age, he towers over you and you find his size kinda intimidating.
As usual, you have to crane your neck to see his face, and your view of him is limited by the narrowness in which
you opened the door.
“Can I help you, lil boy?”
From what you can see of him, right away you can tell that he is pissed. Dawning his usual attire of a black sweatshirt with the hood up, black sweats, and stomp a hoe boots, he stood extremely close to your apartment door with his arms crossed. His usually wide, puppy dog eyes are now pressed in narrow slits. His normally pouty lips are formed in a hard line, and his jaw is so clenched you could carve an ice sculpture with his jawline.
"Who the hell do you think you are? You called the cops on me? Are you INSANE???" Jungkook shouts.
Obviously he's mad, and despite the amount of times you've gone back and forth he's never raised your voice at you. The old you would have screamed back at him, but over time you've tried to respond to anger with calmness. Also, you were a little scared because this mf is kind of big.
"I already told you if you keep blaring your music at 2AM, I was going to do something about it!" You respond in a hushed whisper, slightly concerned that your elderly neighbors will be even more disturbed by the noise. "I've told you this a million times, and you barely do anything about it. If anything, it's gotten worse like you're doing it on purpose. People are trying to sleep and I'm trying to study, why is this so hard for you to understand?"
He sucks his teeth. "You're such a little snitch. And I've already told YOU that YOU can't tell me what to do."
"I know I can't...but they can," you nod toward the exit, referring to the police officers that most likely just left out that way with a tiny smirk growing on your face.
If it was possible, he clenched his jaw even harder and you think that he's going to pop a blood vessel. He pushes his way into your apartment, which sends you stumbling back and you grab the door handle to regain your balance. This causes you to close the door shut.
"Hey! What the hell do you think you're-"
He steps right up to you and leans down into your face.
"Who the fuck do you think you are, seriously??? Why are you such an annoying little brat? Just because you're a nerd with no friends who gets no play doesn't mean you can take your bitterness out on me.”
You have to laugh in his face at this point because hello??? First of all, who is he talking to? Second of all, you have told him a BUNCH of times to turn his music down late at night. You didn't think that was too much to ask. As far as you were concerned, being aware of your noise level when you live in an apartment is the universal bare minimum for being a human being.
"ME? Who do you think YOU are? Actually let me tell you. You're an entitled little rich boy who thinks he runs the world. I don't give a fuck about how popular you are on campus, how many people fall at your feet to be around you, and how many hoes you have, you cant talk to ME like that. And how are you going to try and tell me about myself when it's too much of a task for you to be a decent neighbor? I've never done anything to blatantly bother you, so why can you just.." You started to panic because usually when you raise your voice out of anger, your voice cracks and tears threaten to pool out of your eyes, but you tried to get a grip and not back down..."why can you just be nice to me so we can live in peace? Is that too hard for you???"
He looked kind of taken aback by your question. Being nice to you? It never crossed his mind. Also, you kind of had a point. When the semester started and you both moved in on the same day, you would shoot him a small, friendly smile in passing but you never seemed interested in getting to know him. He always wondered why that was. It's not that he had a problem talking with girls, since all he had to do was breathe and girls would come flocking around him, but you would flat out ignore him. Even at all the major parties at the beginning of the year and on Thursday nights when students take over the clubs in the city, you'd barely even acknowledge him. He KNEW that you had seen him too, since you would make eye contact, but you acted like he was just another guy at the club.
And he'd be lying if he said you weren't fine. You had thick thighs, a beautiful face, nice curves, and always wore outfits that hugged you in the right places. He always wondered what it would feel like to wrap his arms around your body and press it against his own. He would constantly sneak peaks of you throughout the night at the club, but something stirred in him when he saw that you were chatting up other guys. Was he...jealous? Jealous that you were so eager to pay attention to these dudes who, in his opinion, were decent looking but they were nowhere near his level, and you never even gave him a second thought? One night he even saw you leaving with a man he knew through mutual friends, and he had to physically stop himself from breaking the glass he was holding, because that guy, while objectively handsome, was nothing compared to him. Jungkook wasn't blatantly cocky, but he let his talent, charm, and looks speak for themselves. He was THEE Jeon Jungkook, and nothing ever really bothered him....except you.
