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#SHE THOUGHT HE WAS GONE AND SHE GOT HIM BACK
gutsby · 2 days
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Ruined!
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Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader
Summary: Joel is an old man who struggles to cum sometimes. You’ve got time to kill and a tight hole to fill.
Warnings: 18+. Peepaw brainrot + a dash of anorgasmia. Unprotected p-in-v, cockwarming, age gap, daddy kink.
Note: Finals are whooping my ass left & right. This is a quickie.
Word count: 1.2k | Part of the Waiting Game ‘verse
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Surely he was hurting you now.
Joel Miller had a kink for many, many fun activities, but splitting a sweet young thing like you over his cock to the point you were almost in tears was just not one of them.
At the same time your poor, surely-bruised walls pulsed around his hardened length, he felt a pang of guilt. His balls were pressed against your ass like two lead weights, soaked with the remains of your third release, and his mind was at war with itself—keep fucking you like this? Pull out and offer his sincerest apologies for not being able to cum? A boy your age would’ve never had you waiting around like that, aching around his cock, much less begging for something as simple as a cumshot.
He decided to go straight to the source. Leaning over your prone body on the bed before him, he was careful not to rut his hips or jostle his dick around too much.
Joel pressed a hot, stubbled kiss to your cheek, then:
“‘S’it too much, baby? She need a break, maybe?”
Joel thumbed at that space where your body ended and his began and nearly lost his mind to the pearly-white slick that had accumulated with time. Two hours time, he had to remind himself while you moaned and writhed and bucked your ass back. Your cunt was choking him.
Crying, too.
Your eyes flew open the moment his words reached you.
“You kiddin’ me, Miller?! I could do this shit all day.”
Sometimes Joel forgot you were only in your twenties. Really, the thought only occasionally crossed his mind in moments like these—or when your father, his best friend, happened to bring you up—but when it did, it hit him hard. You were young. Lively. Surely far too spry and full of life to be messing around with a man as old as him.
Joel’s guilt ran almost commensurate with his pleasure when he felt you anchor your feet on the bed and start to fuck yourself back and forth over his still-throbbing dick.
Almost.
He planted a hand beside your head and grinned. He let you fuck him. Felt you pull off, crawl up the bed a little, then beckon him back to your body, where your ass was now pointing up and your back was arched in invitation.
Almost.
“You know I can’t sleep without your cum inside me.”
And you made a point to spread your knees and look behind you with a smile as sweet as Milo’s tea, fingers drumming a beat against the bedspread in anticipation.
“You do wanna fill me up, don’t you, daddy?” you teased.
Yeah, no. The guilt was gone. Joel could worry about being a depraved old man when he was done cumming.
Then he was back inside you, driving his hips until every last inch of him was wrapped snug within your wet and velvety embrace, and he sighed. A real protracted one, like the kind he was liable to exhale after climbing two flights of stairs, or else just hoisting himself off the sofa. Or lifting you in his arms and fucking you hard against the hood of his Bronco. Any time. Any place. You were kind enough to oblige him with the best cardio of his life, so the least Joel could do now was make you cum again.
He snatched your hands up in one of his own and placed your wrists at the base of your spine. With his other, free set of fingers he took to rubbing your clit gently.
“SON OF A—”
“—good girl.”
You let out a bloodcurdling scream into your pillow and secretly hoped this man’s dick would never deflate again. Not with the way he was sawing his thing back and forth and dragging you to the edge, circling your clit like you were the single most precious thing in the world to him.
“Oh, sweet pea, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
Like he could feel the tears staining the cushion himself.
“Mmrooonme,” you cried into it, voice garbled by cotton.
“What’s’at, honey? Can’t hear ya.”
Joel then bent at the waist, pretending to be leaning in to hear you better, when really he knew he’d be digging in your guts with that big, bulbous head of his and making you squeal again. Hands still held captive behind you, you inched your chin back on the pillow so your moans could be heard even louder while Joel sped up.
“You— ruined me,” you repeated. Now clear as ever.
Joel tried to hide his smile and glanced down between your body and his. Then, while his ring finger joined the other two to make their tight, light circles, he returned,
“Ruined? Pussy feels just fine t’me.”
You’d kill him if he wasn’t so good at this. You turned your head more to meet his eyes from the corner of yours.
“No. Ruined me. For anyone else.”
Probably forever.
“Good.”
You knew he liked it that way.
You saw it in his eyes. Felt it in his touch. The hefty, broad, and greying Joel Miller had been loafing around on this earth long enough to know how to claim what was his. When his hips knocked yours to lay you flat on the bed, you already knew what was coming next.
First, his arms came to rest on either side of your body.
“Shit,” you whimpered.
Next, his lips went trailing down to your ear.
“Just a little more, sugar—that’s it,” he murmured while his hips sank in, and you felt that big, delicious stretch.
Then he released your hands so they were free to squeeze the sheets, and when they did, his moved over them—lacing his fingers through your own—and his lips pressed a kiss to your jaw. He held you in a tender grasp. His breath was hot on your neck, and the whole of his body was blanketing yours. Joel knew you liked it like that, which is why he made sure not to leave an inch of space in between. He was grunting, rutting, holding you close while his cock drilled a maddening pace inside you.
“You ruined me too, y’know,” he mumbled into your skin.
His nose was flush with the side of your cheek, nudging inward. Begging you to turn your head just a little more so he could kiss you. Weak as you were, you obliged.
And you moaned against that grey, stubbled chin of his when the thrusts above you had your cunt grinding the bed, rubbing that soft and helpless nub on the sheets.
“C’mon— let daddy have it,” he growled, “Let daddy have it and make it his, huh? That okay by you, baby?”
It was.
More than okay, as confirmed by the orgasm that tore through your body moments later while your teeth sank into the flesh of Joel’s lower lip and your cunt clenched and soaked over him whole. Joel wedged his tongue in your mouth and fucked you through it. His broad and callused hands were like iron around your own, holding you tight and keeping you still amidst a maelstrom of pleasure that combed over your every last nerve.
He licked into your mouth. Licked over it. Took the sick and distinct pleasure of knowing no one but him got to see you like this, with your jaw hanging slack and your eyes rolling back and your whines repeating quietly, ‘Daddydaddypleasedaddyfuckohfuckdontstop.’
Maybe ruined wasn’t such a bad thing to be at all.
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imfinereallyy · 2 days
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I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) pt. 2
pt. 1
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
June 1996, Chicago
Steve doesn’t exactly know when Eddie Munson became one of his best friends, let alone when he fell in love with him.
He supposes both things occurred between the end of the world, and Eddie’s back walking out the door for the last time, unbeknownst to anyone. Though, that is five years of time, who’s to say when it really happened.
Dustin will argue the friend part. He likes to think it was he who brought them together (it certainly wasn’t; in fact, it put a real bump in the road for them). Dustin also thinks, which Steve is more inclined to think is true, that the two of them had become friends during Eddie’s slow recovery and Steve’s guilt complex, which made him feel responsible for him.
Which—ouch, Dustin—but years of therapy would prove him right.
Little shit.
Dustin doesn't know about the love part, though, and Steve doesn’t think much of the party knows except for one or two of the perceptive ones.
Looking at you, Lucas.
Robin likes to argue that Steve doesn’t know when he fell in love with Eddie because Eddie was different from everyone else.
Steve puts everything into love, moves fast, falls hard, and ultimately gets crushed by his own passion. Steve doesn’t know how to take things slow or wait around for the right person.
Until he did, with Eddie.
Steve managed to have a slow decent into the madness of loving a man like Eddie Munson. And he never did anything about it, although he didn't mind. Steve was okay with just being friends and loving from afar.
Until they weren't even that, and Eddie was gone.
Steve can't think about that now, instead he should probably worry about the man himself breaking into his apartment at 3 a.m.
"Get. Out." Robin hisses, breaking Steve from his thoughts.
Suddenly, Eddie stands. His hands thrust forward in a placating nature, and nervous energy radiates off of him. "Robin, please—"
"No, Munson. You don't get to disappear from our lives for five years, and then break into our apartment!" Robin whisper shouts, the metal bat waving around in her grip.
Steve still hasn't said anything, still unsure of any of it is really happening. But he can't help but warm at Robin's fierceness.
She will go down swinging for Steve, even against someone she cares about.
Fuck, he loved her.
"Give me one good reason not to bash your skull in with this thing, Munson. I dare you!" Robin took the metal bat and pushed it into Eddie's chest.
Steve gets a good look at him as he stumbles backward. He doesn't look much different—well that's a lie. He does look different; more tattoos, more piercings and Steve is pretty surprised to catch him wearing anything other than a band tee. It is just so all quintessentially Eddie. The jewelry is all silver, any tattoo he got after 1986 appears to be in black and red ink only. Even his tee is still black despite the lack of a band on the front.
"Birdie, I don't think you should have Steve's bat in your hands, you're a bit dangerous." Eddie tries to grab the bat from her hands but Robin yanks it back.
"Oh, fuck you, Munson! You don't get to call me Birdie, and this is my bat. Steve's is wooden and full of nails and underneath his bed. You should know that, or has the last five years really rotted your brain?" Robin is now waving the bat around with gusto, nearly missing Steve's head at one point.
Trying to shake himself from his frozen state, Steve decides it is probably in everyone's best interest if he steps in.
"Robs." Steve speaks gently, hand on the bat as he slowly lowers it down. Her shoulders drop, the fight draining out of her in seconds. "It's okay."
It's not okay. Steve doesn't understand what's happening right now. But Steve is okay as long as he has Robin, and Robin has him. Steve hopes she understands that's what he meant.
Robin nods her head, and shuffles closer to him.
Steve takes a shaky breath, "What are you doing here, Munson?"
Eddie cringes at the use of his last name but doesn't comment. "Listen, I know it's weird me just stopping by suddenly—"
Robin snorts, "I wouldn't exactly call breaking in 'stopping by'."
Eddie shakes his head, ignoring her. Stray curls start to fall loose from their bun. "I just want to talk, for you guys to hear me out."
Steve rubs a hand down his face, he is getting too old for this stuff. Being blindsided, being surprised—being thrown sideways and upside down. Sure, twenty-nine isn't exactly old, but Steve has lived practically six different lifetimes by now. There is so much damage to him—physically and emotionally. He is supposed to be past nonsense like this.
Robin takes his silence as permission to snip at Eddie, "No. Go away, Eddie. You don't get to do that. Get out."
Eddie moves a step forward, he is now illuminated completely by the side table's light. He looks tired—good but tired. It's not the kind of tired you see of someone in distress, not the ache that comes along in the tunnel that has no light in the end. No, Eddie looks tired in the way that comes with healing. Like working hard exhaustion. As if coming home from a long but good day at work, and the night grows weary.
Eddie opens his mouth to argue, but Steve cuts him off. "It's fine, Robbie. It's late; let him crash on the couch."
Eddie's shoulders sag in relief, "Thanks, Stevie, we can talk—"
"No." Steve chokes out, moving his hand towards his throat so he can remember to breathe. "You don't get to call me that. And we're not talking about anything. You'll sleep here, but that's it. I might not want you here, but it doesn't mean I'm going to let you wander the streets at night."
"Steve, please—" Eddie reaches out his hands to touch Steve. It is most likely going to be a gentle touch, but Steve can't help the way he violently flinches.
Eddie looks taken aback, eyes wide and full of sadness. He pulls his hands back.
"No, Eddie." Steve grabs Robin's hand and starts to pull her to bed. She doesn't protest and instead leans into his touch. Steve turns over his shoulder to look at Eddie again. "You'll stay the night. It's not an option. But my morning? I want you gone. I don't want you to be the first thing I see after sunrise."
Steve turns quickly back around, ignoring the pained grunt from behind him.
Bypassing Robin's bedroom, Steve pulls them both into his. Robin doesn't question it and instead makes herself comfortable in his forest green blankets.
Steve quickly follows after, snuggling into the bed beside her. People have thought them weird over the years—always in each other's spaces and knowing every little thing about each other. Partners, friends, family—all of them had something to say about it, never even bothering to understand.
Well, except Eddie. Eddie appreciated it, accepted it. Adored it at times.
"Are you really okay with this, Dingus?" Robin whispers softly between them.
"No." Steve never lies to Robin; she'll know. "Not at all, but I'm not going to let him wander the streets, no matter what I loved him at some point. I don't let the people I loved, get hurt."
Robin squints in pity, "Loved?"
"Not now, Bobbie," Steve whispers.
Robin nods, "Besides, I'm pretty sure 'Ed Sloane' can afford a fucking hotel room."
Steve lets out a loud snort, it echoes throughout the room. "God, don't remind me. What a stupid fucking name."
The two of them dissolve into giggles, bumping their heads together. Under the covers, they clasp their hands together tight. "I just don't want you to derail your life, for someone who walked so easily out of it. I know you have that important lunch with Drew tomorrow."
Steve takes a breathe through his nose, "Yea, I do. But it'll be fine. He'll be gone before I'm even up. You know Eds, he's a runner. Wouldn't stop trying to prove it, in fact."
Robin's face is scrunched in pain, and her eyes pool with pity. It's as if she knows something Steve doesn't or sees something he chooses to ignore. She doesn't comment on it, though. Instead, she raises an eyebrow, "Eds?"
It isn't snippy or accusing. Her voice is soft against his cheek. Steve doesn't have the mental capacity to argue though. "G'night, Birdie."
"Goodnight, Stevie." She whispers.
Steve closes his eyes, knowing it will all feel like a dream tomorrow.
Steve is familiar with having dreams with Eddie in them.
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
more to come i promise, especially after your (loving demands). especially my mutuals who yelled at me in the tags and my dm's (it made my day).Part 3 is currently being typed up. Also might fuck around and make this a full-blown ao3 one shot; who knows.
tag list!:
@stevesbipanic @withacapitalp @emryyyyy09 @brainfugk @blueberrylemontea-fanfic
@slv-333 @thetinymm @connected-dots-st-reblogger @helpimstuckposting @dreamercec
@goodolefashionedloverboi @stripey82 @little2nerdy @anne-bennett-cosplayer @resident-gay-bitch
@ghostquer @sourw0lfs @devondespresso
(please let me know if you don't want a tag, I had to guess by the comments, and sorry if you’re getting a random tag after posting, I had to fix the tag list cause tumblr is weird)
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Percy this. Percy that. It was always about Percy Jackson. All the fucking time. 
It was always about the Hero of Olympus, the one who defeated Kronos and led the battle of Manhattan, the one who was offered immortality by the king of the gods himself, the one who restored glory to Rome by returning the golden eagle, the one who became praetor of the Roman camp in 2 weeks with limited training. 
His Roman camp. Jason Grace's Roman camp.
Percy Jackson had pulled off everything in 2 weeks that Jason Grace wasn't able to accomplish despite dedicating his whole life for duty. 11 years of blood, sweat and tears, simply gone down the drain.
Jason had failed his camp. He had failed his home. Turns out, he wasn't as great as the people of Rome had once preached about him. It was obvious considering the less than warm welcome he had gotten from his so-called “home”. 
He received no hugs, no cheers, no “we missed you jason!”, no “I was so worried about you!” or even a single pat on the arm by his “friend” Dakota. Dakota and Gwendolyn hadn't even spared a glance at him.
Nothing. Instead, this new Jackson boy was held up to worship like a god amongst the people who once considered Jason a “hero”.
Jason laughed bitterly. Was it selfish of him to be disappointed with Reyna? With a pang, he got to know that Reyna hadn't sent a single search party out to look for her “best friend”. Not like Annabeth did for Percy, not like Thalia did for Percy.
With a pang, he got to know that the whole camp basically deemed him as ‘dead’ and Reyna hadn't even set up a memorial of remembrance for him. The camp had simply moved on with their new hero. Without a single shred of thought for Jason Grace. 
The forgotten Hero. The lost hero. Jason Grace.
These thoughts of doubt gnawed on Jason's mind, slowly eating him up ever since he'd first seen Percy Jackson in those damned praetor togas that once belonged to him. 
He didn't dislike the boy, of course not, it wasn't Percy's fault that Hera wiped their memories or switched camps.
 But it was hard for Jason to not resent him, or feel even the tiniest amount of envy, knowing that Reyna willingly replaced him with Jackson. Very quickly too, at that. He overheard Octavian blabbing to his lackeys about how Reyna “was head over heels for Percy almost immediately” 
“I guess that's it. Maybe I am someone who is easy to replace.” Jason thought, his eyes pricking as he looked over from the flying ship, at the place he once used to call home. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jason watched remorsefully as Thalia, Grover, Percy and Annabeth were all gathered at the table in camp half blood, cracking jokes about dam french fries or whatever that meant.
Thalia caught Jason's eyes, staring at all of them from a distance. She smiled softly, and gave him a tiny wave. He weaved his lips into something that was meant to look like a wry smile, but it came out as a slight grimace, as he waved back.
Thalia was so close to Jason, yet so far away.
He knew she loved him, but it felt different. And an annoying, nagging part of Jason had known that Thalia would never be as close to him as she was to Annabeth or Percy. 
Ironic isn't it? Jason and Thalia were always connected since they came from the same womb, yet she was closer to Annabeth, a girl she'd found after she had run away from the same woman that had given Jason to the wolves. The same woman who had turned his life upside down by abandoning him. 
Thalia had found Annabeth right after she thought she had lost Jason. In a strangely ironic way, Jason felt like he'd been replaced all over again.
Thalia had replaced Jason as a younger sibling with Annabeth without even realizing it, all of this took place mere months after a baby Jason was considered to be dead. This situation had strangely reminded him of Camp Jupiter, how he was replaced by Percy right after Jason was considered “dead” by Camp Jupiter.
This made Jason reach the possibility that if he were indeed “dead”, he wouldn't be missed. People wouldn't bat an eyelash. Since there was always someone better than him. Someone like Percy Jackson, who could easily fill the void Jason would leave behind.
His eyes watered, as he looked at how much fun his sister had with his friends. Knowing full well, that he'd never be able to do the same.
Jason felt ashamed that he had to ask Percy about Thalia’s likes and dislikes, he was thalia’s brother. He was supposed to know.
Jason watched as Thalia quickly hugged the trio, as she left their table to leave with the hunters, not even realizing that there was one person whom she forgot to hug.
Don't take it personally. Don't take it personally. She just forgot. She doesn't hate you. She just forgot. She doesn't prefer Percy over you. She's in a hurry. That's why she forgot. Jason repeated that like a mantra, the only person he was trying to convince was himself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“And he rejected immortality!- oh you should've seen Zeus' face!” Annabeth exclaimed to Hazel excitedly, as Percy was blushing at the compliment fountain being poured at him by Hazel and Annabeth.
Jason had always been fascinated by that story, the almighty Percy Jackson getting offered to become a god, by Zeus.
His father. Jason's father, Zeus. 
Jason felt stupid and guilty for getting envious, it's not the fact that Percy had been offered immortality, no. Jason couldn't care less about being immortal. It was the person who offered Percy invincibility that bothered Jason so much. 
Jason knew that even if he went to the ends of the world to accomplish something, his father wouldn't be able to praise him or even talk to him for a long time. 
