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#pretty hard to go wrong with In This Moment
inuyashaluver · 2 days
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Hi lovely I love ur stuff 🩷 I have a little request/idea - obviously feel free to ignore it
I was thinking R has a really thick accent (English - either Scouse (Liverpool), Geordie (Newcastle) or West Country (Devon/Somerset/Farmer) or Aussie or something really thick like hard to understand from native speakers let alone anyone else) but R plays in Barca and has a crush on a Spanish player (Maybe Patri? maybe Ona? Maybe Alexia?) and is tryna talk to them more and maybe ask them out but they just get looked at funny and they walk off and she goes to Kiera and Lucy and is like what have I done? Do they all hate me? And [Crush] overheads them and goes round to their house after training and is like I really wanna get to know u, I think you’re really pretty etc but I cannot understand a word that comes out of ur mouth to the point where I am questioning whether it’s English
qué? - alexia putellas
alexia putellas x reader
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description: in which your accent proves to be difficult to understand
warnings: LONG!! swearing, misunderstandings, spanish in bold italics
a/n: i love this woman, your honour!! i was writing alexia angst but had to put out the fluff haha!! thank you so much for the love and request, lovely!! ily and enjoy ❤️
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you never thought your accent would get you into trouble but you were entirely wrong. and we’re not talking about trouble like criminal, we’re talking romantically.
you’re from liverpool, your thick, scouse accent distinct in your dialect. at home in england, the accent was understood most of the time, with an occasional person asking for clarification about your words but you didn’t mind.
even some of your england teammates had to ask you to repeat yourself occasionally when you got overly excited or stressed, your accent proving to be the hardest to understand at those moments.
you often needed a translator for even native english speakers if you spoke too quickly, lucy and later grace helping out when people were truly confused.
when lucy and keira moved from manchester city, you moved with them, having played in the club for 2 years and desperately wanting a change. and so, when the contract arrived from barcelona for the three of you, you accepted it without a second thought.
you had supported barcelona in liga F, having a huge appreciation for the way the spanish players moved, the quick passes and the goals that came out of nowhere. you were excited to pick up those skills to adapt to your own play.
and through your extensive research, you grew a special appreciation for alexia. in your eyes, alexia was the definition of perfect, not only her football skills, but her as a whole.
you would watch her interviews and videos for ‘research purposes’, claiming it was to practise your spanish. and it was, until you zoned out hearing the gentle hum of alexia’s voice, getting distracted entirely but you weren’t complaining.
when you got caught making heart eyes at your phone during england camp, the teasing was so relentless it wasn’t even funny.
“our little (y/n) has a crush on la reina! (the queen)” lucy exclaims in the change room, you immediately turn off your phone and look up at her with an icy glare, only making her smile at you affectionately with a pinch to your cheek that you were quick to swat away.
“you’re not much older than me” you glare, “5 years is 5 years” she shrugs, moving away when you launched an empty bottle at her.
“go on, tell us about your crush” leah smiles, millie and rachel pretend to kiss each other while looking at you and you heat up in the cheeks.
“i’m only watching so i can pick up spanish” you defend, lucy laughs loudly, out of the three transfers, she was definitely the one who picked up the most spanish.
“excuse me, lucia, and everyone in here,” you scoff, “is it such a crime to watch a video of my future captain?” your accent was so heavy at this point, everyone cracked a little smile at you.
“so you were watching videos of alexia then?” leah smirks, you let out a frustrated groan, “leah, shut up man” everyone laughs, the teasing continuing until keira and alessia told everyone to stop.
during the whole of camp, it wasn’t uncommon you got caught looking at photos or videos of alexia, the teasing was so bad you thought you would explode.
when the time finally came for you to join barcelona, you were incredibly nervous. the fear of underperforming playing on your mind, only becoming worse at the thought of embarrassing yourself in front of a certain blonde you couldn’t take your mind off.
lucy and keira assured you everything would be fine, but you weren’t convinced, unsure of how you’d react when you finally saw alexia.
when you all walked to the change rooms, it was shocking how welcoming everyone was. hugs and kisses to the cheeks had you feeling so accepted amongst your new team.
and funnily enough, the last person to greet you was alexia, sending you a charming smile that had your stomach erupting with butterflies.
“(y/n), yes? bienvenida! (welcome)” alexia grins, her arms pulling you into a warm hug, her scent enveloping you and making you borderline dizzy.
“(y/n) is a big fan of you” lucy teases as alexia lets you slip from the hug after you mumble a quick hello. alexia gives a surprised smile, looking between a cheeky looking lucy and a sheepish looking you.
“you’re very good, too, I look forward to playing with you,” alexia’s hand moved to give your bicep a gentle squeeze and you swore your heart stopped, your cheeks were tinged with pink and you could barely formulate a sentence.
“yeah, i’m excited to play with ya” you breathe out, you move to your new cubby and get changed into the barcelona kit, feeling at home already even though it was your first day.
due to you busying yourself with avoiding alexia, you missed the way her gaze lingered on you as you changed, she was intrigued by you.
what you didn’t know was alexia had done her own forms of research. she had heard your name countless times in the media, a rising star in the making.
she respected the way you played, a midfielder who wasn’t afraid to take risks but also managed to avoid fouls frequently.
she wanted to get to know you as much as you wanted to get to know her.
weeks and months fly by and it was easy to say you felt comfortable amongst the team. your spanish was surprisingly getting better, being able to go through training without a translator most of the time.
the girls reciprocated you well, you’d go to team bonding nights and laugh and joke around with them. it was obvious to everyone except alexia that you were harbouring a crush on the captain.
the ways your eyes would follow her every move with pink cheeks honestly exposed yourself. and what made it harder was that alexia and you were growing closer each day.
one day you were chatting with mapi and ingrid, more like you getting teased while you begged them to stop before you were interrupted by a certain someone.
“do you want to be my partner?” alexia questions from behind you suddenly, making you choke on your own spit as she looked at you with a kind smile. “really?” you breathe out, she nods, nodding her head to the pitch for you to follow her.
you’d both been able to converse easily as the months went by, she’d have to ask you to slow down a couple of times when you both talked about something you had in common but it worked.
as you both trained together, you chatted and laughed, talking about random topics.
when you both got to shooting practice, alexia analysed your every move. she would give little nods of approval when you touched the ball, sending you an encouraging smile if you made eye contact, your heart was fluttering around her.
“you should put more weight into your hips when you kick” alexia corrects, you look at her questioningly, she huffs out a little laugh and comes to stand behind you.
her large hands place themselves on your hips and she turns them slightly to the front. her front was pressed against your back and you certainly weren’t breathing. she noticed you tense but chose to ignore it.