Was he....interested in you? Nah, that can't be it. You were some random chick who happened to be his neighbor, who also is one of the only girls he's met that doesn't give two fucks about even having small talk with him, and that infuriated him for some reason. So the first time you came knocking on his door in an adorable pink satin pajama set with a matching bonnet complaining about his loud music, he knew the game he had to play.
He's still standing over you, centimeters away from you face, but you notice that his eyes soften a little and so does his jaw. He unclenches the fists he was holding crossed against his chest
You continue, “I don't care what you do, and I'm DEFINITELY trying to run your messy ass life. Believe me," you scoff, "you don't have enough money to pay me to do that. But when your dickhole behavior fucks with MY life is when it's a problem. And it's BEEN a problem."
He rolls his eyes. "Whatever, little girl, maybe I should call you little mouse now, since now I know that you'll go squeaking to the cops now, don't fuck with me or my music again.”
Without moving your head you look him up and down with a confused expression. "Am I supposed to be scared of you? No seriously, you look like you cry during Disney movies while wearing footie pajamas, and now here you are throwing a fit because I forced you to stop bothering the entire wing with your music?"
Girl...what are you saying??? This man just barged into YOUR place, is in your face, and is strong enough to pick you up and throw you, and you’re insulting him? But you figured if he's going to be rude, you'll throw it right back because you're tired of his bullshit.
Whatever softness he was feeling for a fleeting moment immediately left, and annoyance once again washed over. He straightens up a bit and puts on that annoying confident smirk he wears when he thinks he's won arguments between you two.
"You should be nicer to me, all it will take is for me to tweet one thing about you, and you'll be the most hated person on campus."
At this point, any suspicions that you had about him annoying you on purpose were confirmed. You've concluded that this mf is a bully and you, small and shy but not one to take mess, will put him in his place to-motherfucking-night.
You take a step toward him, now crossing your arms tightly against your chest, but he doesn't even move a hair backwards.
"Clearly you need a rude awakening so here it is. I don't know what type of people you've dealt with all your life, always saying yes to you, letting you boss them around and taking whatever bullshit you dish out, but let me tell you I am not the one. Never have been and never will be. Unlike the other fools around here who cream their pants at the mention of your name, I don't care about who you are. You'll respect ME and MY peace as long as we're neighbors, you get me?"
Now y/n, you have never so boldly stood up to someone, where did that come from, babes? You've tried to not let this entitled little boy get to you this whole time, but with him standing in front of you in the middle of your apartment with that extremely annoying, yet handsome, smirk on his face, and after all the crap he's said tonight, he had you all the way fucked up.
After you said that, he just laughed and looked away. Now you’re standing there fuming and confused...was there a joke you missed? You were being dead serious!
"Something funny?" you ask, narrowing your eyes.
"Nothing, just thinking about how I want to face fuck that annoying little mouth of yours so you finally shut up.”
Your jaw almost dropped to the floor. You've never had a guy say something so blatantly rude and vulgar literally inches away from your face. But again, you weren't going to back down.
"Oh really?" Scoffing and tilting your head to the side a bit while narrowing your eyes even more, "I'd very much like to do the same. Maybe then you'll learn your place."
"Oh please, princess, you probably blanch when someone around you even mentions the word sex." He chuckles and leans down close toward your face again and cocks his head to the side, scrunching his nose and in a pouty voice said, "you're fooling no one, but keep trying, maybe you'll get there.”
You're even more annoyed than you were before, if that was even possible. But if he wanted to play this game, you might as well go there with him. It's true, you were a bit more prudent than more, but it pissed you off that he could tell. Regardless, you do know some things to say that could have him leaving with his tail between his legs.
You pouted your lips and in a babying tone said, “Aww sweetheart you have no idea. You think you're big and bad but like I said, you probably cry watching Disney movies. The same way you'd be crying, begging me to let you cum down my throat as I mercilessly toy with your cock for hours.”