Zeus and Jason could never be like Hades and Nico, or Poseidon and Percy. That's just how it is.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Reyna had come to camp half blood for a fun visit. Jason would've been ecstatic in other circumstances, but in this case, he wanted to be as far away from her as possible. Because currently, Reyna seemed to be looking at everyone, but refused to meet Jason's eyes. She seemed to keep her distance as she laughed at something Percy and Piper were saying. 
She may as well have just stabbed him, it would've hurt a lot less. 
He had truly been naive to believe that he could make amends with Reyna. Now he knew, it would never be possible. There was too much pain mixed with bitterness on both ends. But seeing her get along with Percy reminded him of the old times of friendship he and Reyna had shared. Keyword: had.
Once again, the fates had shown him that Percy Jackson would always be better. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As Jason Grace lay on the cold floor, coughing out blood. He realized he was alone, he was dying, but he was alone.
Like always. The sickly voice of Gaia, that had once haunted his nightmares, boomed in his head. Jason knew he was hallucinating as a result of blood loss, Gaia is in deep slumber. But that did not stop the voice in his head that was invented by his insecurities. Even in the end, you've been forgotten, Jason Grace. Because that's what you will always be. The second best. The leftover. The pawn who is discarded, after his purpose has been fulfilled. Percy Jackson would always be better in everyone's eyes. 
To the Romans, you are simply the one who betrayed his lineage. But Percy is the one who restored glory. He did your job for you.
To the Greeks, you are simply a burden, one whom they were forced to welcome.
To your father, you are merely one of his many sons. 
To your sister, you are a stranger.
Jason's resolve to live had weakened, hot tears were streaming down his face as he closed his eyes in defeat, he had come to the painful conclusion that nobody is going to come find his body. Nobody is going to mourn him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Oh I will always be much better than you at this! Bring it on, dude!” Percy laughed as he striked his play sword lightsaber at Jason's. They clashed. 
“You wish, Jackson!” Jason shot back jokingly, as they sparred playfully with toy lightsabers.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Jackson, you jerk. You were right after all, you will always be much better than me” Jason laughed bitterly, as he recalled that memory of his sparring session with Percy.
 Suddenly everything went black. The life had successfully ebbed out of him.
Little did Jason know, was that someone had indeed come to look for him. Tempest, his Pegasus had come to retrieve his body, but Jason was long gone. People had indeed mourned him. His friends were, indeed, anguished. His sister was, indeed, heartbroken.
Jason's soul parted this world, with the knowledge that he'd always be The forgotten Hero. 
The lost hero. Jason Grace.
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satorusugurugurl · 3 days
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The idea of yandere gojo and geto (both at the same time) plotting against their darling reader using geto's cursed spirits to make her on them gets my mind reeling for nights 👀 wonder if my favorite writer has any thoughts on this
Perfect Prey
Characters: Yadere!Geto Suguru, Yadere!Gojo Satoru,FAB!Reader
Warnings: yandere!Geto/Gojo, manipulation, dub! con read is unaware that the boys are manipulating her! (consent is vital for me!!) double penetration, smut, mentions of wounds, cursing
Word Count: 3,404
A/N: Ah! thank you Nonnie! This made me smile! Oooh, this, this was fun. I loved getting into this! I hope y’all enjoy it!! (I really enjoyed writing for Suguru 🥵)
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“I finally got my own mission!” Geto and Gojo glanced up at you as you proudly walked into the first-year's classroom. “Took years, but I think they finally realized I’m fully capable of destroying a curse or two by myself!”
Geto gave you a warm smile, resting his chin on his fist. “Is that so? Funny, I thought we made it clear one of us was supposed to accompany you on any mission.” He shut his eyes, tilting his head slightly to the side.
“Oh, that’s a good one, Suguru!” You excitedly plopped down on Gojo’s desk, kicking your feet back and forth. “All jokes aside, they did want to send one of you with me.”
“Wanted to send one of us?” Satoru questioned, dipping his chin to watch you.
The two men watched you closely as your pretty head nodded. “Yaga said,” you tilted your chin at Satoru, “You were assigned to come with me, Satoru. But seeing as you just returned from your mission, I insisted that I could handle a couple of curses on my own.” Gojo scoffed, his head turning to give Suguru a look of disbelief. “Oh, don't look at him like that!” Sure, the duo were best friends, but their silent communication between stolen glances made you feel left out.
“I don't think me coming back from a mission, which I handled easily because I’m Gojo Satoru, of course. Means I can't come with you. They assigned us this together.” The white-haired man’s time was thick with annoyance. “For a specific reason, I’m assuming.”
You cocked an eyebrow, eyes darting between the two men. “Why would the Gojo Satoru be needed to exorcise a handful of low-grade curses?” Looking at Gojo, you could almost hear the wheels turning in his head. “You know what—why do they even send you both you're Special-grades?” Before you could question them, Geto chuckled, soft and rich.
“Ignore Satoru; he’s just being clingy. Congratulations on your first solo mission.” Pride swelled in your chest at his acknowledgment. You happily kicked your feet faster as Geto reached over, ruffling your hair. “Just promise to be careful, and if you need any help, please know we’re but a phone call away.”
“Thank you.” The condescending tone of your voice has Satoru clenching his jaw. “I’ll get this mission done so fast, you won't even notice I’m gone!”
Geto pulled his hand back, nodding, dark hair swaying as you slid off the seal. “Be safe; we’ll see you at home.”
“I will! See you both later!”
Geto smiled, waving until the door shut, and he could no longer hear your footsteps down the hall. The instant he was confident that you weren't around, his smile fell, eyes narrowed at the door. Gojo was fuming, pulling his blindfold down, letting it pool around his neck. Between the two men, their anger could freeze Hell over.
“This is problematic.” Geto rubbed at the pulsing sensation in his temple.
“Problematic? No, this is a disaster if she gets through this mission, which we know she will! She's going to get more solo missions. Solo missions turn into group missions, with other sorcerers, other men.”
“And we can't have that. No one is good enough to protect her, let alone breathe the same air.”
Gojo sat on the edge of the desk, watching as his best friend tapped his thumb against the center of his forehead. Between the two of them, they would find a way to fix this sticky situation. Their solution had to be clean. They couldn’t have you finding out that they were the ones responsible for your lack of solo missions. The two pulled strings to ensure you were always with them.
Some might call them possessive and obsessive. But they didn't see it like that. They just knew no one on the face of the planet would ever be good enough for you. You were their darling little princess. The keywords are theirs and theirs alone.
“We could tell Yaga to pull her off, tell a white lie like maybe she changed her mind.”
“No, no, that would look suspicious. She went through all the trouble, convincing him to let her go alone. After all that, for us to ask that, she would start asking questions. We can’t have her knowing we’re responsible for her lack of solo missions.”
“Okay, do you have any ideas?” When Geto said nothing, Gojo sighed, exasperated, feeling Geto’s eyes on him. “It would be easier if we showed her how ‘dangerous’ these solo missions can be.”
A lightbulb went off in Geto’s mind. “Satoru~” he purred, “that’s a brilliant idea.” The other man furrowed crisp white brows in confusion. “She thinks it’s just a handful of curses, right?”
“Yeah?”
“It would be a shame if there were more curses than she could handle,” Geto smirked, specks of black forming behind his shoulder, his curses coming to life, revealing his intentions.
Satoru grinned wide with a sharp laugh. “That truly would be a shame, wouldn’t it? Poor sweetheart will have to call us to help.” Geto nodded, motioning for Satoru to follow.
“Come on, we got shit to do.”
Later that night, you were scrambling off the ground, wincing as the fifteen curses chased you around the corner of the abandoned building. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” You screamed, palms bleeding, knees scraped up as you stumbled back to your feet, barely avoiding the sharp teeth of the curse behind you.
This was supposed to be a simple job! One where there would be maybe two or three curses to take out! Three were okay! You were able to handle that on your own. But after you took them out, you suddenly found yourself surrounded by dozens of curses. All of them ranged from different grades, from four to two, but a couple gave off a darker presence, possibly special grades, which was not good.
How the hell did three curses turn into three dozen?! How could the intel be so off?! And how the hell were you going to get out of this?!
A low snarling snapped you out of your frantic thoughts before the curse in front of you swiped at your stomach with very long and very sharp claws. You dodged, falling back onto the ground, watching it close in on you. This was not good, not in the slightest, and it didn’t help that you were all alone!
Scrambling back, you pushed yourself off the ground, ducking into a room, slamming the door. “Goddamn, fuck me.” Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you called the two strongest men of the modern age. Sure, there was a one hundred and fifty percent chance they'd boast about how they were right, how you needed to listen to them, but that didn’t matter right now! “Pick up! Pick up, pick up!”
The phone rang and rang and rang. Just when you thought it would go to voicemail, the line clicked. Gojo yawned on the other line without a care in the world. “Hello~?” He cooed, listening to the raspy breathing.
“Satoru!” You gulped down breaths of air. “Toru, I need help!” You screamed as a curse slammed against the door.
Gojo covered the receiver, snickering as Geto eyed the building you were in. “What was that? You need our help?”
“Yes!” you cried out, “Satoru! Please help!!”
“Are you sure? I mean, I am considered a Special Grade; low-grade curses are something I shouldn’t worry about, right?”
Geto’s curse smashed through the door, dashing at you. He swore he could hear your scream through Satoru’s phone. His poor princess is getting chased around by his curses. This could have been easily avoided if you didn’t insist on taking on this mission alone. Unfortunately for you, the choices you made led to this outcome.
Your heart was hammering against your rib cage as you slipped and maneuvered around the curses slowly surrounding you. This was way out of your league, and you were beginning to regret now bringing one of the boys with you. Plus, Satoru wouldn’t drop everything and come running to your rescue, not after everything you’d said earlier.
“Toru, please.” Pleading was something you rarely did, but Satoru’s ego had been bruised, so you had to do what needed to be done. “Please, I'm begging you.”
Both Gojo and Geto exchanged a look with each other. “You beg so nicely,” Satoru commented, listening to a loud crashing sound followed by your curse. “I suppose I could come, maybe bring Suguru too.”
“Y-Yes! Yes, please!”
“On one condition.”
Despite the fact dozens of curses were chasing you, you stopped dead in your tracks. “Condition?! What fuckin’ condition?!”
“You never take a solo mission again.”
After this endeavor, he didn’t even have to ask you to do that. “Y-Yes! I agree. Just fucking hurry!” In the blink of an eye, the tall white-haired man teleported before you with Geto by his side. The curse that had been charging at you slammed hard against Gojo’s infinity before being forced back as the white-haired man stepped forward.
You fell to your knees, panting heavily as Geto peered down at you from over his shoulder. “Are you alright?” You just nodded your head, glancing down at your bleeding hands. “You don’t look alright.” You could smell the woodsy musk
as Geto knelt in front of you. “Give me.” He gently grabbed your hand, examining the scraps on the heels of your hand.
”Tsk, tsk, tsk.” Gojo chastised as he grabbed you and Geo, teleporting the three of you back to their apartment. “Guess your first solo mission didn’t quite go as well as you planned now, did it?”
There was no retort or sharp comeback because he was right. Even if the intel had been wrong, you couldn't handle this mission on your own. You had failed after you insisted that you could handle this mission without any hiccups. Now, that confidence was replaced with shame and disbelief. You had to call on your colleagues for assistance. After they warned you that this is something you wouldn’t be able to handle.
The two men who had orchestrated this scheme watched you with unreadable expressions—on the outside, their demeanor seemed unnerved, while on the inside, they were swelling with pride and excitement. Seeing you so distraught and broken had their pants tightening at the almost broken, blank look in your eyes.
“Oh, don’t be embarrassed,” Suguru announced, lifting you and ushering you towards the bathroom. “There’s nothing to be ashamed about. You’re not the only sorcerer who isn't capable of handling three dozen cursed spirits on their own. Not everyone is as strong as Satoru and I.”
Suguru moves to the shower, turning it on as you remain still, the events of the evening replaying over in your mind. “Suguru’s right. Not everyone would have handled a situation like that. You should be grateful, though. You’re lucky enough to have us willing to come to your beck and call.” Satoru is moving in front of you, holding your hands over the sink, running hot water over the wounds. “If we hadn’t shown up when we did, you could have died.” The truth of his words had your head jerking up, meeting crystalline eyes.
“I-I could have died.” The monotone repetition of his own words had Satoru’s cock throbbing at the broken throaty words that left your mouth.
“You could have.” He agreed, pressing his lips against your neck. “But you didn’t because we saved you.”
“I-I know.” You whispered as Geto joined your side. “You saved me.”
Hands, hot and rough, ran over the mounds of your breasts, gripping your hips, manhandling you in ways they had done in the past. There had been nights when the three of you had been so bored you just decided to hook up or when they just needed a little stress relief. This time, however, felt monumentally different. Like they were holding their breath, holding themselves back. Their stoic bodies jittered with anticipation, waiting to see what happened next.
To you, it was them being pent up, maybe the adrenaline rushing through their systems. Because if you were being honest with yourself, you felt just as pent up. Almost dying had you wanting to cave into your raw human desires. While the men standing on either side of you shared one of their infamous knowing glances. They weren’t driven by the adrenaline and passion of what had happened. Not in the slightest. No, their desire was driven by pure, unfiltered joy.
They finally had you right where they wanted you. Broken. You had lost a fight you knew you could have won. Due to them, your confidence in your abilities was clouded by a fabricated series of events.
First, you’d be broken, not taking missions alone any further. The next phase would be to distance you from the school slowly. Trying to convince you that you didn’t need to worry about working, the two made more than enough money to provide for the three of you. If all went according to plan, you would be their perfect little live-in girlfriend in no time.
What made all of this ten times better was the fact that you had no idea tonight's events had left you in their web of lust and desire. They were the spiders, and you were the poor innocent fly—a fly about to be devoured in the most primal ways imagined.
“Thank you for saving me.”
”Nu-uh.”
“We did save you, so you need to thank us properly.”
The men pressed lips against you, hands trailing over your body. You melted against them, gasping as hands cupped your breasts, hard cocks rubbing against your hips as they ground against you. They did save you, didn’t they? They went above and beyond to stop what they were doing and come to your aid.
“Y-Yeah, I think I will.” You whispered, turning to kiss each man on the mouth before sinking to your knees. “Please, let me thank you.”
Two thick long cock were suddenly in your face, throbbing and leaking pre-cum from angry, flushed tips. Seeing as your hands were scrapped up and ran, you took turns sucking and licking each man's cock, while they jerked off. Your tongue flicked, swirled, and lapped the two cocks, until their cum spurted over your face coating your lips and cheeks. Your appreciation didn’t stop there. You pulled both fully clothed men into the shower with you, tugging their clothes off and discarding them over the shower door.
Satoru and Suguru both help you, lifting you, your legs wrapping around Satoru’s waist as Geto’s wet, chiseled chest pressed firmly over your back. Both cock’s teased your wet cunt’s entrance, rubbing over against each other as you whined softly, tilting your head back. Their cocks both pressed past the tight opening of your pussy, stretching your walls in a painful yet pleasurable way, leaving your cock drunk the deeper they sunk into your wet heat.
A minute was all they allowed you to take to attempt to adjust yourself to the sensation of having two cocks buried inside of you. They were bullying inside of you. Satoru’s cock kissed your cervix with each thrust, While Suguru rubbed against your g-spot in the most heavenly way. Perhaps if you had been a good girl and just left everything as it was, they would have taken it easier on you. Regretfully, in their eyes, you had almost ruined their carefully constructed ploy to make you theirs in every sense of the word. Due to that, you were going to be punished severely.
Their thrusts were hard, deep, and almost painful. Fucking into you as if you were just a sex toy rather than a human being. Satoru’s teeth dug painfully into your shoulder, leaving indentations in his wake. Suguru’s mouth trailed kissed over the nap of your neck, mouth gentler than Satoru but his hands were as cruel as the white-haired man's. He pinched and pulled at your nipples, yanking them until you cried out his name before releasing his grip. The relief never lasted long; as soon as the dull, stinging sensation subsided, Suguru returned to the painful teasing.
The kisses, touch, and thrusts weren’t the only way they were mean to you. Their words stung just as bad as the scrapes on your hands and the abrasions to your knees. If you hadn’t been crying from the mere overstimulation of pained pleasure, their words might have had your eyes watering just as much.
”Our stupid dirty slut, getting herself into such a fucked up me.”
”Yes, dragging us both out to save her.”
“Then, on top of everything we did. Going out of our way to save her after she blatantly told us she was fine, she still gets fucked good like the whore that she is.”
”Yeah, she might not be able to take on a cursed spirit, but she’s sure good at taking two dicks at the same time.”
Their words had your skin flushing in shame and need, your mouth dropping into an ‘O’ as the abdomen in your lower abdomen started to tighten. “Oooh, fuk, please, ha—ah fuuck.” You were so close, so damn close to either passing out or having the most intense orgasm of your life. If you were lucky, which didn’t seem likely after all the mishaps today, maybe, just maybe, you could experience both. “G-Gonna cum, please.”
”You hear that Satoru, our little cock slut wants to cum.”
Satoru’s hips began to jerk faster, the head of his cock slamming into your cervix thrust after thrust. “Does she even deserve it?” He continued, leaving pain over your skin, his tongue brushing over the marks.
“P-Please, oooh god, please don’t tease”
“Hm, what do you say, Suguru? Nngh fuck—“ Satoru hammered his hips into you, thrust after thrust, drawing you closer and closer to the edge. “Should our precious girl cum?”
“Aaahh yes~ let her cum, make her take both our loads, then once she catches her breath, we fuck her even more.”
Reaching between your bodies, Satoru rubbed your clit, making your walls twitch around the two monster cocks inside of you. Their pace matches the others, working in harmony to send you over the edge. A scream, one that had never left you before, echoes inside the steamy shower. “C-Cummin! Cumming!” You screamed over and over until both of you stiffened, ropes of thick hot cum filling you.
“Take it bitch, take every last drop, milk me dry.” Satoru was always more vocal, nipping and sucking at your ear as his whiny groans invaded your mind.
“P-Princess, mmmhm, fuuuck.” Unlike Satoru, who was all about talking and heaving his voice, Suguru was softer, moans deep and feral, but he didn’t feel the need to announce it to the entire apartment complex. “Fillin’ you up so good~”
They both did; their hot cum leaked out of you, running down their softening shafts. In the shower, you hummed, listening to the tittering splatter in the water washing over you. The peaceful moment lasted for but a second as both men pressed kisses on your shoulder.
“You belong to us.”
“Do you understand?”
As their wandering hand dug into your skin, you nodded. Rocking slightly against them with a helpless whine. “Yes, yeah, I belong to you both!” The two friends shared a cold, knowing smirk as you began thrusting into you harder, making your eyes roll back into your head as loud moans wrecked through you. Little did you know how serious they both were.
You belonged to them in every way, shape, and form, whether you liked it or not.
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sarawritestories · 2 days
Text
Take A Break
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High Lord Eris Vanserra X High Lady Fem Reader
Summary: Eris comes home from business at the Spring Court. Only to hear reports from the staff that his High Lady has been working herself to the ground and not taking care of herself.
Dedicated to @milswrites and @eve175 who are constantly making sure I am taking care of me and getting proper rest. I adore you both!