“focus here before you kick so it’s stronger” alexia says next to your ear, squeezing your hips gently before letting go of you. “try again, vamos! (let’s go)” she exclaims, you do as she says with her corrections and it was a much better result.
she smiles proudly, “buena niña! (good girl)” she laughs, coming up to you to squeeze your shoulders encouragingly, your cheeks were burning.
the entire team watched the interaction with big grins, ready to tease you for how sheepish you looked.
“gracias (thank you), ale” you scratch the back of your neck with an embarrassed smile, she shakes her head, “it’s nothing, thank me with a goal next game” she jokes, pinching your cheek teasingly before walking off to get some water.
you’re left there in shock, lucy and keira approaching with cheesy grins. “you’re in love” lucy coos, poking your shoulder teasingly while you shielded yourself in a hug from keira.
“i’m so fucking stupid, why can’t i be normal” you groan, keira laughs, her hand rubbing up and down your back. “you’re just shy, which is weird to see because you’re the complete opposite” she laughs, you pull back to throw her a glare.
“it’s cute” lucy chuckles, “i can’t wait to tell everyone about the development” she grins, her and keira share a hearty laugh seeing your face go pale, while you attempted not to scream.
“don’t you fucking dare” you grit out, “i won’t” lucy winks, unfortunately she did and by the time training was over, your phone was blowing up with text messages talking about the interaction.
you looked at lucy with a stone cold glare while she blew you a kiss, alexia watched how angry you were, she could practically feel it radiating off you on the other side of the change room.
“estás bien? (are you okay)” alexia walks up to you, holding a cold drink out to you. you take it after a moment of hesitation, “uh, yeah, sí” you smile, “lucia is annoying you?” alexia grins, looking over at lucy to see her and keira whispering while looking at you. “yes, she’s very annoying” you grumble, your eyebrows furrowing.
alexia smiles fondly at you, her hand moving to your face, her thumb smoothing out the crease between your eyebrows. “wrinkles” she tutts, your breath caught in the back of your throat as you looked up at her.
“are you coming tonight?” she says like she didn’t just make you flatline. she’s talking about a team bonding session at her house. “yeah, i think so” you smile at her, “think or know?” she teases, was she flirting with you?
“know, i’ll be there” you mock, she nods with a pleased expression, “hasta luego, lindura (see you later, cutie)” she winks, moving to grab her bag from her cubby and leave, making sure to look back at you another time with a soft smile before walking out.
you get pulled out of your trance once you hear your phone blowing up again, checking it to see lucy had recorded you watching alexia leave. you throw your head back in frustration but chose to avoid letting the older girl feel your wrath, you were still on a buzz from the thought of alexia flirting with you.
when you arrived at alexia’s house, you brought her a bottle of wine with a sheepish grin. when she opened the door for you, she pulled you into the warmest hug, both of you fitting together like a puzzle.
“finalmente! (finally) i was waiting for you!” she grins as she pulls away, taking the wine out of your hands and grabbing one of yours to drag you into the living room where everyone was.
her hand was so warm against yours, soft against your skin and you really didn’t want her to let go. “you look beautiful” alexia smiles before she ushers you to sit down, you barely had the time to tell her how breathtaking she looked, dressed casually but still looking like she could be on the front of a magazine.
you sit next to mapi and she immediately bombards you with questions, “have you kissed yet?” she questions, you slap her knee, “ingrid, your girlfriend is a bully” you huff, ingrid laughs, nodding along with you with an apologetic smile.
everyone was watching a movie while eating, alexia sitting beside you, the two of you would chat back and forth with small giggles and smiles shared between you.
by the time the night was ending, alexia’s arm was resting behind you on the couch, basically over your shoulder while you were in your own little bubble.
when you left that night, you couldn’t stop thinking about all the interactions you had with the catalan, you needed to do something about it. fast.
on a match day for barcelona, you decided it was time for you to tell her about your feelings. it was clear you were flirting with each other. confirmed during the game.
in the second half, you managed to get a goal, using the technique alexia had taught you a couple of days prior.
she was the first one to you after, the loud roar of the crowd drowned out when you felt alexia’s strong arms wrapping around your waist.
you both smiled so brightly as she congratulated you, placing you on the ground, giving you an affectionate kiss on the forehead and squeezing your shoulders. this told you everything. it wasn’t just her being friendly, it was alexia making a move.
at the end of the match, the two of you lingered in the middle of the pitch, you were fidgeting so much alexia was worried.
“(y/n)?” she dips her head to make eye contact with you, “estás bien? (are you okay)” you nod, opening your mouth to speak but nothing came out. “take a deep breath” she smiles, a hand on your shoulder offering you comfort but also stressing you out.
“ale” you start, she nods with an encouraging smile, “i really fancy ya, ale, i’ve been wantin’ to tell ya for a while” you blurt out, alexia’s eyebrows furrow, she looks a little confused.
the silence was loud, why hasn’t she said anything back. if this was her rejection, it hurt more than anything she could have verbalised.
“you know what, forget i said anythin’” you run off before she could say anything. “qué? (what)” she was about to ask you to repeat yourself, one - because you were speaking too fast, two - she didn’t know what fancy meant.
you heard her call out for you but you ran into the change room, knowing keira and lucy were in there. “keira!” you yell, “fucking check my pulse!” you shove your arm in her face and she looks at you in shock. only a couple of people were inside, and the ones that were were shocked at how you tumbled into the room.
“jesus, your heart is going so fast” keira says as she presses her fingers to the inside of your wrist. “fuck, why couldn’t you tell me i’m dead and this is a nightmare” you groan, your hands running over your face frustratingly.
“what’s wrong with you?” lucy says as she walks out of the shower to see you in absolute shambles. “everything!” you explain each and every detail and they look at you sympathetically, understanding now why you were so upset.
what you didn’t know was alexia was outside, ear pressed to the door as she heard you explain that you were trying to confess. she feels her stomach tighten, cursing herself for not understanding what you were saying.
“whatever, i’m going home, don’t follow me” you grit, tears pooling at your waterline as you rush out. alexia had moved out of eyeline when she heard you, quickly going into the change room and drilling lucy and keira for your address that they happily gave her with sly grins. happy to know it was all a misunderstanding.
that afternoon, you hastily wiped your tears away thinking about alexia. you had misunderstood her intentions clearly, you were disappointed with yourself.
you heard the banging from the front door and groaned, knowing your fellow england teammates were probably on the other side with ice cream and apologetic smiles.
“i told you both not to follow me-” you huff, the door opening to see alexia standing there, a bouquet of bright flowers in hand. “hola (hello)” she smiles, “what are you doing here?” you ask softly, “can i come in?” you nod, moving back a little so she could step inside. she hands you the flowers and you take them with a confused expression.
what type of rejection was this?
“i heard you speaking to lucy and keira before” she starts nervously, both of you walking to the kitchen so you could put the flowers in water, they were beautiful.
“it’s fine if you don’t feel the same” you shrink into yourself, brushing the petals of one of the flowers between your fingers.