Now it's his turn to go pale. Y/n, his stuck up neighbor who has barely even spared him five seconds of her time just threatened to edge him into submission? He has to pinch himself because he must be dreaming....
“Well I-“
“But I don't even think we’d make it that far, hun” you continue, “because in order to humble your egotistical, disrespectful ass, I'm gonna have to ride your face until you suffocate. And when the paramedics come and I have to explain how you died, I won't even hesitate to tell them that you were a punk ass loser who LITERALLY drowned in my pussy!”
You don’t know who this person speaking is, but it is not you. All of the pent up hostility you’ve held towards him just flooded out of you and you couldn’t stop the words from coming out. To be honest you shocked yourself, but you still stood there with your arms crossed and your face unfaltering, just waiting for him to say something smart back.
He stared at you silently, eyes wider than you’ve seen before and his mouth hung slightly open. He wasn’t expecting you to respond with so much fire, but now he wouldn’t be able to sleep until the image you painted came true. His brain said fuck it, and his lips crashed down onto yours. The kiss is sloppy but passionate, and you swore you heard him quietly whimper.
When he feels you starting to kiss back, he smirks into the kiss. Your lips are moving against each other in tandem, and all thoughts about how much you despise the prick fades away. As you uncrossed your arms and placed them on his chest, you could feel his heart beating wildly. Was he as nervous as you were this whole time? You wonder. You knew he was a player, so he was experienced. But the thought that you made him nervous gave you a tiny confidence boost. His hands slowly slide up the sides of your body to sneak behind your back, to pull you further into his chest. As much as your brain was telling you to resist him and push him away, you couldn't help but fall victim to how soft his lips felt against yours. Suddenly you feel airborne as he swiftly reaches down behind your thighs and picks you up. You instinctively gasp but he doesn’t miss a beat, simply biting your lower lip and locking your lips together again.
“Maybe we should test that scenario of yours, and if it comes true, that wouldn’t be the worst way for me to go” he says, doing that annoying but soul-crushingly handsome smirk he likes to wear as he carries you off to your bedroom.
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manesalex · 2 years
Text
a little bit of everything
Everyone sees different sides of Alex; or, all of our characters interacting with Alex. for @alexmanesappreciation
Warnings for some hints of smut. Also, this is in no way Maria-friendly.
***
Liz looks up from her microscope at the sound of someone walking into the lab. To her surprise, it’s Alex, looking unsure. “If you’re looking for Michael,” she offers. “He won’t be here for another hour or so.” She’s seen more of Alex since he and Michael got together than in the past few years Alex has been in Roswell, but only because Michael is always inviting him to join him in the lab. She would complain about the way it impacts their work, but, well, she’s never seen Michael this happy. Nor has she seen him as comfortable in himself, rarely bothering with the macho cowboy posturing anymore.
“I was actually looking for you,” Alex says.
“I don’t know how much help I can be. I’m pretty sure Mikey understands all of this just as well as I do,” she replies, noting the way Alex smiles at her nickname for Michael.
“Actually, I had a personal question,” Alex says, looking uncomfortable.
“Shoot,” Liz replies, setting aside her notebook and turning her full attention toward him.
“It’s just… You have a lot more experience with serious relationships than I do and you know Michael really well and-- I don’t want to fuck things up with him.” In the more than twenty years she’s known him, Alex has never been this vulnerable with her, usually defaulting to the humor that both of them handle better than feelings.
“I don’t think you could,” Liz replies. She’d thought Michael and Maria had made a good match, but she can’t say that she hasn’t noticed that Michael responds to Alex the way Max responds to her.
“I have. I spent more than a decade doing exactly that.”
Liz sighs. She hasn’t been in love with Max nearly that long, but she knows she’s done her fair share of messing their relationship up. “What’s your question?”
“Is it too soon to ask him to move in with me?” Alex asks. And then, before she can answer, “We’ve only been together a couple of months and I know that’s so fast, but I’ve also been in love with him since I was seventeen and I know he’s it for me, but--”
“You don’t want to push him away by moving too fast?” she asks.
“Exactly.”