Content Warning: I did not proofread this. This fluff, but Reader hasn't slept and has had some disordered eating habits (she has been working so hard
Peep the Critical Role Reference for any Critters reading this 😉
ACOTAR MASTERLIST
Eris Vanserra was glad to be home. Sure, working with Tamlin to rebuild the Court was mutually beneficial. Tamlin gets his court back, and Eris rebuilds a strong alliance with the spring. It was work worth fighting for to repair what Beron destroyed. However, he was itching to get home to his mate.
You were the apple of his eye, the moment the bond snapped on Calanami, his first as High Lord. Eris held no hesitation when it came to making you his High Lady. He watched how hard you worked at your bookshop. He knew you could handle it.
Reaching the stables, The Autumn High Lord handed his esteemed steed to the young fae male working. "Take care of sweet, Vex'ahlia, will you?" Eris gave the lad a warm smile and received an eager head nod. "Thank you."
Entering the palace, he was greeted by your two ladies-in-waiting. "My lord." The older woman bowed the younger one fidgeting, Eris picked up on the nervous behavior. "How was your trip?"
Eris bowed his head in return, "Very well, Maxine, but I am ready to see my wife. Though I suspect with the look on both of your faces, something is wrong." He tugged on the bond and found a quick tug back in return, and he couldn't help the sigh of relief that slipped past his lips.
Maxine sighed, "Sir, she has been sleeping in the study."
"If she sleeps at all." The younger one, Nadine muttered.
Maxine ignored her and continued, "We have barely gotten her to eat. She has buried herself so deep into work that she simply forgets that warm food is right there. I'm not trying to speak out of turn."
Eris gripped the older woman's shoulder, "You are not. I appreciate you telling me. Is she still in the study."
"Yes, High Lord."
Eris laughed, "Maxine, you can call me Eris. After all, you did change my diapers."
Maxine smiled, "I'll you whatever you like if you go take care of that wife of yours."
Eris kissed her cheek, "Yes ma'am," With that, he went to go find his High Lady.
****************************************************
You ran your fingers through your hair as you scribbled notes on some parchment. These last few days, you buried yourself in paperwork. Just when you thought you were done. More stacks would form. Not wanting to fall behind and with Eris being gone, you had decided to dedicate the time to working. Only to find you were getting overwhelmed, feeling like you could never walk away, missing meals, not sleeping, you were burning out.
You turned to grab more blank parchment when a voice came from the doorway, "Now what do we have here." You turned to find Eris there, his red curls laying atop of his head and the russet colors of his eyes gleaming in the fae light."
You dropped the materials in your hands. "When did you get back?" You bounced off your seat and ran to him, wrapping your arms around his neck.
"I just got here." He held you close, taking in your scent. "I heard something interesting, though."
You blinked, "Oh?"
He kissed your head, "My Little Dove has not been taking care of herself." You opened your mouth to protest, but he pressed his lips to yours. "There is no fighting me on this."
You sighed, "Okay."
He winnowed you to the kitchen. It being so late the kitchen staff was gone. Eris put on an Apron and you quirked a brow. "You cook?"
Eris smiled, "I do." He tossed an apron at you. "And I am going to show you how to make my favorite me." Your cheeks warmed, remembering how you gave him a small plate of cheese to accept the bond.
You walked over to him, "Ready to Learn."
****************************************************
Cooking with Eris was fun, and you learned that the high lord had a playful side. He'd sneak up behind you to try the sauce you were making. Dipping his finger to dab it on your nose, causing you to giggle. Once everything was cooking he pulled you into his arms and you began to dance.
He pulled you into a waltz with no music. And you watched as his smile grew, his freckles popping out by the fire and the fae lights. He wasn't worried about work, or his brothers, or his responsibilities. He was beautiful.His main focus was you. He pulled you closer, his hands sliding close to the curve of your ass. He kissed you.
He tried to deepen the kiss, but the kettle screamed that the water was boiling. Pulling away, you smiled and grabbed the kettle. Once the meal was prepped, Eris made your place and insisted he feed you.
"I am fully capable of feeding myself. I am High Lady." You pouted and Eris quirked a brow instantly causing you to fix your attitude.
"Yes, you are my High Lady. You're also zeroed in on your work so much this week you barely ate. So I am taking care of you." He patted his lap, "Sit, Dove." You obeyed, and the smell of the food made your mouth water. He scooped up some of the food with the utensil and leveled it to your mouth. "Open." You opened your mouth on command, and he placed the food in your mouth, and you moaned in pleasure. The flavor exploded in your mouth.
He fed you until the meal was gone. "Why haven't you been taking care of yourself?"
You met his Russet eyes and sighed, "I didn't do it on purpose. It simply felt like everyone needed me. I just lost track of time."
He sighed and kissed your bare shoulder peaking out of your sweater. "You need breaks. They are important. You'll burn yourself out or wither away into nothing if you don't." His eyes grew serious, "I don't want to see my mate suffering."
"I'm sorry." You leaned your head against his.
"Don't apologize to me. You need to apologize to yourself. You deserve to love yourself and see yourself as worthy of breaks." He held you close. "Okay."
"Okay... I may need gentle reminders." You whispered, a full belly causing the exhaustion to take hold.
"I will give you those gentle reminders." He kissed your forehead as your eyes fluttered close. Allowing the smell of autumn leaves and cinnamon from your mate to bring you comfort.
When you fell asleep, Eris carried you in his arms. Hands wrapped around your knees and shoulders and walked you to your shared bedroom. Placing you on your side of the bed, he pulled the covers over you. "Sweet Dreams, Little Dove." He kissed your head, causing you to stir and just turn over. The High Lord left your room and headed to your study where he would finish the paperwork that was stacked on your desk.
Fin
@secret-third-thing for your Eris reading pleasure
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shanastoryteller · 3 days
Note
Happy birthday! Could you continue the naruto daughter of the homage series?
a continuation of 1 2 3��4 5 6
Naruto doesn’t feel comfortable going back to the tower until the Suna kids have collected their scroll and arrived. Gaara had killed nine people – three teams total – in that time. None of them Konoha, thankfully, but that’s mostly due to her team and Itachi engaging in some creative luring and misdirection. The Konoha Twelve can be redirected outright by one of her clones, but the other leaf genin that she doesn’t know as well have to be lured rather than instructed. Getting their own scroll is more an afterthought than anything else.
They probably should have thinned the herd a little more. Now they’re having preliminary matches, which is just another chance for Gaara to kill one of her shinobi.
Great.
“Is that Orochimaru?” Sakura hisses, looking up at the spectator box. “Isn’t he a missing nin?”
Naruto flickers her glance upward, but she’d already known he was attending. What does surprise her are the two people by his side. “Yeah, but he’s also the Otokage, and one sort of trumps the other. Dad gave up on that one a long time ago, and Sarutobi still likes him besides. That’s not the interesting part.”
Jiraiya sends intelligence back to the village frequently enough, but she’s never thought she’d seen Tsunade back in the village.
~
Orochimaru is already bored.
He barely attends chunin exams when they’re in his own village. But Kabuto had given him an interesting report, and he hasn’t seen Minato in something like fifteen years, so he figured it couldn’t hurt. Besides, Anko is proctoring a portion of the exam, and she always complains that he doesn’t visit.
Jiraiya found out, somehow, which was bad enough, but then the traitor told Tsunade, and the two idiots insisted on coming with him for some reason.
Probably because they were worried Minato might try to arrest him, which is frankly insulting. He can and will kick that kid’s ass if he has to.
Hm. Maybe that’s what they’re intending to prevent, on second thought.
Minato’s daughter has her father’s coloring and her mother’s bone structure.
“I’m surprised she’s made it this far,” Jiraiya murmurs.
Kushina throws him an irritated glance, but the white knuckled grip she has on her armrests seems to imply she agrees with him. Minato doesn’t look at either of them, not that he’s looked at Kushina at all. There’s really no point in them playing the part of happy couple in front of foreign ninja if they can’t commit to the deception.
“She’s got a solid stance,” Tsunade says. “Don’t need working chakra coils for that, I suppose.”
Minato’s lips thin, but he keeps his silence.
“Gaara of Suna versus Rock Lee!” shouts Hayate, pausing to cough halfway through.
Orochimaru leans forward now that something interesting is finally happening.
It’s not as immediate of a bloodbath as he thought it’d be. Lee holds out, demonstrating a mastery of taijutsu truly can make up for an awful lot. He fiddles with the weights on his wrist, but then he glances up. It seems as if he’s looking at his sensei, who’s shouting encouragement, but standing just to the left of them is Team Seven.
Naruto’s lips tug down at the side and she shakes her head just slightly, the movements so small thar Orochimaru wouldn’t notice them if he wasn’t focusing on her.
Lee’s shoulders droop even as he backflips to avoid another deadly arm of sand. He’s not even close to exhausted, and he’s lasted longer against Gaara than anyone else has, but he raises his arm and says, “I surrender.”
Everyone is stunned, an air of disbelief surrounding them.
Gaara acts like he hasn’t heard, more sand barreling for Lee. Hayate moves to interfere, but he’s a lot slower than that sand is.
There’s a smudge of yellow across the arena, there and gone, taking Lee with it.
Orochimaru turns, expecting to see Minato’s seat empty, but he’s still there, eyebrows raised.
He frowns, looking back down, and Naruto is back out of the arena, putting Lee back on his feet. “It seems you didn’t hear him!” she shouts, grin so wide her eyes are slits.
“I didn’t know you taught her the Flash,” Jiraiya says.
Kushina stares between her husband and her daughter, eyebrows pushed together.
“Yes,” Minato says stiffly, “well.”
Interesting.
It appears Kabuto’s report was accurate.
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ameliathornromance · 3 days
Text
Your Orc tried to fool himself. You’d be back in a few weeks, there’s no point in dwelling on you. You’re not a stupid human woman by any means. And you’d been living with Orcs for the past few years, there’s no way you’re going down easily.
But that didn’t stop him from worrying. Your Orc would have gone with you, but due to it being a winter season, Orc hunts would have increased… And being caught travelling with a human woman would have put an even bigger target on his back than usual.
There was safety in numbers, so he had to stay with his camp.
He resolved to sit and wait by the entrance of his tent every morning and evening, watching Orcs leave and re-enter the camp with game and food. Your Orc hoped that you’d be in toe, following and chatting animatedly with other Orcs.
And every time, he was disappointed.
He neglected his duties in the camp, even after some encouragement from other Orcs around him… But when your Orc Boyfriend showed no intent to move, they started to worry for him.
The whole camp never realised how much of a detriment your separation would be to the Orc.
To distract your Orc Boyfriend, some of his closer Orcs cajoled him, “come on, let’s go hunting. The longer you sit there, the worse you’re going to feel. She’ll come back quicker if you busy yourself.” Said Kass – a hunting Orc.
“Yeah,” Crux agreed – another hunting Orc, Kass and him were never parted, even for a moment – “time always go by slowly if you’re waiting on it, c’mon!”
“I have to be here for when she gets back.” Your Orc huffed, crossing his arms.
The two rolled their eyes, “you haven’t done anything but sit there for weeks. Leaving the camp will be good for you, come on.”
After being poked and prodded by his two friends, your Orc begrudgingly agreed to go on a hunt with them.
Hunting was always harder in the winter. All the animals worth eating went into hibernation or hid simply because of how cold it was.
Luckily, your Orc and his others found prey rather easily. It felt good to blow off that anxious energy. Kass and Crux thought that your Orc Boyfriend had set a new record for catching wild animals in these icy conditions.
After a long day of trudging through snow, tying up the animals they had caught, your Orc and his friends returned back to the camp.
As they neared the camp, a familiar laugh pricked at your Orc Boyfriend’s ears. He stopped in his tracks, Kass and Crux stopping too.
“Is that…” Crux asked.
The laugh came again, louder this time.
And that was when your Orc knew. Dropping the dead carcasses, he took off into a run to the camp.
His friends shouted curses at him, but he didn’t care. His heart in his ears, blood thrumming through his veins, he charged through the camp and found you.
You stood in front of the clan Elders, handing them huge dried bundles of herbs, red nosed from the cold, but smiling. Alive and safe.
As much as your Orc wanted to sweep you into his arms, he couldn’t ignore the slight irritation that you had returned in his absence.
So, as quietly as he could, he crept up behind you. The Elders tried their best to ignore him as he got closer and closer. “The one time I leave camp,” he growled, bending down to the side of your head, “and you dare to come back so I can’t greet you!?”
Before you could turn to face your Orc Boyfriend, you were swept off your feet and pulled into a rib-cracking hug. Your Orc grinned as you let out a shout of surprise.
Throwing your arms around him, you squeezed him back. “I missed you so much!” You told him.
“He was miserable without you.” Your boyfriends company had come back into the camp, looking disgruntled. “I’ve never seen him looking like such a sad sap.” Kass snorted.
You rolled your eyes at them and kissed your Orc’s forehead, “aww, did you really miss me that much?”
Your Orc shot Crux and Kass a glare as they smirked, happy in their vengeance. But he grumbled, burying his head in your neck, “yeah.”
“Well I’m not going anywhere like that again.” You reassured. “That trip was a nightmare. And I’m sure the Elders have got enough of that herb to last a few years.”
Looking at the Elders, they nodded before turning back to return to their own tent. “C’mon, let’s catch up.” You said as your Orc put you down. “I want to tell you about the dragon who nearly ate me.”
“A dragon nearly did what?”
“Just kidding, I wanted to see your reaction.”
Your Orc rolled his eyes as you laughed and went off to your shared tent. Smiling, your Orc Boyfriend followed behind you, happy that you had returned, safe and sound.
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golden1u5t · 17 hours
Text
hollywood star | s.r x fem!reader
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ꨄ requested: anonymous
ꨄ genre: fluff
ꨄ summary: you and spencer had been in the early stages of your relationship when lila archer came along(or her stalker to put it better). you already weren’t fond of her when she’d been giving spencer heart eyes the entire time but when gideon sent him to watch over her for the night, that really set you off. 
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did he really expect you to protest against gideons instructions for him to be lila's bodyguard for the day? not exactly but he did expect you to have some type of reaction, something other than a glance in his direction before excusing yourself from the room. a small part of him wanted you to make a big deal about it but he knew that's not the type of person you are.
spencer didnt see you again after you left the room but he did look for you before he left to go to lila's house, though you were nowhere to be found. while he stayed at her house for the night, watching over her like the good guy he is, you were at the precinct with the rest of the team trying to figure out the unsub. you weren't exactly liking the fact that he would be gone with another girl all night but then again there wasn't much you could do about it, especially since you and spencer had only been "seeing" each other for a few weeks.
it had been some hours since he left with lila and you and the team were taking a break to have dinner. you had already finished with your dinner so you stepped outside to call him before you had to get back to working.
"how's your girl?" you asked him, your voice was practically dripping with sarcasm. you lowered your head since the wind had started to blow a bit harder since you got out there and you didn't want it interfering with the sound of the phone call.
"she's not 'my girl' and she's doing fine, a little flustered but fine nonetheless." he mumbled into the phone. when he turned around his eyes landed on lila in the kitchen pouring a glass of wine. he had stepped outside to take your phone call so that she couldn't hear.
"of course she flustered, you should've seen how she was staring at you with heart eyes and now she's got you in her home for the night." you shook your head and let out a soft scoff, your lips turning down into a frown.
there was a pause on his end which had you lifting up and looking down the street, biting your lip as you thought that maybe you'd scared him away with how straightforward you were. your thoughts were cut off by the sound of his voice.
"you're jealous." he stated, you could hear the smile on his face through his voice and it had you letting out a breath of relief but still rolling your eyes. "i- i like that. you're cute when you're jealous."
now it was your turn to go silent for a brief second, you could feel your skin start to heat up despite the harsh blow of the wind against your skin. "im not jealous."
"you totally are." you could hear spencer laugh for a second and then lila's voice calling his name, the smile you once sported dropping almost immediately.
you didn't particularly like lila even if she hadn't really done anything to you except like spencer, but in reality that was enough for you to dislike any woman.
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164 notes · View notes
grandlinedreams · 2 days
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|| welcome fellow Ghoul fuckers ily
|| notes: sequel to [this], got nothin' to really say beyond reader and Cooper make the most fucked up implied pseudo parents for Lucy lmao, Canon somewhat compliant, post s1, gonna have to wait for the prequel meeting dic to know why reader knows Coop's whole name
|| warnings: weapons supplier!reader, Canon typical gore/violence, something something save a horse ride a cowboy, NSFW ㅡ fingering, edging (i had to take a lap around my house), irradiated cream pie, unprotected sex (supposedly those swimmers are FRIED but I can dream),
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The low croak of a crow echoes over the barren stretch of sunbaked, irradiated earth ㅡ and the creature itself lands on the bent, rusted post of a long gone sign. Tilts its head this way and that, blinks liquid black eyes ㅡ three of them. Then squawks indignantly when a bullet narrowly misses it, jet black wings flaring as it takes to the sky to complain in that low, creaking voice.
"Get lost," you tell the bird, glancing at the way Dogmeat tracks the creature. Then she whines, licks at her muzzle like she wants to go catch and eat the damn thing.
"Don't even think about it, pup." You inform her, soothing the disappointment with rough scratches to her head that have her nudging for more before you walk away, sharp whistle summoning her to your side. You don't know why, but she's taken a shine to you over your companions, and you're not about to push her away.
The set up for tonight isn't far off, but it's the skitter of some other creature off in the distance paired with the ominous rumble from above that gets your attention ㅡ and you click your tongue at the foreboding, electric green that rolls in the clouds, cracking with lightning. It isn't nightfall yet, but it's growing closer with that mess on the horizon.
There's a pitiful attempt at a fire being made by Lucy when you return, and she offers a smile that you echo briefly before moving to Cooper's side, nudging him with your boot. "Storm's rollin' in."
He grunts, tugs his hat from where he'd been shading his face ㅡ pretending to sleep to ignore Lucy's still-attempting-to-be-friendly rambles, you suppose. "How far out?"
You shrug, slinging your pack back onto your shoulders. "About an hour, give or take."
Lucy flicks a confused look to both of you as Cooper gets to his feet as well, and her head tilts. "Why're we moving?"
You raise an eyebrow. "You want radiation sickness, vaultie?" It's worth it for the way she bristles, and you snicker. "Come on. There's something of a building not far from here."
You're kind enough to wait for her unlike Cooper, who heads off with Dogmeat while you trail with Lucy.
The building was probably an apartment complex at one point for the squared off, honeycomb like interior, the sections that remain halfway decent.
The presence of scattered, long empty supply packaging ranging from stimpacks to tins of cram says that you aren't the first to be here though, and you split off with Cooper to scout out the place, leaving Lucy with Dogmeat.
You're just as quick with tongue and trigger as Cooper ㅡ Lucy has learned that the hard way over the last week or so. But there's still a softness to you that Lucy likes, gravitates towards ㅡ and figure that Cooper likes it too, for the way she spots him watching you sometimes, pretends not to notice when he looks up and glares at her.
"Clear," you report, pulling her from her thoughts as you toss her a bedroll and a spare blanket. Where you got them, she doesn't know. And the dark stains of what absolutely is most likely blood tells her she doesn't want to know.