“hermosa (beautiful)” she calls out, moving around your counter to stand directly in front of you. “me gustas mucho, y quiero estar contigo (i like you a lot, i want to be with you)” she says earnestly, speaking in her mother tongue and hoping you understood because she was speaking from the heart.
you freeze, each and every word quickly translated in your head. “amor (love), you’re very beautiful and nice but you speak very fast, i did not understand a word you said before” she laughs, you can’t help but laugh too, shaking your head at how fast you fled the situation.
“i’m sorry, ale” you grin, “don’t be” she dismisses, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, relishing in the blush she just produced on your cheeks.
“me gustas mucho (i like you a lot), alexia” you smile, she gives you a dazzling expression, appreciating how you spoke her mother tongue to her so she really understood this time. “muy bien, preciosa! (very good, precious)” she coos affectionately, her hand cradling your cheek as she directed your eyes to hers.
“we will teach each other, sí?” she grins cheekily, you hum along with her words, “sí”.
she pulls you closer to place a sweet kiss on your lips, your stomach lurching at how soft they were against yours.
you both smile into it as she drew you closer, your arms wrapping around her neck while her free hand came to rest on the small of your back to press you against her.
she pulls away, not without pressing a few more kisses to your lips through the giggles and the small chatter between the two of you.
when you both came to training the next day hand in hand, sighs of relief were heard from everyone. lucy whipped out her phone as quickly as she could and sent pictures to the england group chat, your phone blowing up more than ever.
now that the team saw you interact, the teasing somehow got worse every time alexia would kiss you, or even hold your hand.
the pining drove everyone insane but the loved up versions of the two of you were insufferable. you were attached at the hip, just how you and alexia wanted.
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you know the drill, just pretend it’s you xx
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alexiaputellas: mi niña (my girl)
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yourname: mami
↳ alexiaputellas: i didn’t teach her this
↳ marialeonn16: sureeeee
lucybronze: the most annoying couple ever
↳ yourname: shut up man
↳ leahwilliamsonn: there she is!!
↳ keirawalsh: she went soft but is still a shit head
↳ yourname: @/alexiaputellas bebé! defend me!
↳ alexiaputellas: you are soft
↳ yourname: the betrayal is unreal
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Text
(DCXDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (Pt. 5)
Tw: torture scene (GiW agent receiving), general angst, canon-typical violence (DC), nobody is having a good time
Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually
(Masterlist/subscription post)
It was pretty easy for Danny to forget that Dr. Crane was a rogue at times.
Most of the time he wasn’t comically evil, like what he’d expect of a Gotham rogue. He was helping Danny, even if only because he didn’t want to be taken in by the GiW as well. He was even downright nice most of the time, or at least neutral.
Sure, he had a strange obsession with fear and psychology, but that wasn’t really out of the ordinary for Danny. It didn’t feel like living with a rogue, just like…staying with a distant relative, or something.
He seemed like just an ordinary person.
Today, though, Danny was brought back to reality.
The GiW agent they’d tracked down together writhed on the ground, screaming in pain and terror. Scarecrow was sat a few feet away, setting up a syringe of the antidote he’d made.
After a few more moments, he injected the man with the antidote, watching him like a hawk the entire time.
Suddenly, the man surged forward, lunging at Scarecrow with a feral scream.
Unluckily for him, though, he was still weak from the fear toxin in his system, and from the beatings he’d received prior. Scarecrow easily wrestled him to the ground, settling himself on the broad part of the agent’s back with a vice grip on one of his arms.
“Let’s try again,” he said sharply, all of the warmth Danny had grown used to gone from his voice. “Where is the GiW base of operations?”
The agent took several shuddering breaths before spitting at Scarecrow, defiance and hatred written all over his face.
For just a moment, the room was utterly silent.
“Fine, have it your way.”
Scarecrow began to twist the man’s arm further. It wasn’t long before the agent began to squirm, then writhe, beneath him. Danny’s stomach churned.
“You know,” Scarecrow began, almost conversationally, “there are plenty of jobs that one can get without the use of their legs, especially with the level of education you have. Anything that doesn’t involve hard labor, really.”
The man’s face was beginning to turn red in his struggle not to scream. He took in gasping breaths, the way that his mouth moved almost reminding Danny of a goldfish.
(He felt awful for the comparison, but it was true.)
“However,” Scarecrow continued, “I find you’d be rather hard-pressed to find a job without the use of your arms. Especially in a place like Gotham, where you can always be replaced by someone eager to do your job for even less money. Of course, you could most likely coast off of savings and severance pay for a while, but…”
He leaned closer to the man’s head, his voice lowering.
“Would you be able to live like that? To live with yourself, if you no longer have a purpose?”
He allowed the agent a few seconds of rest before increasing the pressure on his arm. The agent gasped, letting out a strangled hiss. His arm bones were making fascinating noises in response to the strain. Danny felt sick.
“You seem like a rather driven young man. I’m sure your family would hate to see you unmotivated, directionless. Would they resent you, do you think?”
“Fuck you, you—”
The man was cut off by his own scream as Scarecrow finally allowed his arm to break, audibly splintering into thousands of useless shards of bone.
He had the exact pressure memorized. Clearly, he had done this before.
This was wrong. This was wrong.
Shouldn’t Danny step in, do something?
“That won’t heal cleanly. Even with the best medical care in the world, you’ll end up with permanent damage.”
The man below him wheezed and sobbed, choking on air as Scarecrow let go of his arm carelessly, letting it flop back onto the ground.
“Just the sort of thing something like you deserves,” Scarecrow hissed, his voice cold.
“You tortured a child, and you enjoyed it. You laughed with your friends about it. In your notes, one of your friends complained about the screaming,” Scarecrow brought his leg around, grinding his boot into the man’s broken arm. He howled in agony, writhing uncontrollably.
“Was it inconvenient to him, do you think? Too loud? If you were joking about it, clearly you thought so, too. I could fix that as well.”
He drew out another needle, this one once again filled with fear toxin.
“Scarecrow, wait,” Danny choked out.
Scarecrow turned to look at him.
Even his posture was different than usual. He looked… stiff, more like an animal than a man. When he tilted his head at Danny in a silent question, it looked like something in his neck had snapped, his head lolling to the side.
Danny wondered if he was consciously moving like that, or if it was habit at this point.
“You—we don’t have to do this. We can get information some other way, right? You don’t have to…”
Danny looked down at the GiW agent below Scarecrow. He didn’t even have it in him to glare up at Danny like he had before. Instead he laid limply on the ground, tremors rolling through his body uncontrollably.
“We’ve exhausted every other option and you know it,” Scarecrow said, his voice low, “this is the only way we can move forward.”
“Still, I—I don’t,” Danny swallowed, his throat tight, “this isn’t—this isn’t right. Isn’t there some other way to do this? Like—a truth serum, or something?”
“Truth serums are notoriously unreliable. They’re almost as bad as lie detectors. We’re much more likely to get a reliable result from this.”
Danny just stared at the GiW agent and his splintered, ruined arm. He began to weakly wriggle in Scarecrow’s grasp, which was graciously ignored.
He vaguely remembered himself doing the same thing when he was on the operating table; even if he knew there was no chance of escape, he still thrashed and screamed, desperate to get away. The jagged I-shaped incision on his torso felt uncomfortably warm.