“For me and Max? Now would be too soon, yeah. I’m not ready to share a space with him. We just got back together and I wasn’t there when we were together for an entire year.”
“So I should wait.”
“Not necessarily,” Liz replies. “I’m pretty sure Michael’s trying to match your pace for the same reasons you’re worried about going too fast for him. You should ask him. But make sure he knows he can say no if he wants.”
“Thanks.”
“Do me a favor though?” Liz asks with an evil grin. “Before you propose to him, let me know? I have a pool to win.”
Alex just laughs at that. “You got it.”
***
“You’ve made Michael really happy, you know,” Max starts when he walks into Alex’s office at Project Shepard.
“If you’re about to give me a shovel talk,” Alex replies, tone flat. “You don’t need to bother. I’m not going to hurt Michael. Not if I can help it.”
“No! Of course not, man. I just-- I wanted to know how you do it so I can make Liz that happy.”
“I’m pretty sure I’m the last person you want to ask for advice on what does it for Liz,” Alex tilts his head and grins, looking like he’s about two seconds away from laughing.
Max can feel his entire face heating up at that, “No, I mean, I don’t-- It’s not--”
“It’s okay, Evans,” Alex’s tone is far kinder now. “You’re the romantic. You’re telling me your poetry isn’t making Liz swoon?”
Max ducks his head in response, “I’m… I haven’t shown her any of it?”
Alex looks surprised at that, “You write romantic poetry and you’re not sharing it with Liz? I mean, I get that being vulnerable is hard and I know Liz isn’t exactly a romantic, but I’m sure she’ll understand the sentiment behind it. And she’ll be happy you’re being vulnerable with her.
“But,” he pauses, “Beyond that, have you tried asking her what she wants? What would make her happier?”
Max can feel his face heating up again, this time in shame. “No?”
“Come on, Evans,” Alex sighs. “Just ask her. I’m probably not one to talk because I still struggle with that with Michael, but… Talk to her. Liz can answer your questions better than I can. And, if you want your relationship to last, you’re gonna need communication.”
“So I just ask her?” Max asks.
“Yes,” Alex replies, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. “Just ask her. Talk to Liz about what she wants and what you want. I know you adore her, but, if you don’t know what she wants, how the hell are you supposed to give it to her?”
“Is that what you do with Michael?” Max asks.
Alex sighs, “Michael and I have our own issues, but, yeah. We talk about things. We’re working on it, anyway.”
“Huh,” is the only reply that Max can come up with. “Thanks for the advice.”
***
"Can I give you some advice?"
Isobel raises an eyebrow at Alex, but, after a moment, she nods. She doesn’t know him, not really. He’s only ever been the guy her brother is in love with, at least to her, even when he’s helped her and Max as well.
"I don't know if you feel forever about Anatsa, and, if you do, ignore what I'm gonna say, but--" he pauses, looks away, and takes a breath, before saying, "I know what it's like when trauma makes the thought of being with someone you love terrifying. And you should take however long you want or need to deal with that." He turns to look at her, "I just… I don't want you to make the same mistake I did. If there's someone you feel that way about, let them know what's going on."
“You seem pretty happy now,” she replies, trying her hardest to dismiss the nagging worry that this comment brought her back to.
“I am,” Alex grins at her and, wow, yeah, she can see why her brother fell head-over-heels in love with him. And then his expression turns more serious, “But I almost wasn’t. Michael knew how I felt and still-- I didn’t explain what was going on in my head. And I hurt him so much that he almost--” He cuts himself off, clearly upset. “If I’m right, just tell him how you feel. He’ll understand why you’re not ready yet,”
Isobel knows exactly who Alex is referring to and that alone tells her that maybe he’s right after all.
***
Michael used to hate mornings. They were consistently his least favorite time of the day. If he could have his way, he’d sleep until at least noon.
But, since he’s been with Alex, well, he’s found a new appreciation for mornings.
On weekdays, Alex sets his alarm absurdly early and gets out of bed instantly, but Michael gets to bury his face in Alex’s pillow until it’s time for him to get up and go to work. And, when he does get up, there’s usually a thermos of coffee waiting for him, along with a little note from Alex.