What she does know is that she's allowed what constitutes as a room to herself ㅡ three walls and a roof that won't cave in are enough for her to take it without complaint. Dogmeat goes with her, and when she looks up, she knows why with the unspoken way you and Cooper split off for the same little room a couple broken spaces down from hers.
"Get some rest, Lucy," you tell her, offer a small smile that makes her beam as she settles down for the night, deciding that she is far, far better off not thinking about just how close you and Cooper actually are.
"Cute kid," you remark as you finally trail into the room after Cooper, earning an amused scoff.
"Fuckin' annoying is what she is," he grouses, and it's your turn to laugh as you shrug off your pack and kneel, digging for your own bedroll.
"Considering that's what you called me when we first metㅡ"
"No, I called you an annoying bitch."
"Potayto, potahto." You tug the bedroll free and roll it out, blinking as Cooper settles himself over it with a groan and then a sigh. "Excuse me."
He peers up at you. "What now?"
"This is my bed." You snip, jerking a thumb over your shoulder. "Up, Cooper."
"Nah." He folds his arms behind his head. "You like the vaultie so much, go cuddle up with her."
You stare. "Cooper Howard," you say, "if I didn't know better, I'd think you were jealous of the kid." He's silent, and you raise an eyebrow. "Are you?"
"No." The words is sharp, and he lifts his head to eye you. "Don't need to be jealous when I know what's mine," he rasps, "now quit bitchin' and c'mere."
You don't know what it says that you do so without fuss, settling yourself to straddle his hips as he sits up, draping your arms over his shoulders.
"There," you snip, adjusting to flick at the rim of his hat. "Better?"
He watches you with eyes as dark as an oil spill, and you don't miss the flick to your mouth and back up. "Gettin' there."
You snort. "You know," you murmur, tone dropping lower, "if you wanted to kiss me, all you gotta do is ask."
He smirks, the flash of his teeth. "Where's the fun in that, sugar? I like the chase. Besides," he lowers his tone, leans in further, "you're the one bitchin' when we can share this sad excuse for a bed. And the way I see it, you're gettin' the better deal anyways."
You roll your eyes, act like you're annoyed ㅡ but the way you don't tell him to shove it or get off of him speaks volumes enough.
Poetically, it starts raining just as you kiss him. The fingertip drum of it on the roof, sour-sweet smell of it that still reaches you because this isn't a real bedroom, just some shitty excuse for it. Doesn't matter, because this is far better than the kisses you've stolen over the last few days when you're absolutely certain Lucy isn't watching either of you.
Cooper seems to think so too for the way he deepens the kiss, cups your face as he nips at your lower lip and licks into your mouth when they part.
He squeezes at your hips, snakes his fingers back under your shirt, pinches and tugs and maps until you're squirming in his lap as he shoves your shirt off completely. He pulls, coaxes you into an arch that lets him mouth at your ribs, nip and sow sparks of pleasure in your veins as he leaves little patches of bruised pink skin in his wake.
He likes marking you, he realizes, the subtle claim without him having to say it. Mine.
He welcomes the grind of your hips against his, your body soft in all the ways that his isn't, filling in the cracks and rounding out all his sharp edges until he can't think of anything but getting his hands on you properly.
The pop of the button on your jeans is easy, the slip of his hand deliberate ㅡ you're louder this time, covered by the storm above as you whine and moan and buck into his hand and the sinful, clever work of his fingers.
And then just as you're about to crest that wave of pleasure, he stops. Smirks at the way you glare, taps your nose with his other hand. "You know you don't get nothin' for free around here, sugar."
He's teasing though, pushes you back to work his belt open, pants down ㅡ then dragging you back over him. Groans, tips his head back at the teasing glide of you before he's adjusting to line himself up and guiding you down.
The gasp he gets is music to his ears, nearly lost to the gutteral, hissed noise he makes himself at the tight, warm squeeze of you around his length. His eyes roll, and he bucks his hips up.
"C'mon sweet thing," he rasps, "don't make me do all the work. Ride for me."
The rhythm is stilted for the way he grips your hips anyways, reluctant to let you pull off of him too much ㅡ but it still feels good. Your breath matches the staccato movement, hands splayed on his chest for balance and head thrown back, looking for all the world like some sort of dedication to a long gone diety that he'd gladly worship to the end.
And he does still, reverence to the way he touches, kisses, bites ㅡ throbbing vitality in your veins calling to him, sweet siren song wrapped in those plush lips of yours. Soft skin squeezed under his fingers, forgiving for all the ways he can't be gentle, desperate as he is.
It's the throttled clamp of your warmth that says you're coming undone, gooey and wet and warm in all the right ways that has him clutching at you, cursing as his hips jerk and he fills you, mouthing at your pulse point as he does.
Heavy breathing sets the undertone of the roll of thunder outside crumbling walls, rapid beat of two hearts, and there's something dangerously soft, romantic in the way he lets you melt into him.
You drape over him, whisper soft kisses to his cheek, his jaw, his mouth until he kisses you back, slowly, selfishly, dangerously sweet.
"You," he tells you, "are absolutely no good for me." He slings an arm over your waist, softens the bite until it's nonexistent.
After all, what's one more vice?
In the morning, the four of you leave ㅡ there's a lot of ground to cover, after all. Lucy walks beside you, Dogmeat and Cooper just a few feet ahead.
"So," she begins conversationally, "what're those marks on your neck from?"
To your credit, you neither flinch nor blush, busy yourself with fussing with something at your hip. "Mosquitos."
Lucy hums. "That's funny, didn't realize mosquitos got so big. Best be careful then, huh?"
151 notes · View notes
mariasont · 1 day
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Office Sleepover 2 - A.H
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a/n: had sm fun writing this one yall
im so down bad for him ugh
masterlist
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
part one here!
pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader
summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)
warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader flashes hotch AGAIN, drinking on government property lmao, drunk reader, suggestive comments
wc: 3.2k
You were restless, to put it simply. Every conceivable activity within the BAU had been exhausted, and you had explored every nock and cranny of the office, leaving no corner untouched. At this point they should start paying you for tour guides because you'd be an expert.
You were bored, frankly, and lonely--the team had been on a case all week and you were stuck here. How Garcia managed was beyond you--the walls seemed to close in on you as stir craziness took hold. You kept busy with work, offering as much help as possible while staying put, but it really wasn't the same.
You missed the team, and a particular member's absence you felt just a tad more, though you wouldn't admit it. Thankfully, they were supposed to be back any second now. While Penelope had a special place in your heart, the thought of sitting through another round of her and Kevin's awkward flirting was almost too much to bear. Without Hotch to keep it in check, it was all the more excruciating.
"Bye, Kevin," you chimed in unison, your voices intertwining just as the door clicked shut behind him.
Once you were sure he wasn't coming back, you shot Pen a knowing glance, arching an eyebrow as you pointed one of her fuzzy pens at her.
"Ease up on the death stare, will ya?" Penelope chided, as she wheeled her chair back to her computers, her finger twirling towards you. "You get so broody when the boss man's gone."
You lobbed the pen in Penelope's direction. "No," you replied with a huff. "I get broody when the whole team leaves me behind."
"Gasp," Penelope declared, placing a hand over her heart. "Can you believe it? They're genuinely concerned for your well-being. The audacity!"
"Okay, but seriously, what's the bigger priority here--my life or my sanity? Because it's a fine line," you said with a shrug, pushing your chair back dramatically.
But, before the chair could gain any momentum, you found yourself abruptly against the wall, your head cushioned by an unexpected softness. Without a moment to comprehend, your chair was spun, your eyes growing impossibly wide as Hotch's belt appeared abruptly in your line of sight. You raised your eyes to meet his.
"Your life, I would wager," he said evenly, "but then again, I might be a little biased."
You sprang to your feet, too quickly, your foot catching, sending you lurching forward. Almost instantly, Hotch's hand was securing around your arm, preventing you from landing straight on your face.
"Oh, Hotch, sir, hi," you said, flustered and slightly disoriented. "I didn't realize you guys were back."
"We just got back," he said, his hand falling away from your arm, and you hated yourself for how you felt a subtle coolness that replaced the comforting heat of his touch. "Do you have those reports I asked for?"
"Oh, absolutely, they're ready at my desk," you assure. "I'll bring them to your office in a sec."
As he nods and exits, your scoop up your belongings from Penelope's desk, raising a finger. "Don't even say it, Pen."
You ignored the way she cackled as you left, moving to your desk to grab the needed papers. You attention was captured by Spencer and Emily standing by her desk. Without a second thought, you wrapped your arms around them both, pressing them against you.
"Ugh, I missed you guys so much."
They both laugh, their hands taking you in quickly as you lean against them.
Emily grins, ruffling your hair as she nudges you. "A week away and you're this clingy? We'll have the start weaning you off us, huh?"
"Don't tease," Spencer starts, his hand resting on your shoulder, "But out of curiosity, how many times did you check our desks while we were gone?"
"Too many times to count," you admit begrudgingly, a sheepish grin on your face. As you glance up, your eyes catch Hotch's through the glass pane. "Oops, almost forgot why I came down here."
Approaching Hotch's office, you tap on the door frame and enter. "Here ya go, sir." you offer, extending the documents toward him.
Your fingers lightly touch as he takes the papers, and for a moment, you're rooted to the spot, the brief contact sparking a surge of disarray in your senses. God, it's almost beyond belief that one man could have this kind of effect on you.
Hotch nods his acknowledgement. "Thanks," he murmurs. As you pivot to leave, he adds, "Could you sit down for a moment?"
You cast a teasing look over your shoulder. "I hope I'm not in trouble," you say. His expression doesn't change. "Wait, am I? Because that would definitely be enough to push me over the edge, sir."
"No, you're not in trouble," Hotch assures you. "I've received updates concerning your case."
You lowered yourself into the chair, hands perched in your lap, your eyes wide as you met his gaze. "Please tell me it's good news because I'm starting to forget what my own bed feels like."
"You've been here just over a week," Hotch states, matter-of-fact.
You blow out a breath, arms crossed over your chest. "Hotch, it's scary at night."
He clears his throat, "Anyway, it's good news. We've got a lead on the hitman, though it's not the all-clear you're wanting."
"Well, that's something at least," you concede with a nod. "But I don't get why I can't be involved in this investigation."
As Hotch opens his mouth, you jump in, deepening your voice to copy his. "Because you're too close to it."
He regards you steadily, clearly not amused.
"Yup, okay, I'm done, sorry, I'm leaving now," you relent, getting to your feet quickly and striding towards the door, but a hand beats you to it, closing it abruptly and effectively barricading you in.
With a quick turn, you ended up flush against the door, Hotch's hand resting against the wood just above your ear. You felt like you were short-circuiting, your eyes growing wide as they met his. He says your name, but it doesn't quite register--too engrossed in the heady scent of his cologne, the pressing warmth of his body, the nearness of his chest, so close that an inch's movement could mean a soft kiss to his neck. Not like that would be totally inappropriate or anything.
"What?"
"I said, I'm worried about you."
You wanted to kiss him, man, you really wanted to kiss him. You bit the inside of your cheek to refrain from doing so.
"Why?"
It was barely audible, more air than sound, not daring to disturb the space too much, afraid of him suddenly becoming aware of just how close he was.
"You're very quick to make light of things, to make jokes, but I'm asking you to be real with me here. What are you feeling?"
His hand left the door, settling on your shoulder, his thumb hovering just shy of the hollow of your neck. Unconsciously, you found yourself leaning into the gentle pressure.
"That sounded sarcastic, Hotch," you noted, your tongue briefly sweeping across your lips, which seemed to dry out as you talked. "You're not implying my jokes need work, are you?"
His lack of response and narrowing eyes made you cave.
"Okay, fine, Hotch. You want the truth? I'm scared, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? That I have nightmares every night? That I can't sleep?"
Your breaths came faster, teeth meshing tightly as you stared up at your boss. His hand found your cheek, his thumb sketching a path across your skin that ignited a trail of goosebumps over your whole body, making you hyper-aware of your every pore.
"What can I do to help?"
Stay with you, kiss you, fuck you--numerous thoughts ran raced through your thoughts, but none of them seemed wholly appropriate.
"N-Nothing, Hotch, really, I'm okay. It's not something that can be fixed, which is why I didn't say anything. Plus, everyone on this team has been through worse. I can handle it. I'm tougher than I look."
"I know you are, but I—," his words were cut short, a sudden knock at the door silencing him mid-sentence.
His hands fell away from you, but the sensation lingered, the heat of his touch seeming to brand you, marking where he had been. You ran a hand through your hair in an attempt regain some form of composure, just as he opened the door to reveal JJ.
Her eyes darted between the two of you, finally focusing on Hotch. "Sorry, guys, I have that footage from the press conference--is that what you needed?"
"Yes, right." Hotch nodded, pulling the door open further for her, then returning his attention to you, observing your flushed cheeks and uneven breath. "We'll continue this later, okay?"
"Yeah," you exhaled sharply before ducking out of the room.
You need to get a grip, or maybe a Xanax, probably both.
Once the office had emptied, leaving you alone, you sat pitifully on your bed. It was Friday, but there was not much cause for celebration when you were stuck here, surrounded by stale office air. You sprawled out on the mattress, tracing the patterns of the popcorn ceiling overhead. If someone didn't figure out this hitman situation, you were going to take him out yourself.
Not really, that would definitely be a death wish. Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of muffled shuffling outside your door. Sitting up, you slid into your slippers and stepped out into the hallway.
"There she is!"
You snickered as Penelope extended her arms with jazz hands, while JJ and Emily lifted their arms to show off their wine stash. Gratefully grabbing a glass from Emily, you pulled them all into a group hug. "I can't help but feel like we're about to be the subject of a very specific memo from HR after this."
Giggles from JJ accompanied the wine pouring as you stepped back. "Hotch is surprisingly on board we this—encouraged it even. Can you believe it?"
Warmth dusted over your cheeks at the thought. You wanted to kiss him even more, if that was even possible.
"Trust me," Penelope insisted, shaking her head as she paused for a drink. "I wouldn't dare cross HR again. Once was more than enough."
You wanted to say you were a classy gal, confident in your ability to drink responsibly--it was only wine, after all, not Everclear. But as the night went on, your voice rose a decibel too high, your balance a bit unreliable, and your displays of affection way too unrestrained.
You were already a touchy person, ask any of your team members, but with a few drinks, you're giving high school sweethearts a run for their money in the PDA department.
Your arms were flung around JJ's neck, peppering her cheek with kisses as you sang along to whatever music Pen was playing in between smooches. JJ was laughing, tilting backward on her heels, nearly knocking you both over.
"I love you guys. So so much." you said, each word stretched and muddled as you reached out to Penelope, who happily linked her fingers with yours.
"You are so drunk!" Emily accused, her palms squishing your face as she chuckled.
"'M not," you protested, words stifled by compressed cheeks.
She freed your face to grab more wine, Penelope not far behind, as you situated yourself on your desk chair.
"You know who I also love?" you questioned to no one in particular as you slid your phone out of your back pocket. "Morgan, Reid, Dave, and--,"
You paused, your nose crinkling as you bit down hard on your tongue.
"And?" Penelope pressed, brows raised as she looked at you expectedly.
"Hmm?" You hummed innocently, blowing a kiss her way as you shrugged off her question. "I'm gonna call Morgan."
Your eyes darted down to your phone, only to find the room swirling like a carousel. It took a heartbeat to register--someone's voice was already coming from the speaker.
"Hello? Morgan? How'd you know I was going to call you?"
"It's Hotch."
Your eyes grew comically large, a hand flying over your mouth, smothering the laughter that threatened to fall. "Hotch! It is so late! Why are you calling me?"
You shushed the group with a finger to your lips, the girls' curious eyes on you as JJ practically crawled towards you to eavesdrop.
"You called me." He paused. "Are you okay?"
"Hotch," his name was more of a whine than anything as you tossed your head back. "I'm fine, like, the definition of A-Okay. I'm with my friends and we're all kinds of okay."
You shot Emily a thumbs up.
"Good. Okay." Another pause. "Maybe drink some water, yeah? No more wine."
You gasped. "Agent Hotchner, I am a federal agent of the government. I know when I should be cut off."
"Oh, my god, get her off the phone."
You don't know who said it, but it sent you spiraling into another round of giggles, the phone slipping through your fingers while JJ pounced on it.
"Hey!"
She held up a hand, keeping the device just out of reach.
"Yeah, she's pretty drunk." JJ said, then frowned. "Hotch, listen she's more of a lightweight than we realized." You slumped against the chair. "Yes, sir. Goodnight, sir."
JJ ended the call and placed it back into your hands. "I cannot wait until you remember this in the morning," she sang, before casting a glance to the others. "Also, a heads-up--Will's almost here."
"No!" It came out louder than intended, almost a shout, as you stood, sending Spencer's pens tumbling. "Whoopsie." You latched onto Penelope, murmuring, "Stay here, don't leave me."
Penelope's laughter rang out, her hands cradling your head. "Worry not, I've set the security guy straight--if you get even a scratch, I'll make him regret the day he was born."
"See, this is why you're my favorite," you whispered.
"Heard that."
Will eventually texted JJ, letting her know he had arrived. As the they waited by the elevator, the doors slid open to reveal Hotch standing there. A squeal escaped you, matched by his single raised eyebrow surveying your condition.
Your cheeks were painted a rosy tint, hair in a delightful tangle, and your shirt hanging askew off your shoulder--you were an adorable spectacle of disorder, and he found himself suppressing the small smile that threatened to reveal his amusement as the other girls filed into the elevator.
He had made them promise not to leave until he got there, not keen on the idea of you being left alone like this. It might have been an exaggeration, but when you butt dialed him and he heard the sound of your slurred speech it had him envisioning all sorts of worst-case scenarios. Sure, he had seen you drink during team nights out, but nothing like this.
"Hotch!" You shouted, moving to him with a rapidity that might be, well definitely, was ill-advised.
He stood motionless as you looped your arms around his neck. You smelled so nice--a sweet hint of vanilla instead of the anticipated alcohol. After a brief hesitation, his hands slowly found their way to your waist.
"What are you doing here, silly?" You ask, pulling back just enough to see his face. "Wait a second, please don't say we have a case."
A subtle smile played on his face, his hand not budging from your back. "No, there's no case."
"Oh, good," you murmured, your head bobbing lightly in approval. The light touch of your fingers at the base of his neck spread a warmth through him. "You want a drink? I think there's still some wine left."
"No, I'm fine," he said, clearing his throat and taking a step back. "I think you need to get to bed."
Your hands lingered at his neck, softly exploring his hair as you looked up with a smile that made his pulse race unexpectedly.
"Is that an order as my boss or a suggestion as my friend?"
He raised his brow. "Both?"
"Well, okay," you shrugged as you took a step back. "Wanna see my room? I don't think you've seen it yet. Everyone else has."
Without giving him a chance to object, you dashed down the hallway. He trailed behind with reluctance, knowing just how dangerous this could be for him. He was all too aware that he shouldn't be here, let alone in your room in your current, wine-fueled state.
You fumbled for the light, fingers slipping before finding the switch as you stumbled into the cramped room. It was pink. Very pink. The pullout couch was lost beneath a mountain of pillows, excessive by any standard. Your closet was bursting, and a collection of gadgets and gizmos had overtaken the room, but he liked it, a lot.