What was there left to say?
“The Bat does the same thing at times, you know,” Scarecrow said, “him and the rest of his brood. By using my toxin, I’m actually lessening the amount of permanent damage that I’m doing. Physically.”
“Still, that doesn’t make it right,” Danny said desperately. “Even if—even if everyone in the world did this, it wouldn’t make it right.”
Scarecrow hummed.
They were both silent for a moment.
His next words were gentle, absurdly so when compared to the scene in front of him.
“I would love an alternative. But…”
He shrugged, hand coming to rest on the break in the GiW agent’s arm. Even without applying any pressure, the man stopped squirming immediately.
“There aren’t any other options,” Danny repeated, his voice flat and his body numb.
“Yes,” Scarecrow said. “I’m sorry.”
There was a pause. No one moved a muscle. Eventually Scarecrow spoke again, his voice strangely empty.
“You can stand outside and keep watch, if you’d like. At such a short distance their radars won’t pick us up.”
Danny said nothing, leaving the room silently.
He sat outside for quite a while.
He was grateful that Scarecrow had, with his help, dragged the agent to one of his previous hideouts. It was soundproofed, after all.
He was glad that he didn’t have to hear the rest of what Scarecrow did to the man.
After what felt like an eternity, Dr. Crane left the building, joining him outside. He guided Danny back to his beat up old truck and they drove home in silence.
“Did you at least…do you know where they are, now?” Danny asked as they entered the apartment, his voice small.
“They didn’t share the details of all of their locations with any one person. I know where one of their locations are, but not their main base of operations.”
Danny felt disgusted. With himself, with Dr. Crane, with the GiW.
He was disgusted by the agent, too. Did he just hate the restless dead so much that he would prefer to be tortured than to give them the upper hand? Did he really think he was in the right?
Was there a chance that he was?
Danny felt very, very small, and very stupid. Stupid and weak and cowardly.
“Danny,” Dr. Crane spoke, his voice soft.
“I’m truly sorry that this is happening to you. I really, truly wish that you didn’t have to endure my company. I…”
He fell quiet. Danny wondered if he was just saying this to pacify him, or if he truly meant it. He wondered if it really mattered in the end.
After a few moments of silence, Dr. Crane sighed, looking truly pained.
“I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
Danny was quiet.
“I’m going to bed early,” he finally said, turning away and leaving without a second glance.
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keegansshark · 2 days
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birthday girl cherry here with a wee request about my favorite scot <33 i NEED a little something about birthday sex with soap. preferably nasty, feral fucking 🫣 totally up to you, but i would love it if the piece included face licking, squirting, and elements of a breeding kink :3
love you and your writing!! <333
cw: 18+, minors dni, fem!reader, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, squirting, dirty talk, spit, face licking, breeding kink, creampie, porn with plot, johnny is very horny (this is a warning in itself)
summary: birthday sex and johnny's a freak
word count: 2.8k
a/n: happy birthday sweet girl <3 love you so much
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“I really don’t kno’ why ye dressed up so nicely anyways.”
“Huh?” You nearly choke on the bite of food in your mouth, staring at Johnny incredulously from across the table. “Of course I’d dress up, it’s my birthday dinner.”
“Ah know it is. You look like an angel. And now I’ll have tae tear that pretty little dress off of ye so I can ruin ye.” Johnny sighs, completely nonchalant as your mouth drops open at the bluntness of his words. 
“Johnny. We’re in public.” you hiss, feeling your face heat up as he flashes that classic MacTavish grin at you. You’re very much in public at a very expensive restaurant that he insisted on taking you to, but that doesn’t deter him from running his mouth. In fact, he might even see it as encouraging.
“And?” he counters, beaming brighter when your glare turns more into a warning. “Dinnae act like it’s a mystery on what we’re gonna do tonight.”
“You’re awful, Johnny.” you mutter, downing the last of your water as you lean back in your chair. “Can’t spend one evening without you thinking with the wrong head.”
He hums contently, pleased at the way he riled you up. That was his plan all along. It’s working. “Never did tell me what ye wanted for yer birthday.” He’s quick to switch the subject, knowing it’ll get you even more flustered.
“What I want is for you to have some manners.” The waiter swings by the table to drop off the bill and you thank whoever is watching out for you that Johnny knows enough to keep his mouth closed for just a few moments.
“You wound me, sweetheart.” He mockingly clutches his chest, chuckling when you kick him under the table. “Not my fault that looking at ye makes me think such dirty thoughts all the time.” 
He tilts his head, clearly weighing the consequences of whatever he’s going to say next.
“It’s also not my fault you look so gorgeous I cannae help but imagine all the ways I’m gonna fuck ye.”
You swallow roughly as he tosses a few bills onto the table, quickly standing up to wrap his arm around your shoulders and direct you out of the restaurant.
He leans in while you make the walk to his car, nipping at the shell of your ear and making you gasp. “And if you keep looking like that, I’ll simply have to take ye right in the backseat, bonnie.”
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You don’t even make it past the living room. You’re lucky you make it past the front door.
Johnny unceremoniously shoves you onto the couch the second both of you step inside your house, hiking your dress over your stomach and gripping the delicate lace of your panties to fully tear it off of you.
“Och, dinnae act like ye aren’t aware I’ve already bought a couple new pairs for ye.” he scoffs when he’s met with your unimpressed glare. “Besides, I think ye look better this way. Don’t need anything covering up what’s mine.”
Any argument you have against that dies the second he grabs onto your thighs, the rough calluses of his fingers digging into your soft skin as he lifts one leg over his shoulder to bury his head right into your pussy. 
“Yer lucky it’s yer birthday,” he huffs, nose bumping against your clit as he practically drools in between your thighs, his saliva mixing with the slickness you can feel is already coating your cunt. “The way you looked back there, if only ye could’ve seen how hard I was. Wanted tae, fuck, wanted tae pull you right into that restroom, bend you over the sink and fuck ye stupid. Only thing stopping me was wanting to be polite on yer special day.”
“You’re an absolute freak, y’know that Johnny?” you laugh breathlessly before it dissolves into a moan, your hand threading through his mohawk as he presses his lips against your clit and latches on, a few simple sucks making your hips jerk involuntarily.
“I can be worse. So much worse.” He has been worse. Will definitely continue to be worse too, but he’s feeling generous today. It’s evident through the way he noisily laps at your cunt, acting like a man starved as he uses his thumbs to spread your folds and flatten his tongue against them.
“Good thing we didnae have cake yet,” he groans against your pussy, his tongue quickly collecting all the slick of your arousal before he lowers it to press inside your entrance, curling it a few times before lifting his head again. “Got the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted in yer pussy right here.”
He stares up at you with those delicate baby blue eyes of his, letting out a moan of his own as your fingers in his hair form a fist and you tug him back up to your clit.  “If only ye could see yourself right now. So beautiful when yer getting yer pussy ate.”
You whimper, grinding against his face as he alternates between suckling and nipping at your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you as you feel yourself rapidly approaching the first orgasm of the night.