Michael is pretty sure he’ll never really enjoy weekday mornings, but Alex makes them considerably better.
Weekend mornings are another matter though. Michael is well aware Alex can get up at ungodly hours of the morning without any effort, but, on the weekend, Alex whines about the sunlight and presses his face against Michael’s chest as if he’s trying to hide from it. He’ll do that until Michael wraps his arms around him and uses his powers to close the blinds. Which usually earns him a sleepy “Thank you,” followed by a kiss to whichever patch of his skin Alex’s mouth is closest to.
Affection seems to come easier for Alex first thing in the morning, when he’s not yet thinking of all the things that need to be done. Once he’s awake, his hands don’t seem to stop wandering. Neither does his mouth, for that matter. And Michael is more than happy to reciprocate.
Eventually, when they’re both sated, Michael forces himself to get up first, laughing when Alex inevitably grumbles and reaches for him, trying to pull him back to bed. Most of the time, Michael lets him.
When he does get out of bed though, he usually turns on the coffee pot and makes breakfast, bringing it to Alex in bed. And then he gets treated to a sleep-warm and sex-haired Alex Manes who usually insists on thanking him for breakfast and then, well, Michael and Alex usually don’t get out of bed until sometime in the early afternoon.
So, yeah, Michael is really starting to love mornings. Or weekend mornings, anyway.
This morning, however, is different. He and Alex are going to meet Alex’s mom for lunch.
“Do I look okay?” Michael asks, trying to tame his hair in the full length mirror.
He can hear the smile in Alex’s voice when he says, “You look very handsome. But you didn’t need to ask Isobel to help you pick an outfit, you know. I think you look even better in your own clothes.”
Michael doesn’t ask how Alex knew Isobel had picked his clothes out. He simply explains, “Isobel knows how to make a good impression with parents.”
“My mom is going to love you, you know,” Alex says, wrapping his arms around Michael from behind and resting a chin on his shoulder. “No matter what you’re wearing.”
Michael can’t resist leaning back into Alex’s embrace, but he still asks, “How do you know?” as he adjusts his collar in the mirror.
“Because I love you. And because you make me happier than I even knew was possible,” Alex’s eyes meet Michael’s in the mirror and Michael smiles in spite of himself.
“What if she doesn’t?” Michael asks him. He can’t help but wonder if Alex’s mother will see all the things about him that aren’t good enough for Alex, if she’ll make Alex see them too.
“If she doesn’t, she’ll be missing out,” Alex says simply, pressing a kiss to Michael’s jaw. “And I’ll love you just as much as I do now.”
“Promise?” Michael asks with a nervous smile.
“Promise.”
***
Maria’s always been able to count on Alex to be there for her, to be the support she needs when her mom is lost in her own head and the rest of the world seems so unfair. So, when Alex left for war, she was angry with him, even if he did still call and write regularly. She had to do everything on her own and, well, maybe she resented him a bit for that.
When he came back home, things returned to the way they’ve always been, Alex helping with her mom and getting Liz to show up for her.
And then Maria started to see a new side to Michael, a guy who took care of her the way she’s always wanted someone to. And, if she found out that Alex has been in love with him for the past decade at the same time, well, Alex has always been able to handle things so well on his own. Maria needs someone to show up for her.
Alex understood, of course. Why else would he forgive her so easily? If he was so in love with Michael, why would he encourage her to give Michael another chance?
Things with Michael hadn’t ended up working out anyway, so it didn’t matter, in the end. Michael needed too much from her and, really, that wasn’t what she wanted. Now Alex has what he wants and Maria has a man who will support her in every way she needs.
So she’s surprised when Alex comes into The Wild Pony one day, his usual friendly smile gone, his face cold and almost blank, an expression she’s never seen on him before. It’s the first time she’s ever seen him look like a soldier. At first, she thinks something is wrong with him. That is, she thinks that until he speaks, “I need you to be kinder to Michael. I know that you threw yourself off of the Crashdown roof and he saved you in broad daylight. He could have been caught, but he put your safety before his own.”