Your collapse onto the bed sent pillows scattering to the floor, his mind wandered about the unseen details of your bedroom at home, and even more so, the thought of what a shared space between you two might look like.
A sigh escaped him as he stood over you. "How about changing into your pajamas first, hm?"
"No thank you."
"You're going to hate yourself if you wake up in jeans tomorrow."
"Fine." You pouted, propping yourself up on your elbows. "Top right drawer please."
He shot you a look but obliged anyway. There was something about that puckered out bottom lip that made him think he'd do just about anything you asked, like he was putty in your hands. Pulling out the most conservative pair of pajamas from the sparse selection, he made a mental note to ask about that later.
"Thank you," you said with a smile. He really liked your smile. "You know, you're really such a nice person, Hotch. Or—Can I call you Aaron? Just tonight?"
He felt a sudden emptiness in his chest as the air was knocked out. "You can call me Aaron. Just tonight."
A high-pitched squeal escaped you as you began shedding your clothes. He offered a stifled cough, quickly averting his gaze and nudging the door closed with his free hand.
"Well, Aaron," you said plainly, "I really like you."
The effort it took for him not to pivot on his heel was immense, particularly when your voice sweetened like honey at the mention of his name.
"You're a great boss."
"I like you too, Agent."
"No, you don't, well, I mean—you can turn around now," you said. "You like me, but I really like you. It's not the same."
As he turned to face you, he could sense his cock twitching in his pants, a physical reaction to the sight of you fumbling with your shirt, your tits exposed in full view, as if begging to be touched.
"Christ," he hissed, gripping the ends of your shirt and yanking down. He was sure you were going to hate yourself in the morning. "You're not making sense, and I think you need to sleep it off."
"Yeah," you replied, your eyes warmly meeting his as you gave him a lopsided smile. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen you in such casual clothes, Aaron. You look very handsome."
He needed to get you to bed before he did something he'd regret. He softly nudged your shoulders backward, offering no verbal response. You surrendered to the motion with complaint, your remaining strength insufficient for anything else.
Softly, he settled to blankets around you, taking a moment to study you, with the intention of memorizing you completely (even the part of you that was far too drunk).
"Goodnight, Aaron."
He summoned all his restraint to keep from crashing his lips into yours. He smoothed back your hair, allowing himself that as he shot you a tired smile. "Goodnight."
He hadn't even touched the doorknob when your plea reached his ears. "Aaron, I—, will you stay with me?"
And who was he to deny you anything?
taglist: @chronicallybubbly
127 notes · View notes
f0point5 · 3 days
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What if I told you I’m back?
This was a request but tumblr ate, you’ll all just have to believe me. Someone asked for a Max POV during the best friend era. So, I decided to go with this one ✨set 16th April 2018✨ the day after the Chinese GP, because I feel like we don’t talk enough about the early friendship.
I hope this finds its way to whoever sent in the ask and that you enjoy it 🫶
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Max almost turns around three times on the way to your building.
The first time, it’s when he realises it’s late, gone ten p.m. on a Monday, you might be asleep. He should go home and come by tomorrow. But you’re a night owl, you won’t be asleep.
The second time, he thinks you won’t be asleep, but you won’t be expecting company. He hasn’t even texted, and he should have, but he left his phone in his jacket which he gave to his concierge to send upstairs with his bags. He should intrude. But he’s not exactly company, he’s seen you in your pyjamas, it’s not like he’s suggesting you go out.
The third time, it’s the absurdity of the situation that gives him pause. He hadn’t even set foot in his building before setting off to yours. After three and a half weeks away one more night shouldn’t be a big deal. Maybe you’ll think he’s a bit strange. But equally, it shouldn’t be a big deal to just see you for a minute, right? If only just to give you your present.
He’s surprised by much he found himself missing you. It’s not like he hasn’t been sued to being away from his friends and family his whole life, it’s not even like you didn’t talk while he was away. You talked a lot. But, he rationalises, he’d got used to having you around during winter break, you’d hardly been apart. You’d even come home to his mum’s with him just before Christmas. Your presence, your perfume, your way never letting him finish a sentence, it was all normal to him now. It wasn’t that he needed it, just that he had had to learn how to be without it, and that had been harder than anticipated. The last time he’d done that he was eight.
It only occurs to him now, as your building comes into view, that you might not feel the same way. You’d said you’d missed him countless times in the last three and a half weeks, but that didn’t signify. After all, he’d said it maybe twice and he here he was, asleep on his feet but at your door because he didn’t want to go home without seeing you.
He should just go home.
“Max?” No turning back now. He turns around to see you, dressed in a pretty blouse and a short skirt, teetering towards him on stiletto heels. “Maxy, Maxy, Maxy,”
You collide with him before he has a chance to laugh at the way you were squealing like a child. He hugs you back, holding you up when you lift your feet off the floor for a second. He’s half expecting you to smell like a distillery, unable and unwilling to comprehend that your reaction is all your own. But all he smells is your perfume, and it feels like Christmas all over again.
“Hey,” he says, lowering you to the ground and finally getting a good look at you. Your hair’s a little shorter, your face is- no, you couldn’t have gotten prettier. You’re a bit more tanned.
“I thought you were still in China,” you say, squeezing his shoulders. “You look so hungry, have you lost weight?”
“I just got back,” he says with a shrug. You’re almost his height in your heels, he notices for no discernible reason.
You take in his no doubt plane-rumpled appearance. “Did you come straight here?”
“Uh,” he clears his throat. He’s not going to admit that when you’re giving him a warranted look of confusion, but he doesn’t want to lie either. “I brought you a present.” He holds up the package, wrapped poorly on the flight home. Even the flight attendant had given him a sympathetic look as she watched him struggle.
“Aw, thanks,” you say, pressing your key fob against the censor and pulling open the door before Max can get to it. “Come up,”
“Are you sure?”
You give him an incredulous look, lit up by the golden glow of your lobby lights. “Of course,”
You tell him about the dinner you were just getting back from when he arrived, all the way up to your flat. Some people would find it odd or even rude that Max has been a continent away, racing the fastest cars on the planet in front of millions of people, and yet you’re perfectly at ease taking time to talk about your overly creamy pasta. Max likes it, relishes it, even. You’ve never seen him or his job as anything special. He went to work, you went to dinner. It’s normal. Just friends catching up.
You let him into your flat, heading straight for the kitchen, and Max takes the same seat at the breakfast island that he always does. He idly wonders if anyone else has sat in it since he’s been away.
“But then it’s not exactly Naples, you what can you expect. Sometimes I think the French sabotage Italian food on purpose,” you say, filling a wine glass with water from your fridge dispenser. “Great race, by the way. Glad my voodoo worked,”
Max scoffs. “So, you didn’t watch it,” he shakes his head as if that will help the memories fade quicker.
“I did. Got up at the crack of dawn and everything. And I cursed your car not to win,“ you say with a mischievous grin, pulling out a can of red bull from the fridge.
Max frowns. “What the fuck?”
“You can’t win when I’m not there to see it,” you declare, handing him the Red Bull. He reaches to take it, but you don’t let go until he looks at you. “I’d have been devastated,”
For the first time in his life, Max is actually half glad he didn’t win a race.
He chuckles, opening the can with one hand while sliding the gift along the counter towards you with the other.
“Well, I want to win,” he says, as you start picking at the copious amount of sellotape. “So you’ll just have to come to all the races,”
He’s surprised how much he means that.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Maxy. Oh my God, you can’t wrap for shit,” you say, finally managing to pull apart first Max’s wrapping, and then the box containing the, “Chopsticks?”
“Very fancy chopsticks,” Max explains. He points to the set of dark wood chopsticks you’re holding, gesturing to the intricate gold figures entwined on the top. “See, one set has dragons and one set has a phoenix? They’re famous in Chinese mythology. The guy said to give It to someone you like, they’re supposed to bring luck. Or something. I didn’t really understand his English,”
You stare at them for a while, a sort of bewildered smile on your face, and Max almost slaps himself. He should have just bought you a handbag. They had a Chanel in China. Why didn’t he just listen to his dad? This sentimental shit is weird and embarrassing and he should have just gone home.
“So,” you say, using the chopsticks to point at Max accusingly as you smirk at him. “You like me now? Who would have thought? After all those years of telling everyone how annoying I was, you like enough to want me to have good luck,”
“You-“ Max fights the urge to argue.
That smug look on your face still triggers him something awful. But behind it is someone who has become important to him. It’s not just that you know things about him that even he’s forgotten, it’s that he doesn’t want there ever be anything you don’t know about him. You him laugh, and he never wants to see you cry, and he’s used to being reviled and admired, and even liked, but you’re the only person who’s ever made him feel this understood.
“You’re my best friend,”
Once, he might have been embarrassed that you don’t say it back, but just like you know him, he knows you now, too. You grin at him, sipping your water as you look at him over the rim of your glass.
“Well, despite the fact that this whole chopstick story sounds like the beginning of an Indiana Jones movie, they’re beautiful, and I love them, and I promise I will only ever use them to eat Chinese food with you,” you say, putting the chopsticks back in their box. “And I’m glad you’re home.”
Max doesn’t say anything, fiddling with the can again, and you sigh.
“When are you leaving again?”
“Um,” he hesitates, like if he doesn’t say it then it won’t happen. He gives up and gives you an apologetic smile. “Thursday. Going to the UK for some work and then straight to Baku,”
“Oh,” your face, falls, and you toy with the stem of your glass, only for a few seconds, before you shrug. “Well, we should have dinner before you go, and then-“
“Do you-“ He cuts himself off, because he knows he should think about this more, but then you’re looking at him and he’s done thinking. “Do you want to come?”
“To the UK?”
“Yeah,” Max mumbles, looking down at his Red Bull as his fingers fiddle with the tab. “And to Baku,” he glances up to see your reaction, “and, I mean, anywhere,” he adds a shrug, because, obviously, the invitation is totally casual.
You shrug back. “Okay,”
He can hear his dad already, complaining about how you’re a distraction, you bring cameras and drama, how Max gives you too much of his attention on race weekends. But there’s worse things than Jos’s moaning, like not seeing you for another two weeks.
He barely has time to think about that before a Chinese takeout menu slides into his vision. He looks up at you, confused. “Didn’t you eat?”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t look like you have in about a week. You are starting to get Cillian Murphy cheekbones,” you grimace. Max has no idea who that is but based on your face he doesn’t want to look like him. “And besides, I want to test out these magic chopsticks,”
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toorurs · 4 hours
Text
our love has always been 10 centimeters apart - aventurine
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synopsis: the distance between the two of you is about to close, the distance will be gone, it only takes a few more inches, but he reminds himself that he can’t - he refrains. later on mere inches turn into vast kilometers, going beyond galaxies and planets. years later he finds you again and makes it up to you, closing the distance as he seals it with a kiss; or the two times the both of you were away from each other even though the only thing you’ve longed for was each other, and the one time where the two of you find your way back to one another again.
pairing: aventurine x reader (gn) | wordcount: 2.0k | content & warnings: unestablished relationship, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, reader cries a bit (tiny bit), mentions of alcohol and “sex” (an idiom = get into one's pants) but no graphic mention of sex + they’re not drunk, kissing, making up and making out (one kiss), tba if i find more, proofreading is for losers (its 4am (cet) i'm just too lazy); oneshot
tags: @azullumi (i swear that grey block with spikes from mario literally looks like "alpha sigma boss. you guys agree right?? prove azul wrong.)
img credits: @/magnolia29 on x!
a/n: i started this draft at like 12 an and procrastinated for god knows how long but yeah!! hope this is okay for what sleep deprived me wrote lmfao
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“you seriously still wear that thing?”
aventurine points at the wool scarfs you’re wearing, it hangs a bit loosely due to you not wrapping it around your neck enough.
“yeah, got a problem?” you tease, grinning as you look at him. “it’s the first thing i got from you when i was moved to this department.”
ah right. he remembers the day vividly. they said that a certain member has risen quite quickly in the past few months and will now be moved to his department: the strategic investment department.
on the first day of work, aventurine, like the thoughtful senior he is, came up to you and greeted you, offering you a tour around the building and introducing you to the staff and everyone who worked here. you agreed and followed him as he guided you around your new workplace.
the two of you got along quickly, exchanging laughters and telling each other jokes as the two of you were strolling around the building. he remembers gifting you an expensive scarf, one made out of the finest wool in the whole galaxy. you thanked him wholeheartedly and at that he couldn’t help but invite you out for a drink - like the mindful senior he is, of course.
drinking after work became a little habit for the two of you. sometimes the two of you were able to drag veritas or topaz along, but usually veritas denied the invitations, saying “he doesn’t want to mush up his brain due to the alcohol.” as for topaz she usually came along to look after the two of you, but today it seemed like there was an emergency regarding numby, which she had to rush to immediately. leaving you and aventurine alone.
which led you to your current situation, the two glasses of alcohol in front of aventurine are left untouched, everything that happens right now is done with a sober mind. he can’t put the alcohol to blame.
your hands are close, they're a mere 10 centimeters apart from his. it takes everything inside of him to not take your hand in his and smother it in kisses, but he refrains, he can't - he shouldn't even be thinking about something like this.
your soft lips lean forward to meet his, they're a mere 10 millimeters away from his. you continue to launch forward, he doesn't move away, he can't move - he's frozen. you assume he granted you permission to kiss him. your hand snakes towards his, loosely intertwining the tips of your fingers.
your lips ghost over his - the distance between the two of you is gone, it scares him. he fears he might not be able to return if he goes this way. 
aventurine can’t help but pull away from your tantalizing touch, it hurts him. but he’s scared.
he slips his fingers out of your grasp, lurching backwards, uncomfortably shifting on the big sofa and scooting back, to move away from you.
your eyes shoot open, clearly filled with confusion. your lips slightly part open and you tilt your head to the side, irritation is written all over your face.
"s-sorry." he apologizes quickly. "i don't think i'm made for this," he mutters. regret immediately overcoming him and you.
"ah, don't worry. i should be the one apologizing. i'm sorry. i shouldn't have just assumed your feelings. forgive me." you try to maintain a steady tone but your voice and expression betray you. your voice quivers - it breaks, it sounds like you're holding back tears that are about to spill at any given moment.
no, no , no this can't be. it's all his fault. he ruined everything once again, his gift was a mere misfortune, it only caused bad luck. 
your hand that was once connected with his slithered away from its previous position, this time you really were gone.
perhaps this is when aventurine realized that the both of you weren't just mere inches apart but the distance between the two of you went beyond planets and galaxies and thus could never be conquered.
the two of you were worlds apart.
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it’s been a few years ever since he’s seen you. (there hasn’t been a single day where he hasn’t thought about you.) apparently someone caught wind of what happened between you and aventurine, of course they reported it right away. Initially it was planned to fire you, for making a move on one of the ten stonehearts, especially as someone who stands below him. 
but aventurine convinced them not to do so, saying he’s also at fault and that they should just make you move departments, perhaps you’d learn from your mistakes. it was successful - he was beyond relieved. he didn’t show it, the only thing that was visible to them was a cunning smile. 
behind it, beneath the faux smile, he was clenching his teeth, biting the insides of his lips so hard that they began to bleed (he wishes that you were there to trace the outline of your lips over his once again, mending to his wounds - both, the one on his lips and the one in his heart.) his left hand was trembling behind his back as he awaited their judgment.
eventually you did get moved to another department and aventurine didn’t visit you, too caught up at work and business matters on other planets. 
(it’s a lie - he knows that himself, it’s just to avoid you. it’s for the better he thinks, better for the both of you to not meet. he fears that all the feelings he kept hidden inside his chest will return and turn his world upside down once again.)
one time he overheard some co-workers gossiping about “the person who got into mr. aventurines pants” getting sent onto a mission that’ll take several years. “what a pity that they won’t get to see him anymore.” a female voice giggles as the other voice hums in agreement and they walk away.
lies. all lies, it had to be. both that you “got into his pants” - hell it was a mere kiss that the two of you exchanged (not even a kiss because he shied away.) but it had to be a lie that you were sent away right? right? It’s just rumors, just some gossip that people need to pass their time, it can't be. 
of course, to his dismay, it had to be true. 
his luck was truly a misfortune.
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spring has come, the remaining snow melts away and turns into puddles. the skies started to clear up and flowers that were once covered in snowflakes, hidden beneath the white blanket of snow, started to open up again, blooming in their full glory. 
but there was another flower he spotted, one that stood out from the others - you. after all this time, he’s finally found you. 
this time he doesn't falter.
he runs up to you. pulling you into a tight embrace as he hugs you. his nose is buried into the wool scarf you’re wearing, he took notice that it’s the same one he gifted you back then. your scent mixed with his still lingers on it.
“aventurine?!!” you shout, surprised to see him again after all those years. 
“you kept it..” he whispers fondly. yuh? you’re confused, what is he talking about? “the scarf i mean.” he says without looking up, as if he knew what you were thinking without having to see what expression you wear or hear your voice and which sound you’ve uttered.
“of course, i did.” you say bitterly. “after all, it's the last and only thing i have left from you.” you whisper, a frown finds its way onto your face.
“no. that’s not true.” he protests, finally looking up. it's just like the last time he saw you, your eyebrow furrowed, your eyes telling him that you’re on the verge of crying - similar to when he rejected your advances. “you have me now.” the words barely above a whisper.
“oh aeons, dont, please. i beg of you.” aventurine is quick to put his gloved fingers on your eyes and rub them softly, collecting the tear drops that are about to run down your cheek. “you know i hate seeing you like this.” he whispers quietly as he removes his glove from his hand and rubs circles over your cold and reddened cheeks. 
“i missed you.” you hiccup in between your cries, aventurine continues to catch your tears, he won’t allow you to cry any more - especially because he’s the reason why you’re tearing up.
“pshh.” he tries to quiet you. “ive missed you too, probably more than you know.” as an attempt to reassure you.
“i’m here now, i’ll stay with you, i’ll follow you wherever you go.” he leans forward, this time he’s the one initiating the kiss and you gladly return it. his chapped lips meet yours, kissing you messily. there’s some biting and teeth clashing but he couldn’t care less, neither do you - after all this is what you’ve been waiting for.
there's no distance, no fronts, no walls to separate the two of you. he's never felt this kind of love - your love hasn't been held this lovingly for an eternity, this is the first time he actually feels human.
boundaries is a word foreign to the two of you, they've never been there - they never will be there because from the beginning on aventurines heart has only sought after you.
it used to terrify him, the way his heart always seemed to jump out of his rib cage upon you. the louder and faster the pumping got the closer you leaned in - just like back then.
but exactly because of that or rather because of you he discovered a new part of himself, diving into an ocean of emotions that were anchored to the bottom of the water, anticipating they'll be discovered and treasured in one's heart. those feelings were unknown to him until he met you.
"what should i say once we meet again?", "what should i do to prove that i'm ready now and don't fear to love or be loved anymore?", "how can i prove my love to you?"
those questions have haunted him in his restless nights, the ones that made him wake up from his deep slumber where he dreamt of you, forehead glistening with cold beads of sweat, gripping his bed sheets tightly. (all of his thoughts and dreams are filled with you.)
the beauty of this world has always been hidden beneath a window curtain, he was oblivious - blind, just how breathtaking the world can truly be.
but you came along, pulling the curtains away, revealing the outside world to him. you stepped into his life and shattered the glass that kept him confined behind the window.
you confessed your unyielding love for him. you love him - you've always done and you always will - you imagined a future which he was a part of. where the vibrant colors of the sun not only greeted you but also him as he laid next to you, side by side. watching as the rising sun kisses your skin with its tendrils of sunshine. 