“You’re close, aye? Can feel you clenching on my fingers, so fuckin’ greedy.” He leans directly over your clit, opening his mouth as a fat load of spit covers over the swollen bud and his thumb rubs against it to make a sticky mess out of your pussy.  “It’s yer goddamn right to be greedy, especially today. I’m gonna need ye tae cum for me, sweet girl, need to kno’ I’m making ye feel good.”
The filth coming out of his mouth coupled with the way his fingers are thrusting inside of you perfectly are what sends you over the edge, crying out sharply as your fluids drench his face, leaving your thighs trembling against his head as he eagerly uses his tongue to clean up all of your cum left on your pussy.
“Gonna make ye do that again. Makes me lose my fuckin’ mind when you squirt on me like that.” he sighs, leaning back as he wipes the slick glistening on his chin and licks his fingers clean. You immediately prop yourself up to reach for his belt, letting out a low whine when he gently moves your hands away.
“Quit yer fretting, you’ll get my cock. Just not here. Need tae fuck ye proper, cannae do it on a couch. C’mon, love.” Johnny swiftly hooks his arm around your waist to toss you over his shoulder, rolling his eyes and landing a soft smack to your ass when you squirm in his grasp. “Dinnae give me that, I’ll manhandle you any day of the year. Nothing you can do about it.”
You bite back the ‘yes sir’ on the tip of your tongue, not wanting to boost his ego even more as he carries you to your room. “I’m more than capable of walking up some stairs, Johnny.” 
“Won’t be doing any walking once I’m done with ye.” he retorts, kicking open the bedroom door and dropping you onto the bed. “Won’t be doing much of anything if I can help it. If I haven’t fucked ye till yer legs are shaking and yer heads empty then I didnae do my job correctly.”
“Is that a promise?” you ask softly as Johnny moves to unzip your dress, your hands working in tandem to unbutton his shirt, the collar of which is now completely soaked with your juices. 
“It’s a given,” is his short response as he tugs your dress off of you, tossing it to the floor as you finally lose your patience and rip the rest of his buttons open. You let him shrug his shirt off to join your dress on the floor before staring down at the bulge evident in his dress pants.
“Christ, baby,” you mumble, fingers moving swiftly to undo his belt and shove his pants down to his thighs. There’s already a wet patch against his boxers, and you appreciate it as long as you can before you’re pushing them down as well to watch his erection spring up against his stomach. 
His dick is mouthwatering, if you’re being completely honest with yourself. A fat pearl of pre-cum already leaking from his tip, dripping against his abdomen. It must be throbbing, aching at being neglected for so long. 
“I did all that?” you breathe out, wrapping your fingers around the length of his cock to pump up and down slowly. “Just from eating me out?”
“Fuckin’ hell, you do this just from seeing you.” he inhales briskly, staring down at you jerking him off before he softly directs your hand away. “Cannae lie, eating that sweet pussy of yours definitely helped me too.”
He fully tugs down his pants and boxers, kicking them off towards the pile of clothes as he crawls up towards you. 
His mouth is on yours immediately, his middle and ring fingers finding their way back to your pussy and quickly sinking into you. Johnny uses his other hand to guide your head back onto your pillow, allowing his body weight to press you into the mattress as you moan against his mouth. He kisses you sloppily as his lips slot between yours to push his tongue into your mouth and swirl it over yours.
“So pretty, so fuckin’ pretty, baby. My pretty girl.” he croons, his lips trailing down to your neck, practically panting as his tongue laps at your pulse point. “Ye drive me crazy. Every time I fuck ye I’m thinking about when I get to make you cum again. Yer always on my mind, I swear tae you.”
His words being both simultaneously dirty and praising make your head spin, and at first it barely registers that his mouth is moving from your neck.  “Johnny, fuck…” you groan, nose scrunching as he drags his tongue across your cheek and leaves a trail of spit in it’s path. “You’re no better than a dog.”
“Can bark if ye want.” he grunts in response, not giving you any warning before spitting against your lips and smearing it around with the tip of his tongue. “Sorry, baby, need my mouth on you. Look so fuckin’ good under me.”
You’d let him do anything to you if he keeps fucking you like this, even if it’s just his fingers for now, and you have to admit that his tongue feels as good against your face as it does against your pussy. His hand that isn’t currently filling out your cunt moves to your shoulder, pinning you down as he licks all over your face, making your skin coated with his saliva.
Johnny pumps his fingers inside you a few more times, the squelching audible before he slowly pulls them out of you. You whimper at the sudden emptiness before throwing your head back against the pillow at the feeling of his cock grinding against your folds, the sensation making your pussy flutter around nothing. 
“Please… please, Johnny.” you cry out, rocking your hips back and forth desperately in an attempt to get any friction possible.
“Please what, sweetheart?” he murmurs as he grips his cock, tapping the head against your clit and slathering your slick all over it. “Birthday girl still has to use her words.” 
“Please fuck me already.” you whine, your nails digging into his biceps as you spread your legs wider around his hips. “Need you to fuck me, please.”
“Never get tired of hearing that.” He drags his cock against your pussy a few more times to gather up as much wetness as he can before finally pressing himself into you. You feel your cunt stretching around his girth to accommodate him, his tongue and his fingers having prepped you well but never enough for how thick he is.
His thrusts start slow and gentle, but Johnny isn’t a patient man, nor does he feel like holding himself back tonight. He lifts his leg up to reposition himself, before completely pounding his cock into you. It’s almost animalistic the way he loses himself in you, making you cling to him as your thoughts are consumed solely by Johnny and the way he’s making you feel. You breathe heavily, forcing your eyes open as you stare up at him.
Johnny looks as ravished as you feel; mohawk tousled from your fingers running through it and damp from sweat, his pupils blown out you almost can’t see the blue behind them. The thick, rough pads of his fingers dig into the meat of your thighs as he fucks you without hesitation, pushing himself as deep as he’s able to he watches the way your cunt keeps sucking him back in.
You feel him everywhere, his cock spearing you open while one of his hands moves to grope your breast, rolling your nipple between the pad of his thumb and his pointer finger. Your mouth drops open in a silent moan and he uses the opportunity to spit directly into your mouth, feeling it coat your tongue as you make eye contact while you swallow.
That must’ve set something off in him, because you’re instantly rewarded with him fucking you so perfectly it makes you see stars. “Just like that, Johnny! Right there, right-”
He cuts you off as he grips your hips harder to angle himself deeper, the head of his cock hitting the spongy spot inside of you perfectly. “Yeah, yeah, I kno’. Right there. Acting like I don’t kno’ yer pussy inside an’ out, like I haven’t made this pretty pussy my fuckin’ home.”
He leans down, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Think ye forgot I practically molded yer cunt to my liking, bonnie.” he whispers, his hips smacking against your ass with another thrust as if to prove his point. “Believe me, pretty girl, there’s nothing about you I haven’t memorized yet. And that includes all the ways I get tae make ye cum.” 
His hand moves from your breast to your stomach, gently kneading your skin as he continues to pump into you. “Wanna cum inside ye. Figured out what tae get you as yer gift.” He meets your eyes as he rubs soft circles against your stomach, smirking as he feels you clench down on him. “Yeah? Wanna have my baby? I’ll make you a mama, don’t even have tae ask.”