He pauses before adding, “I don’t know how things ended between you two, but I know Michael. He is the most loving person I’ve ever met. And he deserves to be treated better than you treat him. Is that understood?”
Maria is so shocked that it takes a minute for her to manage a, “Yes?”
And then Alex gives her a tight grin and a, “Thank you,” before walking out of the bar again.
***
“Haven’t you seen this before?” Kyle asks as the opening credits start to play. He grabs a handful of popcorn from the bowl on Alex’s coffee table.
“Of course he has,” Michael replies from Alex’s other side, sounding offended. “You’re the only one here who hasn’t seen a single Star Wars movie.”
“He’s right. This is vital pop culture knowledge we’re helping you with,” Alex says, barely glancing at Kyle before turning to grin at Michael, grabbing his arm and pulling it over his shoulder.
Michael is looking at Alex like he hung the moon and,well, Kyle knows how lucky he is that Alex trusts him with this, trusts him to witness his happiness and his love for Michael.
After all, Kyle is well aware he made a lot of mistakes when he was younger. Mistakes he's still trying to make amends for. But the biggest mistake of all was how he treated Alex.
Outside of his parents, Alex was the only one who didn't seem to care about what Kyle could do for them, the status he could provide, the popularity that he brought with him.
And he turned on him. He doesn't know that he'll forget the look on Alex's face the first time he directed a homophobic slur at him. The momentary heartbreak, quickly covered by the faux toughness Kyle knows he learned from his brothers. And all for the approval of some jocks whose names Kyle can barely remember anymore.
Now, well, now Kyle is trying to make up for it, though he knows he'll never really deserve Alex's forgiveness. He’s grateful for it anyway, and he strives to keep on deserving it.
He knows that Alex has every reason to refuse to have anything to do with him, outside of their fathers’ legacies and their shared involvement in protecting the aliens.
But, instead, Alex has started to come to him for advice, has started to offer his support to Kyle too. Whether or not Alex realizes it, he’s the best friend Kyle has and Kyle knows how lucky he is.
“So, that’s Captain Kirk, right?” Kyle asks, well aware that the man who just appeared onscreen is Luke Skywalker.
Michael throws a handful of popcorn at him, but it’s worth it for the offended look on Alex’s face and the way Alex quickly starts telling him all about Luke Skywalker.
***
If Rosa is being honest with herself, she’s avoided Alex Manes since Max brought her back.
It’s not that they weren’t friends. It’s just that she knew Alex as the shy, sweet boy she taught how to use black eyeliner and who started borrowing her nail polish before he got his own. She remembers him telling her that he’s gay and that fear in his eyes that she’d react just like his father would, just like Kyle had. And she remembers the way he cried when she hugged him.
So she’s not sure she wants to get to know whoever he’s become.
Of course, she could only hide from him so long.
“I know you’ve been avoiding me,” Alex starts, walking up to the counter of the Crashdown. It’s past closing time, but her dad gave Alex a key back when he was a kid who didn’t have anywhere safe to go. Apparently, he still has it.
Rosa just shrugs, focusing on marrying the ketchups.
“I know I’ve changed and I get why you’re--” he pauses and she looks up at him for just a moment to find that his eyes are shining with tears. But he pushes them down and holds out the guitar that’s in his hand. “Your dad gave this to me after you--” he swallows. “After you died. And I know you’ve been using art to try to help cope with everything, but Michael told me about your new abilities and I thought-- I thought maybe it could help with both.”
“Don’t you need it?” Rosa asks.
He smiles at her, tears still visible in his eyes, “I couldn’t ever seem to make myself play it anyway.”
That’s when Rosa reaches out and takes it, her fingers brushing his, “Thank you.”
“No problem.”
She takes a breath before saying, “I’m rusty as hell. You think maybe you could help me pick it back up?”
Alex’s responding grin is brilliant, even if she can still see the tears in his eyes, “I’d like that. Text me when you’re free?”
“Got it,” she grins back at him, watching as he heads back out to the street, locking the door behind him.
She thinks maybe the Alex she knew never really disappeared at all.
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