(he'd follow the rays of sunshine and kiss the same spots they marked, he'd leave a trail of kisses along your body.)
how can he ever repay you for what you've done for him?
a mere thank you wouldn't suffice - not in a million years.
if you were to ask him if he'd give you the sun, the moon, the stars or the whole sky - he would.
if you were to ask him if he'd get on his knees for you - he would, no questions asked. be it when he prays to you, pleas leaving his lips and dripping off his tongue or when he'd kneel down on one of his knees to tie your shoes or propose to you - he would.
if you were to ask him if he'd stay by your side all night or rather all life long - he would. he'd be your light that'd guide you even though the flame went extinct, he'd be your flesh you'd nibble on, he'd be your blood you live off.
he wouldn't hesitate for a single moment, he'd give you everything you yearn and long for in a single heartbeat.
after all, that's the least he can do for you.
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@azullumi here extra paragraph again hhihihihuuh anyway when's the stoner!chuuya x stoner!reader fic like where??? also azul i love you a lot. you deserve the best - you deserve the world. i hope you get accepted into your dream uni, get everything you've worked hard for (u deserve it, you're a person full of determination) and yeah convince ur teacher to extend the deadline!!
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e/n: it's 4am rn im sooooo tired but yeah here!
© TOORURS 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms is not permitted.
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redflagshipwriter · 2 days
Text
Halfa Cass Chapter 5
“Well, she has survived,” DamiBat said blandly. He had clearly already showered and changed into casual clothes. His robin colors were neatly laid on the usual table. He had been waiting for her. Cass shut the plane door and swooped down to give him a hug.
“You worried,” Cass cooed. She ignored his struggling to get out of her arms. “Very sweet.” 
Damian hissed and tried a nerve strike. She kissed the top of his head and let him escape. 
“Black Bat, report,” demanded the Batdad. His hair was plastered to his head with sweat in the silly way it got inside the cowl. Worried. Fear. Nothing can happen to my baby, not my baby. 
She pranced over to give him a hug as well. He needed to touch her and know that she was real. 
Only when she detached did she consider answering him. “No,” Cass said thoughtfully. “Shower.” 
Batdad unhappily let her go. Cass took the time to get her thoughts into order. 
She did have to say something. 
She changed into comfy clothes and made her way to her computer. Damian had gone upstairs in the interim, and there was no sign of RedJason or Dickiebird. She sat and turned on the screen. Then she turned a stern glare on her family. 
Batdad and Timmybird looked away sheepishly, as if they hadn't meant to stare. 
Cass wrote up a factual report. Arrival time, important parts of conversation with Marvel, the area they had explored and his magical commentary. Then she got to the creepy laboratory. In the corner of her eye, she saw Timmybird tense. 
Cass sighed and spun her chair to face him. 
His shoulders went up guiltily. He meekly reached out and tapped a key. The secret spying of her computer screen ended. “Bad,” she said, because someone had to teach him manners. “Don't look at my screen.”
Tim hunched over a little more. Sorry. Sorry. (Will do it again.) 
Cass let out a heavy sigh and finished her report. She paused over her word choice a few times. 
“You entered an unknown machine, it powered on, and you received an electric shock?” Bruceman Batdad summarized before she had sent him the report.
Cass threw her hands up in disgust. “Stop spying!” She told him. “Stop it!” 
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry honey.” He was sorry. He'd do it again, too. 
Ugh. 
UGH.
“Yes,” black bat confirmed tersely. 
“No lingering symptoms from the shock?” Bruceman Batdad came closer. Hovered. Flap flap, worried bat. “We should do a full check.”
Cass hissed at him, fed up. 
“Master Bruce is correct,” said Alfie. He narrowed his eyes ever so slightly at her. Little Miss, listen now. Caution is the virtue.
She waited until he wasn't looking to roll her eyes. 
There was no sensible reason to escape. She sulked through the examination. 
“Heart rate is normal,” Alfie narrated for their audience. Cass narrowed her eyes. See? See what you've done? Wasted her time, is what you've done. 
“No pain?” Alfie poked and confirmed. Again and again. No, pain, no pain? Always no pain. “Well then,” he sounded very pleased. She blinked to full attention. “You must have done a very good job taking care of that rib, Miss Cassandra. I must admit I anticipated that there would still be soreness.” 
Cass was very still. Then she nodded. 
Uh. 
Um.
She thought about cartwheels. She thought about vaulting down a flight of stairs. 
Hm. 
…Probably her rib should not be totally healed. 
She weighed internally whether this was troubling to her. On the one hand, it seemed very odd. There was pain a few hours ago. Why no pain now? Pain usually left while she slept, not after flying a plane. Could healing be a side effect of magic girl transformation? Big, if true. Should probably tell her adults. 
On the other hand, no pain was objectively an improvement.
Cass decided to say nothing. Maybe Captain Marvel would have a theory. 
Speaking of. When she got back to her room, she sent him a text message. 
🪄 🧙🏻📞?
The answer came near instantly. 
Not yet! 😭 💔 She isn't answering me. Should I contact Constantine, you think?
Huh. Fast response, very good. Cass sent 
😬 
But 
🕵🏽‍♂️ 🤙🏽 🟰 👌🏽
Lol, wrote Captain Marvel. I know what u mean. 
Cass smacked her lips in the quiet of her room. He probably did. But he oughtn't. Old people had a hard time with her communication style. 
Idly, she lined up a theory. 
Captain Marvel had a magical girl transformation. Captain Marvel seemed too young for his body to her. 
Ergo:
He was baby. 
Cass, all of 17, wasn't that pressed about it. Bats and birds usually started flying and fighting as babies. Damian was still extremely baby. But. Hmm. 
Birds weren't in the Justice League. That was the difference: he had to hide it from Batdad, Superguy, and Wonder. 
Oh. Cass put a hand on her heart and frowned. In her dark room there was no one to see it aching in sympathy. 
Baby Captain was… was a little too baby, emotionally, for the Justice League. 
Well. It was decided, then. The next day at breakfast she announced, “Bruce. New rule.” 
Heads swiveled to look at her. 
“We are entitled to make rules for Father?” Damian asked Alfred, sotto voice. He looked intrigued. Alfie made a face that indicated his answer would depend on what rule Cass made.
Bruce lifted an eyebrow at her in prompt. 
“Stop bullying my Marvel,” she commanded. “He’s-” 
She hesitated and edited out the word “baby”.
“sensitive to hostility,” she settled on.
Bruce got a consternated look. “Sweetheart,” he began. 
“Yes,” Alfred said to Damian, voice extremely soft. “Upon occasion.”
“Play nice,” Cass said firmly. No arguments. She took a pointed bite out of her toast. No more need for words. Eat now.
Tim giggled. When Bruce looked at him he lifted his fork in front of his face, as if the slice of pancake was enough to hide that he was laughing at the pater familias.
“If he said that I'm bullying him,” Batdad started, sounding harassed, “then there must have been some misunderstanding. I've never intended-” 
“No misunderstanding,” Cass denied. She narrowed her eyes at him. “I see. I see his body get small when you use the stern Batdad bigman voice.” 
Bruce grumbled into his hand and turned his face away, defeated. Resentment. Insecurity. Do I really do that?
“Yes, Father,” chimed Damian, who loved to kick the defeated. “Surely this fool quakes at the barest hint of your displeasure. But should he not?” 
Alfred huffed a subtle little laugh at the manipulation. He squeezed Damian's shoulder.
Bruce, thinking that Damian approved of his coworkers fearing the Bat, looked even more constipated. Resignation. “I will be careful with my tone around him,” BatDad settled. Sullen. Embarrassed. Resigned.
“Thank you, Daddy,” Cass said cheerfully. She squeezed her eyes when she smiled at him, because she was also baby. He melted, vanilla ice cream in July.
Damian made a solemn nod of respect out of Bruce's line of sight. She winked back her thanks for the assistance. 
Marvel got back to her not long after. Cass took the call outside, so that Bats could not flap nearby without her noticing. 
“Black Bat!’ he said, excited. “I got Constantine!” 
She blinked at her phone. “...In a trap?” 
“What? No,” he dismissed. “I know where he's going to be this afternoon. Can you come meet me?” 
Cass looked back at the house. “...Yes,” she decided. She was off the patrol roster tonight anyway. “Where are we going?” 
“Uhh….” Marvel's voice trailed off for a bit as he clearly consulted his note or phone or something. “I'll send you the address.” 
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deadsetobsessions · 9 hours
Text
Okay I got some sleep- here’s pt. 2 of my nightmare:
——
They spoke to each other as they moved, the surroundings that had egregiously attacked the group of heroes earlier easily parted way for his sister.
‘How has everything been, habibi?’
They talked to each other in a language known only to them. The rest of the Justice League team, the members of this mission: Batman, Flash, Superman, and Zatanna did not understand the signs, a feat worthy of his sister.
‘Alright. They are not bad. I like it here.’ He told her, eyes not quite wary but fear of disappointing her running through his small frame apparent all the same. ‘I would… like to stay.’
She ruffled his hair once more, wistfulness growing in her heart. How her little brother had grown. It seemed like yesterday she held him as a babe, swaddled in even more opulent green and gold silks than her own clothing. Now, he stood in front of her, daring to express his own thoughts with a domino over his face and strength of free will in his eyes. ‘That is good. I am glad you are happy.’
Batman lurched forward to stop her from touching Damian, only to freeze as his son accepted the touch without a hint of resistance. Even Dick couldn’t get that reaction, not without some grumbling and scowling. Who was this…?
The rest of team agreed to wait and watch. Part of it was strategy. Most of it was the wonder of a such Bat-like Robin being so open with someone.
‘Have you been here before?’ Damian, relaxed as she all but gave him her blessing to stay with father, peered at the local fauna as it bowed away from her sister. She shrugged, his katana sheathed on her back. She was at ease with it as he was with her blade, the training they did to get there unwavering despite the time they spent apart.
‘Sometimes. The tower we’re headed to, I often go there to relieve stress by training with the monsters there. They like to… attack everything that moves.’
Something told Damian it was more of a one sided massacre on his sister’s part.
‘Why would the magician hide there?’
‘It would serve adequately as a natural barrier, should he have a safe space put there ahead of time.’ His sister tilted her head, masked face still in the way he knew meant that she was thinking. Her hands moved. ‘Perhaps it was Grorgiantue that attacked you. He often goes there to experiment with alchemy and demonic remains. He often wears a maroon headband.’
“That’s him.” Damian confirmed.
“Are you going to clue us into what you’re saying, you two?” The Flash zoomed around the pair, skidding to a stop in front of them. Damian’s sister simply stepped around him, slicing apart a thorn bush that attacked when it got startled by the Flash’s speed. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as Robin scowled at him and the unknown ally spared him one quick, neutral glance of displeasure.
“No. Do not ask again, you eavesdropper.” Damian curtly replied, surly Robin mask back up.
“Robin.” Father reprimanded. Damian acknowledged it, but did not offer an apology. His sister remained silent and watching.
She’s relying on him to navigate these allies, Damian realized. His shoulders went back at the show of trust. He does not acquiesce to Father’s silent command. Had it been Richard… perhaps.
“Ouch, but still, if your… friend knows what’s up ahead, it’s be good to let us know.”
“We do need to take care of this as fast as possible, Robin. And we’re not the best team against magic.” Superman hovered. He would have gone and scouted ahead, but magical planes always had nasty surprises that he found extremely hard to escape.
“Speak for yourself,” Zatanna joked. Regardless, she looked askance at Damian’s sister.
Damian scowled and opened his mouth. His sister placed a hand on his shoulder and Damian sighed, readying himself to act as a translator. He knew she could sign in practically every standard sign language there was, damn it. She’s lucky he loved her enough to be a translator when she’s unwilling to socialize.
——
“Your sword,” Damian tried to hand her sword back. Her little brother, for a genius, was an idiot. She huffed, pushing the sword back.
‘Keep it. How will you cut through a magical tower without a magical sword?’ She signed to him, emphasizing her amusement.
“What about you?”
‘I must report back. I am... a bit late. I’ll see you later, habibi.’ She tapped her hand four times. A reminder that she cared about him. Before she disappeared through a swirling portal of mist grey and acrid blue, she saw him repeat the sign.
Behind her mask, she smiled.
——
“Who was that, Robin?”
Robin stared up at Batman. Damian Wayne stared up at his father.
“She... protected me.”
Not quite an answer. But it was an olive branch, to tell him who she was to Damian himself, but not who she truly was in relations to Damian.
“That’s it?”
“That is all you’re getting.” He replied, hands tightening around the hilt of his sister’s sword. Her magic hummed beneath his fingertips, the feeling of indescribable violence softening to a sense of protectiveness the moment the sword felt his presence. Damian respected Father. He might even love him. But Damian loved his sister first, and he would not betray her trust.
A new file is added to the database. Nightwing gets an update. When a familiar masked face pops up, Dick Grayson sped out of Bludhaven to interrogate his littlest brother.
And so the wheels turned.
——
“Tell me, granddaughter, what it is you truly think of me.”
Despite the conversational tone, she knew it was an order. The scars on her back burned, a reminder of another rebellion and the cost of failure.
There were many, many ways she could answer. All of them unpleasant. Yet, she must be pleasant. He must hear how she’d been broken, or else he’d keep trying to break her.
She tilted her head down, so he would not glimpse the hatred brewing in her eyes.
“I respect you, grandfather.” Because she did respect his ability to bend her at his will, for all that she hated him. It took a special kind of scum to be so cruel to one own blood. “I wish to obey your every order.” Because if she didn’t, pain would follow. But that wish was a temporary one, only in effect until she managed to kill him and come out on top.
Ra’s laughed, a warm and rich sound. Hollow, because he loved none but himself and so only reserved warmth for his own flattery. It sounded like the sharpening of a blade and it felt like balancing on a precipice. On one side, an eternity of torture. On the other, the pain of those she loved. Damian... and maybe, just a little, Talia herself.
"Do you love me, granddaughter?" He crooned, mocking and cruel, in a way one might ask a jilted lover. The reincarnation held her breath and answered. She will not lie. She can not lie, not to him. He had gouged the order into her tongue with magic and brutality. And so, she will not lie.
"No, grandfather. But I do not dislike you." The reincarnation said, soft as velvet. It was true, because what she felt for Ra's al Ghul was the cold, pervasive hatred. "I respect you."
"I see I've managed to beat some of that foolish sentimentality out of you," he said, taking a sip of his wine. Oh, how she wished she could slip poison in his cup. How she wished to make him choke on his own words, his own blood. But she could not. Not. Yet. "Alas, I can not undo the magic. I suspect you'll be serving at my feet for... quite a long time more."
She snapped her mouth closed, phantom rage hovering between her teeth. The world swirled around her, greens and purples, and the revolting touch of his hands on her.
No, she will bide her time.
She knelt, the motion familiar, on plush carpet that she could not appreciate. Luxurious cloth rustled in front of her.
And when her time comes, she will revel in Ra's al Ghul's agonizing death.
——
"Damian, you have to tell me who that is!"
Damian could be stubborn at times, he knew that. He worked with him on it. Damian was as much, if not more, Dick's Robin as he was Bruce's Robin. So why...?
"And for what reason do you wish to know her identity, Richard?"
Dick paused. He couldn't. He couldn't tell him. No one knew, except for that masked person. It happened so long ago- not long enough- and Dick could not wash the taint, could not wash the trauma from his brain, his heart. Whispers that sounded like Catalina surrounded him when he thought of that rainy night, telling him how disgusted his family would be, if they knew. Those things went away, now that he's pulled up the file on the batcomputer. The whispers fade a bit as he looked upon the masked face of the person who saved him. Just in time.
"For your safety!"
Damian crossed his arms, a look that spoke of an unbending unwillingness present in his eyes. Dick knew then that Damian would not tell him. "I will never be in danger if it's her on the other side of the blade."
"Come on, Damian, I won't tell B. Promise. Don't you trust me?"
Damian's face softened, and for a second, Dick had thought that he'd managed it. "I do... trust you." Damian struggled to say. "That is hardly ever in question, you imbecile. But to tell you would mean betrayal. And I will not betray her trust. Especially not for your personal satisfaction."
Dick wondered what this masked woman did for Damian to be unhesitatingly confident in her. He wondered if his own desperation meant something he had yet been able to put into words.
"For what it's worth, Dick, I think we should trust Damian and not pry."
Dick and Damian turned to Tim in surprise. Damian, because it was an unexpected vote of confidence.
"Woah, I do not want to hear that from you, Mr. Tiny Tot Stalker McGee."
"It's called preparation!" Tim said hotly back. Then, he subsided. "She, uh, saved me once. Back then, before I was... associated with Bruce."
"What?" Dick and Damian demanded.
——
Innocuous. The worst and best things always happened on innocuous days.
The beginning of her slavery began on a regular, if painful, sunny day.
The beginning of her freedom began on a regular, if painful, cloudy one.
She'd have to thank the little photographer later, she decided. His work all but forced her grandfather to rely on a handful of backup Lazarus pools only he, mother, and herself knew about. She stared at the green pools as her grandfather stripped to his waist to step in.
"Guard me," he commanded her as he stepped towards the pool. The sting of the command settled familiarly around her neck. “Once I am done, you will depart to force Damian or the detective back to Nanda Parbat. By any means necessary.”
It was his first time ordering her to hurt her brothers, past physical pain disguised as training.
His first mistake today.
That's the thing with her grandfather, she mused as she silently unsheathed Damian's sword. He was so complacent, that he could fathom her betrayal.
His second mistake. His last mistake.
Then again, it was her who lulled him into it, with the shows of loyalty and seemingly willing obedience outside of her magical collar's commands.
After all, he had commanded her to guard him. From outside threats, surely, but he hadn't commanded her to guard him from herself.
"You-!" He coughed as her- Damian's- blade slid in between his ribs and straight towards the other side. It missed his heart by a hair's breadth, Ra's having moved the moment he felt the blade. Truly, it was hard to beat a near-immortal's experience.
"Kill yourself!" He barked at her, clutching at his chest, trying to stumble towards the pool.
To kill herself, she had to remove the blade lodged in his chest. The magic urged her to follow his commands immediately with searing pain. But she's had over two decades to endure and adjust to it, to grit her teeth and learn how to move with the torture of being alive. So she follows it just to dislodge the blade. The reincarnation then, with the magic trying to break her, cripples Ra’s with two blows.
He collapsed, screaming bloody murder and slurs at her. Before he could say another command, she stabbed down and to the side, cutting deep enough to cut his voice box and spill his life-blood, his unceasingly irritating throat, over the craggy rocks surrounding the pool.
Then, she slit her throat with a cut that was a touch too shallow to kill her right away.
"I do not dislike you," she said, the pain easing as she spoke to him. The red she's taken from others now spilled on the front of her shirt. She stared at his enraged glare, vicious glee at making him choke on his own actions. "No, I hate you."