You don’t have it in you to reply, your mind feeling fuzzy as you feel the pressure build up inside you again. “Johnny, I’m so close, so so close, I can’t…” you pant, your senses nearly overwhelmed from all the pleasure Johnny’s making you feel.
“I kno’, love. It’s a lot, aye? S’okay, you can be good for me and cum.” he coos, his hand going from your stomach to above your pussy, his thumbing working roughly against your clit.
You arch your back against the mattress with a mewl, his cock and his thumb on your clit working together to send you over the edge. He holds you steady as you squirt for the second time, your juices soaking over the dark curls trailing up his stomach and at the base of his cock. 
Johnny fucks you through your orgasm, his own following shortly behind yours. He dips his head to the crook of your neck, sighing out your name as his hips stutter and he finishes inside you, hot ropes of semen coating your pussy as his thrusts slowly slow down. He keeps his cock where it is, allowing his cum to be plugged up in your cunt.
He collapses on top of you, panting and trailing open mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. He wraps his arms around your waist, cuddling you tightly as he looks down at you with love in his eyes.
“So good to me. Happy birthday, my girl.” Johnny murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your temple as he cradles you against him, your chests rising and falling in unison. “Love you so much. You have a good time tonight?”
“I love you too.” you smile warmly, catching your breath as your lips meet his. “I’m having a great time, Johnny, all thanks to you.” You try to lift yourself up from under him, before feeling his grip against you tighten ever so slightly.
“Where do ye think yer going, bonnie?”
“Don’t you need to take a breather?” you ask quietly, your confusion evident as he shakes his head and guides you back down against the mattress.
“Dinnae think for a second that I’m done with you.” he grunts, pulling his cock out just enough for you to feel his cum run down your thighs and onto the bed sheets before he thrusts into you again.  “I’ll make this a birthday to remember.”
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erwinsvow · 1 day
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“yeah, you want that one?” rafe asks you, while you browse through the dresses on the rack. the one you’ve picked out to show him is yellow gingham, with skinny straps and a bow on the neckline. you hold the dress to your chest, looking down to see where it’ll end on you. “i’ll get it for you.”
“hm…” you consider the idea for a moment, holding the dress out again to get a better look. “i don’t know. it’s pretty short.”
“since when is that a bad thing?” rafe moves his arm against the rack, manhandling the hanger from your hand and holding it against you himself. “think it’s perfect.” you laugh at your boyfriend’s antics.
“there has to be a reason to wear it, rafe. i don’t have any right now.”
“we’ll go to dinner. there’s your reason.”
“i have other dresses,” you decide finally, putting it back between the others.
“c’mon, just let me get it for you.” he follows you while you walk away and wander towards the jewelry section of the store. you look down at sparkling silver and shimmery gold, while rafe joins you and leans against the glass counter. “you want jewelry instead? that’s fine.”
“no, i’m just looking,” you insist again. “it’s called window shopping. ever heard of it? 
there’s pretty things in the case, a silver bracelet with little blue stones that particularly catches your eye since blue is your new favorite color, but you don’t really want anything, and you really don’t want rafe to buy it for you.
“no. just pick somethin’ out. my treat.” you glance up at rafe.
“for what? i haven’t done anything.” he laughs to himself, not necessarily at you, more because of you.
“i don’t need a reason.” he makes you flush, so you walk away again, this time to the shoes. you hold a pair of brown sandals in your hand, flipping them over to see the size.
“you already treated me, remember? you paid for lunch.” rafe grabs the shoes out of your hands too.
“that’s a meal, not a treat. want these?” he looks down at you, not even sparing a glance to the price tag. “c’mon.” you grab his wrist as fast as you can.
“no! no. i have some just like these. it’ll be a waste, i’ll never wear them.”
“are you bein’ serious or are you just sayin’ that?” damn it. you are just saying it, since you don’t want rafe spending his money on you. you lie to cover your tracks.
“serious. i’d never lie to you.”
you wrestle the shoes out of his hand, settling them back on the shelf. 
“fine. c’mon, we can go somewhere else.” you finally let him buy you an ice cream cone just so he’ll stop offering.
you try to explain to rafe that the reason you want to walk around is to look around and spend time with him, not to really buy things, but he’s hard to convince. 
rafe thinks you need to stop being so worried about what everyone will think. you’re still bad at it, trying to ignore that part of you that murmurs in your ear that people will judge you for all these nice, new things rafe wants to buy you. you think people will say you’re dating him for the money, but worse than that, you think people will say bad things about rafe, about his choice in dating you, if you ever make him buy you more than dinner or ice cream.
your hesitancy gets the best of you, and even though you’ve always had some nice things, being pampered by rafe feels inherently wrong, like you should at least make sure he knows he doesn’t need to buy you anything. lost in your own thoughts, you’ve rejected his offers countless times, and the only new, expensive thing he’s gotten you since you started dating is the R necklace you wear everyday. 
you think you’re good at hiding it, but you’re not. rafe sees right through you, and he knows what he’s going to do about it. 
later that week, rafe drops you off at home in the morning after you slept over. you still think he hates driving in the cut—as much as he denies it—but he refuses to let you bike back and forth to tannyhill. 
“i’ll pick you up for dinner.” he says, leaning across you to open the passenger side door. you flush like you always do, partly because he’s not asking, he’s telling.
you nod, and then wave bye from the window. he waits until you get inside to drive away, which makes you want to go scream into your pillow. you head into your room to do just that, but you’re greeted instead by bags and boxes littered across your bed.
you know what they are, even before you walk over on your wobbly knees and set aside the tissue paper, looking down with watery eyes all the things you had been admiring in the store the other day with rafe. you sit down next to them—the yellow dress, the pretty sandals, the glittery bracelet—and dial rafe’s number on your phone. you exhale shaky breaths while the line rings, but can’t hold back tears any longer when he answers.
“you didn’t have to do this,” you say quietly into the phone, biting your cheek. you try to blink away the new tears.
“do what?” you laugh, so rafe laughs too. 
“i…i feel bad when you buy me things.”
“i know. y’should stop that.”
“or you can stop first.”
“i’m never gonna stop.” you suck in a breath, heart thudding and feeling deliriously in love. “gonna come get you later. wear the new stuff, okay?”
“okay. i will.”
“that’s my girl.” you fall back and let your head hit the pillow.
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mcntsee · 1 day
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— ★ Her voice
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↳ Summary: It’s been four years since her death and Spencer is struggling with the fact that he can’t entirely remember what her voice sounded like.
↳ Warnings: Death (oop— you are dead), grief, angst, sadness, mood swings. Not proof read. No use of “Y/n”
↳ Author’s note: This was requested by a lovely anon that is going through the same situation as Spencer. Anon, and anyone else who might need it, you are not alone. Grief is a bitch, yes, but soon enough it will get better. Don’t ever doubt asking for help.
* ੈ✩‧₊˚
Since the night they lost her, Spencer has undergone significant changes. His demeanor shifted, not entirely transforming him into a new person, but certain characteristic traits that defined Spencer had certainly faded away.
 
The confidence she had helped him build vanished entirely, leaving him a mere shadow of his former self. His hard-to-understand jokes became less frequent, and the statistical facts he used to effortlessly share with the team seemed to fade into the background. Though they knew he still possessed the knowledge, his once vibrant presence now felt subdued and distant, as if a vital part of him had been lost along with her.
 
Losing her didn't entirely change him; if anything, it returned him to the twenty-four-year-old they had once known.
 
Appearance-wise, he remained largely unchanged. Though the passage of time had left its mark with subtle signs of aging—darker bags under his eyes and a paler complexion, suggesting increased time spent indoors—his essence remained the same.
 
But if there was one thing that underwent a complete transformation for Spencer, it was his choice of accessories. While he had always worn a watch, in terms of fashion accessories, that had been the extent of it.
 
Now, however, his hands were usually adorned with rings—rings that appeared slightly too small for him. It was only when Penelope noticed the gold heart ring she had gifted her on her birthday among them that the team realized those rings had belonged to her, not Spencer.
 
That, or the dagger necklace he now always wore. While the rings constantly changed—every day a new set—the necklace remained constant. It became pretty obvious to all of them that Spencer probably never took it off, especially when the gold edges started to tarnish.
 
With the 4th year anniversary of her death quickly approaching, the team had been anticipating a change in Spencer’s mood. Typically, Spencer became grumpy and irritable as the two-week countdown to the anniversary began. However, this year, his demeanor was more than just that.
 
He was angry. He had snapped at all of them more times than they could count, often for seemingly stupid reasons. He had gotten little to no work done since last week, and most of the time, unless explicitly required, he kept his distance from them as much as possible. Usually, he could be found sitting at his desk, staring at the files in front of him while either tugging at his hair or pulling at the necklace around his neck.
 
They had all tried to talk to him, asking him multiple times what was wrong or offering help, only to be met with Spencer's yelling.
 
It wasn’t unusual for him to distance himself and become grumpier around this date, but this was different. They had never seen him this angry before.
 
So when the day arrived, Hotch called for a meeting. They waited patiently for Spencer to sit down, with JJ closing the door behind her. There was a tense silence in the room, lingering for a moment longer than they wanted, with their faces constantly shifting between each other until Rossi finally spoke, and all eyes landed on Spencer.
 
“What’s the matter, kid?”
 
Spencer, who had previously been looking down, his hands toying with the necklace around his neck, snapped his head up in Rossi’s direction, meeting his eyes with anger.
 
“Is there a case?”
“No.”
“Then, what is this?”
 
Rossi's mind raced, searching for the right words, but his mouth moved ahead, unable to keep pace. Only hesitant filler sounds escaped as his lips repeatedly opened and closed in search of words.
 
“Talk to us, Spence. What is going on?”
 
Spencer’s hand ceased its relentless movement on the jewelry. His eyes were moving around the room, scanning the faces of his team; his family as they watched him.
 
He wanted to yell at them as he had for the past two weeks, to scream and curse them for profiling him without his consent, but tears had already begun to form in his eyes before he had a chance to pick who to yell at first. Shortly after, his head fell into his palms as sobs wracked his body.
 
"Oh, my boy genius." Penelope's embrace was warm, enfolding him completely. Drawing him close until his head found solace against her chest, his arms instinctively encircling her, fingers seeking comfort in the softness of her touch as her hand gently caressed the back of his head.
 
They waited in silence, their hearts heavy as they watched his body tremble with sobs, while Penelope spoke softly, whispering words of comfort, her head resting gently on top of his.
 
After a moment, his sobs became softer, his hands coming up to wipe his face as his back stretched back up again. “I can’t—“
 
With a sigh, he cleared his throat, his eyes unable to meet his teammates’. “I’m not sure I remember her voice.” He whispered with a trembling voice, cracking once while he spoke as fresh tears formed in his eyes. “I think I remember it, but I’m not sure if my brain is just tricking me into believing that’s what she sounded like.”
 