She bent down, twisting and breaking his arms with little effort. She patted his cheeks and raked a trail of pain down his face with her metal tipped gloves. Her blood dripped onto him, blinding his eyes.
Fitting, she'd thought. "No one will come for you, grandfather. But... I do have to ask," She looked down, voice tilting in the cruel way that he'd unintentionally taught her. "Don't you love me, grandfather?"
She walked backwards until she reached the edge of the pool. She knelt once more, a mockery of every time she's knelt for him.
The reincarnation watched his blood spill, the light leave his eyes, and the way his body stilled and the way his rage was stifled like he'd smothered her voice so long ago. She memorized it, because hate was an active emotion. But she was tired, and she wanted to rest. So she watched him die and felt nothing but peace.
Then, as she felt the magic take hold and tear her soul from her body, she tipped backwards and plunged her corpse in the glowing pits that awaited her.
——
It felt like drowning.
(did y’all know cats lay on your chest?? bro i straight up couldn’t breath bc of that)
Breathless. Corrosive. Freeing.
The Pit felt like freedom.
And she’d long forgotten what that felt like.
It tasted like shit water though, and suddenly she felt bad for everyone whoever swallowed some of the water here. She’s going to need her stomach pumped out after this-
Her thoughts were washed away in a haze of green tinted fury.
——
“Habibi.”
Nightwing slid in front of Robin with a well practiced flip. Batman emerged from the shadows, followed Spoiler and Red Robin.
“Talia. What do you want?” Batman growled. Talia ignored him, an uncharacteristic action that had the vigilantes putting their guards up.
“I… you know I would not ask this of you- I would not ask you to return,” Talia said softly.
“Then don’t.” Red Robin cut in sharply, bo staff at the ready. Talia ignored him too.
“But she needs you, habibi. I can not… I can not help her.”
“Who?” Spoiler asked, curious but ready to rumble.
“What happened?” Robin stepped around Nightwing, who made an aborted movement to try to pull Robin back behind him.
“Something terrible.” Talia al Ghul closed her eyes, a sliver of vulnerability and regret showing on her face. Robin straightened, fear thudding through his heart. What happened to ukhti, he wanted to ask. But he could not, not without betraying the promise of silence he’d made to her. “I… I have failed her greatly. And she was paying the price for it, this entire time.”
“Wait, is this about the masked woman?” Nightwing asked.
“Alright,” Robin- no, Damian- stepped forward once more. His decision was made. Had been made, the moment his mother allowed the rare instance of vulnerability to come across her face. “I’ll be going back, once…”
“Of course. She would not let me keep you, habibi. She knows you are happier here.”
“Then, let’s go.”
“Robin!” His family tried to stop him but Damian slipped between and out of their reach. “Do not!”
“I’ll be back,” he declared, like he was daring his mother to say otherwise. “Try not to raze Gotham into the ground with your incompetence.”
“I’ll kill Ra’s if something happens to him.” Red Robin pointed the bo staff at Talia as she and Damian turned to leave. He stopped an alarmed Batman when he tried to lunge for Robin.
“No need,” she threw back. Damian whipped his head up at that. “He’s already dead.”
And they disappeared into a whirling purple cloud of magic.
——
Snippets of reality return to her bit, by bit. Her mother had cautiously entered the pit with her guards- worried, no doubt, by their absence- and stilled upon seeing her father’s dead body.
She laughed, and dug her hands into the bodies of the assassins she’d trained until her nails dripped with blood and pieces of organs. She felled them, one by one, until only mother was left.
She’d attacked, like a rabid dog, until the green slipped and her mother came into focus.
“I killed him,” she’d croaked out. And that was what broke her; the smooth way air wrapped her around her throat where only ripping pain had existed. Her voice came out unhindered and recklessly so, without the tinge of agony carefully picking her sentences.
“I killed him,” she repeated, and set Ra’s al Ghul’s body on fire. “I killed him.”
Her mother stared at her, hands dropping carefully to her side. “Why?”
She smiled, teeth bared and bloody- oh, she must have ripped into an assassin with her teeth, how messy- and endlessly joyful. “Because he dared to chain me- because he threatened Damian.”
She broke, and she told her mother everything. No, not everything. Just, enough. At the end, when her back is bowed with pain and heart empty, her mother knelt before her and quietly, tremblingly, apologized.
“I am sorry, habibi. I…”
The reincarnation’s made a small, wounded noise and lost herself to the green.
——
Damian trembled with rage. With grief.
With regret.
He followed mother into the caverns, mind turning and whirling with everything he’d learned in the hour that had passed since he’d left Gotham. His sister’s inclination towards magic was incredibly helpful, but Damian wished that she had never had the cause to go delving into magic like she did.
He thought it was passion.
His mother had informed him of what Grandfather had done to his ukht all these years. She told him of what his sister had sacrificed so that he remained free.
“Every time she spoke to us, to tell us that she loves us… father had made sure she paid for every word with unceasing agony.” His mother had muttered, eyes more lost than he’d ever seen it. “The magic at her neck ensured that she obeyed unquestioningly or she paid the price.”
“She is paying the price right now,” he’d snapped at her.
“Yes.”
Damian had thought ukhti’s collection of magical tomes were a sign of her interests. He thought it was passion for a subject. He had even envied how she did not have to hide her hobby like he had to with his art.
Now, he knew it wasn’t passion. No, it was desperation; a scrambling for freedom, a wish for dignity, and the fear of the same restrictions being placed on his ukht’s loved ones- him and mother.
When he entered the cave, lit up by swirling, sickly green, he saw his ukht, drenched in blood and sclera, tearing apart another group of assassins. There were ashes and the smell of burnt flesh around them.
Her eyes- green, glazed, furious- turned towards them.
His mother tensed. His ukht lunged, pitted sword aimed at his eyeball.
But if there was anything Damian knew, it was that ukhti would never hurt him.
So he stayed still.
And she stopped. Blade a centimeter from his eyes, his sister stopped.
“Damian?”
How his heart broke when she spoke, confusion in her voice that sounded as if she had been screaming for decades and nobody had heard.
As Damian’s hand wrapped around her wrist and she dropped the sword, he morbidly thought that she might have been doing that. It’s not like they heard her, after all, not until she’d freed herself with broken fingers and steel spine.
——
Bruce paced around in the cave. With the disappearance of their youngest, the entire family gathered in the cave, the night after. Except for Barbara, who had been scouring the cameras and had prior engagements, and Cass, who was on a plane back from Hong Kong, the family watched as Bruce slowly lost his mind.
“Relax, B. Look, even Dickface and Timbers aren’t worried, and you know how they get.” Jason said, kicking his feet up on the table.
“Ahem.”
Jason quickly put his feet down.
“We know nothing about this woman! She could be a danger- she could-!”
“B, if it really is about the masked woman, I think we should give Damian some trust.” Dick spoke up.
“And what if they keep Damian captive?”
“Then we go get him, Bruce. Simple.” Duke said, yawning.
Whatever Bruce would have said next was cut off by the opening of the cave’s underground entrance, with an approving beep of a recognized and authorized entrance.
Damian stalked in, hands wrapping around the hilt of his sword like he was going to cut through the next fool who tested him. His face was in a frown.
“Damian. Are you alright?” Bruce rushed towards his youngest, only to be dodged.
“I need to break something. Then, we shall talk.”
Damian headed towards the training dummies at let out his fury. He let out his heart break. Splinters of wood and cloth and ripped padding laid testament to his grief.
Then, the younger brother of the true heir to the Demon’s Head turned around to speak to his chosen family.
——
Clarity.
Her brother, her fool, dumb brother who had just stood there as she tried to gouge his eyes out, had been exactly what she needed.
She avoided his concerned eyes as she muttered calculations under her breath.
“Ukhti, what are you doing?”
“Freedom, habibi. I am… creating my freedom.”
At his confused look, she made the signs for Pit Rage. He nodded and guarded her back.
Damian was so adorable. And now, now that there’s not collar around her neck, she could say that without awaiting internal agony!
Her mouth spoke the words she’d found all those years ago, magic flaring bright white and blue as the circle she laid down on crumbling rocks shuddered.
The magic soothed her frayed mind and seeped the poison from her mind.
——
“I have a sister.” He’d told them. He turned to his father, who had a blank look on his face. “An older sister. She is yours.”
“You fucked Talia, twice?!”
A scowl. “Keep your trap shut, Todd.”
Bruce felt his world shudder to a stop.
——
Her fingers, her left hand as her right was busy scratching absently at Damian’s head, found purchase on her back and neck. The skin wasn’t so soft anymore, time and scars making for a rougher feel.
There were worse things than death. Bitter, painful things.
Loosing her freedom. Loosing her voice.
But… there were better things than life. Sweet, gentle things.
Regaining her freedom. Getting revenge. Securing her family’s safety and freedom from the grotesque thing that wore the skin of a grandfather.
Her brother, tucked safely against her side, and a mother that finally understood.
“Come to Gotham with me,” Damian had suggested. She hummed, delighting in the way the sound came out with out the ringing pain.
But one does not erase two plus decades worth of trauma in one night.
Her hands came up.
‘Not yet. Mother will think-”
“It is a good idea.”
Her gaze darted up. Her mother’s eyes… softened. Odd. No… her gaze was heavy with guilt.
“It would… do you good to be away from here, my daughter.”
Well.
It’s not like she was opposed to that, at all, but still…
‘Two weeks. I’ll tie up loose ends… and I’ll go to Gotham in two weeks, if that’s alright with you, Damian?’
“Of course.” He leaned against her, hand clutching at her shirt in a motion that she wasn’t sure was meant to comfort himself or her. “May I tell father about you?”
Ah. She hadn’t thought of that. The pit really scattered her mind. She nodded.
——
“Why… why didn’t you tell me?”
“She asked me not to.”
“And since when did you do things people ask of you, demon brat?”
Damian scowled. It did not make his next sentence any less genuine.
“Since it was ukhti that asked.”
Tim spun around on his wheel chair. “Holy shit. So the masked person was your sister. No wonder you were so….”
Protective, they all finished the rest of the sentence silently. They all sat back to contemplate that Bruce had one more kid… and that Tim had met her before Damian was even born.
“So, why were you so upset, baby bird?” Dick asked, an odd feeling of both gratefulness and mild jealousy towards Damian’s sister- his savior, because holy shit- gathering underneath his heart.
“Apparently, grandfather put her under an enslavement spell all these years.”
“Damian… say that again. I- I must have heard you wrong.”
Damian closed his eyes, hating how unsteady and fearful his father sounded. He obliged, because he knew what it felt like.
“Grandfather put her under an enslavement spell and used her to further the League’s reach.”
Damian had wondered why he had encountered his sister so often while passing by grandfather’s chambers and why she always looked tired when she goes past those ornate doors.
Now he knew.
“Does that- does that mean what I think it means?”
“Yes. She,” Damian’s hands gripped harshly on his forearms. He breathed in and out slowly. “She was… assaulted. Most likely regularly. To broker more favorable agreements. She could not refuse. The magic demanded complete obedience or risk the punishment of unbearable pain.”
Dick looked away. They had a lot in common. She saved him… but on her end, she was not saved. His hands itched to punch Ra’s al Ghul in the face.
“Fuck.” Stephanie cursed. Her eyes met Duke’s and Jason’s.
Tim’s hands stopped moving, eyes staring blankly at Damian. He should have tried harder to kill Ra’s al Ghul.
Bruce got up, trembling, and stalked over to the training dummy. They sat in silence.
“What else?” Bruce rasped. He hung his head.
“She was ordered not to speak a word.”
“But she… spoke to me.” Tim said. Damian felt an irrational flare of jealousy.
“Then it most likely caused her unimaginable pain as punishment.” Damian snapped.
“What do we have to do to free her?” Stephanie demanded.
“Nothing, Brown. She freed herself.”
“How?” Duke leaned in, expression serious. “Did Ra’s al Ghul free her before he died or something?”
“I… am not too sure of the details, but it involved killing him… and jumping into the pit.”
Jason stood up with a clatter. “She was in the pit?!
“Yes. I think… she might have died. I’m not… sure.”
Bruce closed his eyes, working on his breathing like Dinah had showed him.
“Is that why Talia came? Because you could stop her pit madness?”
“Yes. I- there-” Damian struggled to get the words out, the ball of upset sitting on his chest made it hard to breathe. “Ukhti would never hurt me. Unless it’s training, but even then, I am sure she fought against her orders to wound me.”
Dick nodded. Yeah. He would have too, if he were in her shoes.
“I… can ukhti come here to recover?”
“Of course. When?” It was at times like this when he appreciated his family’s sentimentality and ridiculously large hearts. Unhesitatingly kind, even when they should have been furious at him for keeping ukhti’s secrets.
“Two weeks.”
“Then we shall make adequate- no, better than adequate preparations. Master Damian, what were her preferences for food?”
——
She should probably prepare a gift. Multiple.
“Ukht.”
She tilted her head to show Damian she was listening.
“I am sorry.”
‘There’s nothing to be sorry for.’
“But-”
She squeezed his shoulder and forced the words to come out. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I should have noticed.”
‘I did not want you to notice. If I hid things from you, do you think you could find them so easily?’
“No, I suppose not.”
She smiled at him and tapped her hand four times. He tapped his own four times in response.
——
The dream ended there, well, no, there was actually some more nonsense about a corgi, a room full of strings and slenderman or whatever but I didn’t include that part. There’ll probably be a part three bc I kinda wanna know what happens when she comes to Gotham to recover from trauma.
The oc, relatively well adjusted: *dies*
The oc, reincarnated and got fucked over (figuratively and non consensually literally): “yes, I should go to Gotham (aka trauma central) to recover from my trauma. Sounds legit.”
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Alrighty! @number-one-shadisper-shipper and I binged the Knuckles series today, so time for thoughts! SPOILER ALERT.
I'll admit the show wasn't perfect. I've seen the negative reviews, and I kinda get where they come from. BUT! I did enjoy this show greatly! And I'm not here to complain. Time for some happy thoughts, y'all! 💙🤩
I think you need to have a love, not just tolerance, for the SCU in order to properly enjoy this show. I do have such, so I had a lot of fun with it.
There were definitely scenes from every episode that had me either squealing, laughing, crying, or flipping out. But my favorite was likely the first episode, because come on, we saw the Wachowski family! Most of them, anyway! While I missed Tom's presence, I was grateful for that comment from Maddie about him being "out of town," so he wasn't just gone for no reason.
The SECOND it showed our three space babies hanging out together in their room?! I SCREAMED. THE BOYS!!!!
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Tails sitting on his bed tinkering with one of his gizmos, Sonic rocking out to music with an air guitar, and Knuckles exercising from one of the ceiling planks. IT'S THEM!!! They're just hanging out, doing their thing, looking oh so much like brothers. And Sonic's narration at the beginning was GOLD. 🤣💙
Even though we didn't get enough of Maddie being a parent, we definitely got a nice chunk for it only lasting part of an episode. Maddie called Knuckles "one of our kids" (that had me SCREECHING). The angry mama vibes were GOLDEN. 🤣 The way she made breakfast for them, the "Boys, breakfast is ready!" I love the normalcy of it! Can't wait to see more in the future! (Her calling to them with "boys" is somehow just the sweetest thing and I'm melting.)
The poor mailman being like "I just wanna go home, man" 🤣
We were right, fellas, Knuckles had no idea what being grounded meant. 🤣 Although the way Sonic piped up with "Oh, I definitely know what it means," has me suspecting that Sonic himself has gotten grounded a decent amount before. 😂
Knuckles trying to talk back, and Maddie going, "ExCUSE ME?!" then just making those tiny, terrifying noises and Sonic being like "Bro don't mess with Mom when she's mad" (okay, he didn't say "mom" and that made me sad, but the mom vibes were 110% there so I'm here for it). 😂 And since Knuckles snuck out and later Wade said, several times, "Aren't you grounded?" seems to confirm that this entire show is basically what Knuckles does when he's grounded. 🤣 Although ... his comment about not being able to be grounded because he had no home made me very sad. 😭
I did not have an issue with so much Wade screentime! Sure, he isn't my favorite SCU character, but I love what this show did with him! I'd already seen his moments in the movies (like nearly shooting Robotnik in the face with an actual handgun). I like how they gave him actual family issues; a dad who abandoned him and his family, a realistic sister, a mom. Bad family memories. Awkward reunions. They could've made it a joke, but they didn't, and I greatly appreciate that. Especially since I've witnessed firsthand how painful family separations can be. 😔
All the emotional talks Wade and Knuckles had caught me off guard in the best way! The way they talked about their different family issues, the way they talked of betrayal from friends, and being left alone, hit way harder than I was prepared for. Especially that talk they had at the burger place in the middle of the night? Oof. Good talk right there.
Also, even though they took a "show don't tell" take with it, I loved how Knuckles relaxed more and more throughout the show. In the beginning, he couldn't rest, he couldn't sit back and have a genuine good time. But the more he hung out with Wade and his family, the more he learned. He learned about music and found "his jam" (that was literally amazing btw). He watched movies with Mrs. Whipple and ate snacks in the hotel room in Reno and watched more movies. He had his teenager moments of rolling his eyes and rebelling, but he was so well portrayed here, I loved it. I felt for him.
Despite the bizarre nature of the episode "Flames of Disaster," (we were cracking up so hard) I'm trying to glean bits of the truth of Knuckles's story from the crazy musical play that Pachacamac put on in Wade's dream. I mean, "Longclaw" and her tribe were there, and ... what the heck was that giant demon thing?! Iblis?! Does our Knuckles Wachowski have an actual history with freaking Iblis?!?! 😱🔥
I was deeply intrigued by the two main antagonists, especially at the implication that G.U.N. did seem to exist before the events of the first movie?! Did it exist, get disbanded after the Maria incident, then get reformed?! My brain is exploding. 🤯 I was even more shocked that they apparently died? I guess I shouldn't be surprised, the Wachowski kids don't seem to have much qualms about getting rid of the baddies for good as the game versions do. That was a terrifying phenomenon, what happened with the two rings. 🫣
And then the Buyer getting crushed by the giant glass ball 👀
Although in those last two episodes, I admit I was freaking out and legitimately near tears at Wade's seemingly having to "betray" Knuckles. Before the reveal that all was in good communication, all I could think was how relaxed Knuckles finally seemed, chilling in the hotel room, being excited about whatever Wade wanted to "show" him, questioning whether it was a song, him declaring that he was going to bring his favorite hat, 🥹 all I could think was of their previous discussions about betrayal from friends and family, and when Knuckles called Wade "my friend" right before the elevator doors closed, I just about sobbed. I was like "please, don't let him be betrayed, don't let him have come all this way and relaxed so much only to get 'betrayed' once again by someone he's come to consider a friend." 😭 We heaved a HUGE sigh of relief when it revealed he was aware of the trap the whole time. 😪
Maternal instincts went nuts when he got so badly hurt in that final battle 😭 I literally reached for the screen several times and was right back to almost weeping 🥲 And someone tell me I wasn't the only one noticing the parallel in that scene with Wade standing in front of his unconscious body the way Tom did with Sonic in the first movie. That, PLUS Knuckles's epic comeback, and his retrieval of his own power?!?! EPIC!!!!
The ending was abrupt, sure, but the pure joy on Knuckles's face after everything as he jumped up to high five Wade was just too sweet. 🥹
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So yes, even though I would have loved just a little more, a return to Green Hills, a reunion with Maddie, Sonic, and Tails, I adored this show. It was a wild ride, full of laughs, tears, excited screeching, etc. 💙💛❤️ I don't care what anyone says, nothing will make me hate it.
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Sanji- A Moment Alone @ the Whole Cake Chateau
Now I’ll be honest, I haven’t read much Sanji as he’s not one of my mains. However, Whole Cake inspired me to give writing him a go. Thoughts are welcome.
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, NSFW, Spoilers for Zou/Whole Cake, vaginal sex, blowjob, deep throating, pet names, fingering, oral female/male, female riding, breeding, one night stand, I don’t own these characters. A bit fluffy at times.
Summary: Sanji leaves the crew to go to Whole Cake Island, due to a scheme cooked up by Big Mom and his dad. You realize when he’s gone, you may have feelings for him and decide to go after him with the help of Luffy and your crewmates. Once you find Sanji, well, he can’t leave, but you get one night together…
Sanji-Whole Cake
You’d never thought much about Sanji and his advances before, that was until he was gone. When he left Zou suddenly, and to get married of all things, something clicked inside you. Sanji was your friend, but maybe you felt more for him than just friendship?
You’d been with the Strawhats for a while now. Decent fighter, devil fruit ability, and always willing to help with the cooking and cleaning on the ship. Your upbringing was rocky and you thought there was no beauty left in the world. That was until the Strawhats saved you and told you about their adventures. That’s when you realized your dream, to find the beauty in the world from end to end and document it.
Sanji and you were close. You realized preparing food for a crew with a big eater like Luffy, was no easy feet, so you started offering your assistance early on. Though, he rarely took it, as he would rather a pretty lady like you, sit and relax, so he could serve you. However, after much insisting and some teasing that resulted in nose bleeds threatening to ruin his food, he eventually came around.
When he left you were speechless. You just thought he was off in the kitchen again, insisting on no one helping him. Then, a day went by and there was no swooning at your feet or the smell of his cigarettes on the breeze. You missed the way he’d put his arms around you to help teach you to chop things properly. You missed how he’d drop everything to help you or any female if they were in any sort of trouble. You missed how he puffed on his cigarettes in the heat of battle. You missed his advice and his fights with Zoro. Most of all, you missed staying up late and looking at the stars with him. On those nights, you’d discuss what you thought would be at the end of the line, the end of the new world, laughtale. You’d talk about your pasts and your hopes for the future. You never thought your future would be without Sanji. You didn’t know in what capacity, but you knew he’d always be there.
He said he’d be back, he smiled when he said it, but something didn’t feel right. Something in your heart ached. Something funny or sad would happen and he was the first person you’d want to tell, but he was gone. How’d you let him go?
You sat alone outside staring up through the forest at the stars. Nami came out and found you. She sat next to you before you realized she was there. You glanced at her and gave her a half smile.
“Y/N, what’s wrong? You haven’t been yourself since Sanji left.” Nami asked.
You glance at her then look back at the stars and sigh. You stare forward blankly a moment and before you can speak she opens her mouth again.
“We all miss him, Y/N, but he will be back. Luffy won’t let him go.”
“Yeah.” You say softly. “And this time I won’t let him go... Nami, I think…”
“You have feelings for Sanji? Yeah we all already know, took you long enough to realize.”
You gasp and stare at her in despair.
“What? Does he..?”
“He has no idea, but the man is head over heels for you. As soon as Luffy gets here… let’s go get him.” She says looking at you with a large smile.
When Luffy got to Zou and found you all, he agreed he needed to go after him. You were the first person to say you were tagging along. After a few days on Zou helping the minks and making plans, you head to Whole Cake Island in the hopes of bringing Sanji home to the Sunny. Once on Whole Cake island you, Luffy, Nami, Chopper, and Carrot got lost in the seducing woods. Big Moms daughter, Brûlée, managed to trap you in her Mirror World with Chopper and Carrot. While Luffy and Nami set off to find Sanji. Later using a shard of mirror you find a chance to contact Luffy and Nami for an update on their progress. While you were trapped in the mirror world you learn they had found Sanji, and he had beaten Luffy in a fight. He ultimately, refused to come back. You couldn’t believe your ears at the news. That wasn’t the Sanji you knew.
Luffy’s new plan was to wait for Sanji to come to him. You, Carrot, and Chopper continued to work on finding a way out of the mirror world, so you could reconnect with him and Nami.
In a moment of selfishness as your thoughts went only to Sanji, you make a plan to escape alone from the Mirrorworld. You had seen a reflection of Sanji in a nearby mirror and decided to use Brûlée to get back to the real world, through that same Mirror. While tied up, you managed to trip one of her guards causing them to tumble and almost knock over her stew pot. While Brulee was yelling at them for this, you managed to inch your way up to grab something sharp to cut through your rope bonds from a nearby counter. Once freed, you waited for Brûlée to head towards the mirror where you had earlier seen Sanji’s reflection. You looked at Chopper and Carrot and threw the sharp object behind your back for them to begin working on their ties. You inched closer to them.
“I’m going to go find Sanji. Can you two find Luffy and Nami?” You whisper.
“You want to split up? Why don’t we go together?” Chopper whispered urgently.
“If Luffy couldn’t get through to Sanji, I’m the only one who still has a chance. You and Carrot get out of here. Besides, if Big Mom’s family is as big as they say, I’m better off going in alone, less likely to be detected. I’ll take a piece of mirror for updates. Good luck.” You say softly as you eye Brûlée walking towards the mirror you need.
The rabit and train man suddenly turn their backs to you, distracted by the smell of the stew. You hop to your feet and run towards the mirror where Sanji’s reflection used to be. She screams as you grab her wrist and pull her towards the mirror with you. You cross through the mirror, and as you exit, you drop her wrist. Once out of the mirror, you turn around and watch as she stares at you, stunned. The creatures working with her begin to run towards the mirror. As they do so, you grab the mirror from the wall and smash it on the ground.
“Well that may have been a bit loud.” You whisper to yourself.
You turn about the room and notice you’re in a bedroom. No one was inside. Inside the room there was a dresser, a bed, a small table, a few chairs, a kitchenette, and a now shattered mirror. It must be where they were keeping Sanji in the Whole Cake Chateau, you thought.
You find a nearby door of a closet and jumped inside. You wait a few minutes, but no one enters after the crash of the mirror. You exit the closet and re-examine the room.
You weren’t sure where Sanji was or when he would come back. You decided your best bet was to hide behind where the door swung open, just in case an enemy entered. About 30 minutes later Sanji entered the room, alone. Upon entering the room he stared at the storm brewing out the window by his bed. You let the guards that escorted Sanji to his room exit and shut the door fully before you acted.
“Sanji.” You whispered.
He gasped nearly dropping his cigarette as you called to him. He turned around and there you were. You were wearing a short sleeved white ruffled dress, the top of which, emphasized your breasts and showed some cleavage. The bottom of the dress cut just below your ass and had a pink apron over it. It was a bit tattered after your fights in the seducing woods and in the mirror world.
You stepped forward towards Sanji and his body tensed. You continued towards him and buried your face in his chest. You gripped at his shirt and began to sob. He immediately clamped back down on his cigarette and wrapped his arms around you. He pulled you in for a deep embrace and paused to smell your hair. His breath caught in his throat as he pulled you arms length away from him. He stared down at you in disbelief, but you weren’t ready to look at him.
“Y/N. What are you doing here? I told Luffy I wasn’t coming back.”
You finally looked away from his chest and stared up at him with tear filled eyes.
“Sanji. I won’t let you go. I… I need you.”
“Wha..” He stuttered out.
As he did so, his cigarette hit the ground below him. Sanji quickly realized this and stamped it out before the carpet got set alight. He never let go of your waist as he did so. Once that situation was handled his gaze returned to you. Your eyes glistened with tears and you took a deep breath.
“I didn’t believe Luffy. I had to hear you say it yourself.” You said as you move your hands to his arms.
He stared at you a moment with his teeth clenched. He looked down at the floor where his cigarette laid, burnt out.
“Y/N. Im sorry I lied to you all about who I was. I’m sorry you came all this way for me, but I’m marrying Pudding tomorrow. She wants to marry me and I think I’ll be happy with her. There is nothing Luffy or… you… can do to stop me”
Your hands dropped down from his upper arms to rest on his forearms and your head falls.
“Even if I told you..”
Sanji’s body tensed against your hands. He stared down at you intently.
“Even if I told you I loved you.” You reply as you stared intently at his chest, taking a moment to get the words out before you glanced up at him.
He grunted in surprise and stared at you blankly. He then closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“Y/N. I love you too…”
He looked down at you and you raised your head to look up at him. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and smiled.
“You’re incredible Y/N-swan and you’re unbelievably beautiful… but…” He said as he closed his eyes and sighed again. “Hours ago I would’ve done anything to hear those words… but now… I can’t… I can’t leave. I have to see this through.”
“Why?” You said as you griped his shirt sleeves tighter.
“For your safety!” He said as he pulled you tighter to him.
“I can protect myself!”
“Not against this… you, Luffy, Nami, Zeff, everyone. None of you are safe. My staying keeps you safe.”
“I don’t care. We are strong, we don’t need you to save us!” You yell as you looked deeper into his eyes.
“You’re strong, but not enough for this…. Y/N you have to go.” He said as he pulled you into a tight embrace.
He planted a kiss on your forehead and held you tight against his chest a moment. You wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him back.
“If you really love me, you’ll let me go. You’ll help Luffy become King of the Pirates and make sure he and the crew stay fed.”
You nod your head against his chest. You squeezed him tight one more time, then pulled back. You placed your hands on his chest and lifted your head to look him in the eye one last time.
“Sa…Sanji… if this is really it. Then…”
He looked at you, and softly smiled. He caressed your check a moment and slipped his fingers under your chin. He tilted your chin up and kissed you. His lips were soft and tasted of cigarettes and vanilla. He was gentle at first, but his passion quickly grew as both of remembered this would be your first and only kiss.
You moved your hands behind his neck and curled your fingers in his hair, pulling him deeper into you. His tongue began to stroke your lips and you opened wider, allowing your tongues to dance together. Next, You pulled a hand from his hair and began to slide it down his chest, pausing at his peck to push him away from you. You looked down at where you and his feet meet and slowly trailed your eyes up his body to meet his gaze. You stared at each other in silence a moment before you began to speak.
“Sanji… just once… I need you.”
Your gaze darted to his lips, then back to his eyes. A small drop of blood came out of his nose as he stared at you, wide eyed. You chuckled and step away from him to grab a tissue off the table. You returned and wiped his nose, setting it on the table beside you. Once you had, Sanji grabbed you by your wrist and pulled you back into his chest, placing his lips back against yours.
He kissed you more intensely than the first time. You began unbuttoning the buttons on his dress shirt as he started kissing and biting down your neck. Once his shirt was unbuttoned, you began licking and kissing down his chest and abdomen. At the same time, your hands slowly traced their way down his abs to the hardened bulge forming in his pants. His head fell back and he moaned as you clawed at the fabric of his pants.
“No princess, I should take care of you.” He said as he reached down to pull your lips back up to his.
You shook him off and began unzipping and unbuttoning his pants. You paused during this, to kiss and lick right above his waistband before you tugged his pants down. You watched as his erect length flopped out and slapped your chest. His pants fell to his feet and you looked up at him with a smile.
“And I want you to drip down my throat first.” You say with an eyebrow raise as Sanji swooned.
You dropped to your knees in front of him and his erect length. As you did he pulled his shirt off his shoulders and looked down at you with a loving smile.
You gently placed your hands on his knees and kissed up his legs to his length, slowly moving your hands up as you went. You leaned back and wrapped your hands around his length. One hand wasn’t enough to hold it all. You raise your eyebrows with a smirk and look at him when you realize this, placing a second hand around him. He grunted as you began to lick his pink tip with your tongue. You moved one of your hands to play with his balls while you teased his tip a few times. He began to moan and claw at your hair and neck. You smiled against him, then moved your hand from his balls back to his length.
You dropped your tongue back into your mouth and allowed your lips to spread wider. You gently pushed your mouth forward allowing your lips to swallow his length. He moaned as it slide fully into your mouth. You began bobbing your head against his length, gradually taking more and more in your mouth with each entrance.
Sanji couldn’t take it anymore, his hand moved to grip the back of your head and his hips began to undulate against your face. You smiled against his hard member and shifted your hands to his ass. You moaned as took control the pace and amount being shoved down your throat.
“Taking me beautifully, Princess. Going to cum..”
You smiled and tried to nod, but his pace was too quick. Your eyes started to water. You felt his length begin to twitch as he slammed his member against the back of your throat. You moaned as he repeated this once more. His seed shot down the back of your throat and he began to pant. He pulled his cock from between your lips and you swallowed. You stick out your tongue and showed him it was clean.
“Fuck, Y/N. You’ve never been as beautiful as when you were just taking me. You’re a goddess.” He replied looking at you as you got back to your feet.
You smiled, then turn your back to him and pointed to your zipper. His eyes widened as he reached for it. He unzipped it slowly, taking the time to kiss down your shoulders and back as unzipped. He pushed the sleeves off your shoulders and let the dress fall to the floor in front of you. He embraced you from behind and began playing with your breasts. He squeezed at your hard buds with one hand and trailed his other down to your underwear. He carefully pushed your panties to the side and started feeling between your slick folds.
“This wet for me already, princess? What’s daddy to do?” He asked as he continued rubbing your folds and squeezing at your nipples.
You moaned and pushed your back and ass harder against his chest and exposed member. He stopped playing with you a moment to push down your underwear. You take that moment to turn around and let him see you from the front. He gulped hard and clearly stopped breathing as he stared.
“Well daddy, do you like what you see?”
Sanji’s eyes went wide and his nose began to bleed again. His arms dropped from your waist and he fumbled to reach for a tissue to clean his nose up. As he did, you sensually sauntered over to the bed and laid back, spreading your legs wide.
“You got one night Sanji.” You said as you flip your hair and sat up on your elbows. “Come show me cooks know how to eat too.” You said with a devilish smirk.
Sanji drooled as he ran towards you and jumped on the bed. He paused in front of your core and stared at it a few moments with delight. He then began to kiss up your thighs towards your core. Once at your core he looked up at you and smiled.
“You’re beautiful, my love. Daddy can’t wait to show you how a goddess deserves to be treated.”
He kissed and licked your Clit. As he did, you laid your head back on the pillows behind you and reached for the bed beneath you. He moved his tongue down to lick at your entrance. Your feet lifted and dropped against the bed at the anticipation of his tongue entering you.
“Sanji.” You called with a desperate moan as your right hand ruffled his hair.
You felt his tongue moving in the shape of what you guessed to be letters at your entrance. His left hand moved and started to slowly rub your clit, the action of which made your body shudder. You felt Sanji’s mouth form a smile and his tongue begin to lap at your insides. Your knees bent inward towards him and he moaned at your taste. He continued circling your clit with his left hand and curled his tongue to hit your spot. He started slow then bobbed his tongue out of you quicker and quicker. You begin to feel heat build in your core.
“Sa—-nnn-ji.”
He smiled again, then moved 2 fingers on his right hand to push in and out of you. His tongue curled at your spot faster and faster. Your hips buckled against his hands and face.
“Sanji!” You moan as your juices squirt on his tongue and fingers.
He began licking your juices with his tongue, but continued pushing his fingers in and out of you as he did.
You moved your hands to your sensitive nipples and began rubbing them as Sanji cleaned you up. Your hips still moved softly against him. You moaned at the touch of his tongue and of your hands against yourself.
“Sanji…. I- need you.” You pulled him up by his hair and looked at him with raised eyebrows.
He nodes and moved his chest up to rest above yours. He placed his arms above yours and began to kiss you. His once again, hardened member flopped on your stomach. You moved your hands to pump it a few times. He moved a hand to meet yours on his length. You let him take over and run your hands up his chest to rest around his neck. As you did, he moved his length to your folds and began to rub it up and down.
You moaned against his lips. He chuckled and began kissing down your neck and chest to your breasts. At your breasts he bit and sucked at your hardened buds.
“Can’t wait anymore, need you inside.” You called as your fingers fumbled through his hair.
“As you wish, princess.” He said as he stopped sucking on your hardened nipples and returned to look into your eyes.
He moved his length to your entrance and kissed you softly as he slowly and gently entered you. He gave you a few moments to adjust to his length before he started to push in and out. He pulled away from your lips and admired the bounce of your breasts for a few seconds.
“My princess, my goddess, is so tight for me.” He moaned as he continued to buck his hips against yours causing his member to go deeper towards your cervix.
“Now that you’re adjusted, how about riding me, princess? I want a better view of those perfect tits bouncing.”
You nodded. He grabbed your waist and your back and you held on to his shoulders. In one fluid motion, he flipped on his back and you were on top of him without him ever leaving your core. You moved your hands to his chest and began rolling your hips, your core tightened around him as you did. He played with your breasts and admired you atop him.
“So pretty. I’m the luckiest man in the world. I could die happy.” He swooned while you got your bearings atop him.
Once you got your bearings you began to bounce on him, moving your arms to his legs for balance. You bounced, slow at first, but quickly picking up the pace. He moaned as he watched you roll your hips against him with your bounces. As his climax began to build he moved a hand to rub your clit, causing the heat in your belly to start to rise.
“Sanji going to cum.” You muttered.
“Me too princess, where would you like me too?”
“Innnsideee.” You begged as your eyes crossed.
You leaned forward on him and quickened the pace of your bouncing, while he pushed on and twirled his thumb over your clit. Your tits bounced in his face, awakening something in him. He moved his hands around your waist and thighs and took over control of the pace. He slammed his length into your cervix a few times and you moan as his length twitched in you. His juices spilled from your core and you moaned at the feeling of wetness on your thighs. You continued to rock against him as he moaned. As you did, he moved his hand back to your clit, rubbing two fingers over it. Your core tightened at the touch, his length twitched a bit more, and your heat burst atop his member.
“Sanji!”
You fell on top of him and both of you panted. Once you’d both caught your breath, you rolled off him and moved to lay against his side. He kissed you softly at first, then he pulled you closer and it became deeper and more fervent. Then, suddenly he pushed you away. He moved to sit on the side of the bed and reached for something to clean himself up with. He then sat there and sighed. You sat up and wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. He placed his hands over yours around his neck.
“I’m sorry princess, funs over.” He said as he kissed your hand and removed your arms from his neck.
He got up and began to get dressed, stopping only to bring you your clothes and something to clean up with. You stared at him a moment then sighed and join him in getting dressed. Once dressed you headed to the door. Tears formed in your eyes as you reached for the handle. A hand grabbed yours and turned you to look back at him.
“Thank you for everything, Y/N. I’m sorry I couldn’t be more for you. For the crew. I’m sorry I failed you all.” He said with his head tilted down.
You leaned up and kissed his cheek, then headed out the door. He followed you a few steps out the door to give an excuse to eggplant (the guard on his detail). He watched you go and his eyes began to water.
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