“I don’t know what’s true and what is made up by the grief in my mind,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. With a deep breath, he found the courage to face his friends. “Please help me.”
 
“Alright. What do you remember?”
 
With a slow nod, his eyes closed briefly, a couple of tears escaping without permission as he dove deep into his memories. “I remember her voice had a rasp,” he said, a small frown gracing his features. “I—I think.”
 
His eyes opened once more, scanning the familiar faces, searching for some sort of reassurance in their understanding gazes.
 
It was only then that the team started to realize that, much like him, they couldn’t really recall what her voice sounded like. "I don’t remember her voice being raspy," said Hotch, breaking the silence that had fallen upon them.
 
“No, Spence is right. It was there, not overpowering, but distinct enough to hear.”
 
The comment was only followed by Morgan shaking his head in disagreement, causing doubt and fear to consume Spencer once again. Hearing them talk about something he was sure about only furthered his growing doubt. "I, uh—her tone was soft and patient," he interjected, hoping to quell the uncertainty gnawing at him.
 
At that, Emily perked up, her head nodding rapidly. “Yeah! It sounded like someone explaining something to a child without using an exaggerated baby voice.”
 
It seems like the discussion had been prolonged, spanning over an hour, yet instead of alleviating his worry, it exacerbated it. Rather than providing reassurance, it seemed to have fueled his uncertainty, amplifying his doubts about his own memory.
 
As his frustration mounted, any traces of tears dried up, leaving behind a lingering desire to lash out at his friends for exacerbating the situation. And perhaps he would have succumbed to that impulse, if not for the fact that when he looked at them again, he could see the pain etched in their faces as they struggled to recall.
 
In all the years since her death, he has not once stopped to think about how it would have affected the rest of them too. He had been too consumed by his grief to realize that he hadn't been the only one to lose someone.
 
Emily had lost her best friend, the one steadfast presence throughout her entire career at the BAU. She was the only person among them who had opened her arms and accepted Emily into the team as soon as she stepped foot into the office.
 
Hotch had lost the godmother of his son, the one person who was always there to lend a helping hand, keeping Jack safe and cared for. She had been the first to hug and congratulate him when he announced they were expecting, and she was the one who would always listen and reassure him when he doubted his abilities as a husband and parent.
 
Penelope's sweet tooth flourished with each treat the girl brought for the tech analyst. With endless creativity in her choices, there was never a dull moment when they gathered in Penelope's office, engaging in lively conversations about anything and everything under the sun.
 
Rossi had essentially lost a child. She was the only person he willingly allowed into his kitchen, the sole recipient of his culinary wisdom without the need for her to beg for it like the rest of the team. Rossi was the one she would turn to whenever she and Spencer had a fight, and he was the one she would seek solace in when pained about one of his ex-wives.
 
JJ and Morgan had always been closer to him than her, but they had loved her nonetheless, just as she had loved them. They would often act like siblings, going out clubbing together or bickering about any trivial thing they disagreed on.
 
Looking at his friends' faces now, he realized that, although this whole ordeal might not have helped him at all, they were all trying their hardest to remember her voice. And maybe he shouldn't have told them because, only now that he took in the pain in their faces did he realize that they probably remembered even less than he did with his eidetic memory.
 
The meeting was dismissed shortly after his realization. Now, they were all back in their respective spots, unable to focus on work as they were lost in thought, much like he had been for the past two weeks.
 
His phone vibrated on his desk. With a quick glance at the screen, he saw a text from Penelope. His hand swiftly moved from the necklace to the phone, quickly reading the message that urged him to go to her office before standing up and making his way over there.
 
Once there, he saw Penelope browsing through her personal laptop, sniffing as her hand came up to wipe her cheeks. Slowly, he made his way over to the chair she had dragged in for him to sit on. "Penelope?" he called softly, concern evident in his voice.
 
"I have something that might help you," she said, not meeting his eyes as she clicked on an audio file. With a nod of his head, he encouraged her to continue. "Before she died," fresh tears gathered in both of their eyes, Spencer being the only one successful at holding them back. "She asked me to record a message for you."
 
Spencer felt a surge of anger at Penelope’s admission. "Garcia, after four years, you're only telling me now?" His voice grew louder with each word, and his fists clenched tightly as he struggled to contain his frustration.
 
“I know. I know, but she asked me to only play it for you when the moment was right.”
 
“Then do it.”
 
Penelope gave a slow nod, her index finger gliding across the mouse pad, tapping her finger once when the mouse cursor reached the play button.
 
The computer's speakers filled the room with the sound of shaky breaths amidst static, the interference momentarily intensifying before fading away completely. “Are you—is it... God…”
 
The sound of her voice filled his ears once again after so many years, the tears in his eyes now freely flowing as his heart swelled with warmth at the familiar sound he had desperately yearned for so long to hear again. “Are you recording?”
 
"Yes, but, please, just save your breath. They are on their way there.”
 
“No, I—“ more labored breaths followed as she once again cut herself off. “Spence, I am so, so sorry, love,” she choked out, her voice trembling with emotion.
 
The once-warm feeling in his heart was quickly replaced by a sinking sensation in his stomach. As he listened to the pain in her voice, he understood why Penelope had been hesitant to show him this.
 
“I love you, Spencer. So, so much.” By now, he knew she was crying, her words mingling with the soft sobs and sniffles that escaped her.
 
“I’m offended. You only love Spencer?”
 
Before he could get angry at Penelope for teasing her while she was dying, her soft laugh—something he thought he would never hear again—reached his ears, restoring warmth to his pained heart. “I love you too, Pen.”
 
He had been looking down, but when those words were uttered, he looked up to find Penelope’s face. A soft, trembling smile graced her lips, her tear-stained cheeks adding a poignant depth to her expression as she kept her focus on the computer before them.
 
"I love all of you," she coughed, wincing in pain as she took another shaky breath. "A lot. I love you guys so much."
 
“They are almost there. Hold on, please.”
 
With a sigh, she said, “I’m sorry I broke my promise, Spence. I know I said I would never leave you, but I—” there was a puse as she coughed, “I’m proud of you.”
 
His hand, which had unintentionally been spinning the ring around his finger, was quickly engulfed in warmth. As he shut his eyes, he quickly gave Penelope’s hand a squeeze that was returned.
 
“I love you, baby. Always have, always will.”
 
There was silence after that; the air of that night was the only sound coming from her side as Penelope desperately called out her name, begging her for a response before the sound of his own voice yelling her name reached his ears. The recording ended shortly after the sound of someone’s knees hitting the ground beside her played.
 
There was a moment of silence as the two sat there, hands still in each other's as they stared at the screen. As Penelope turned to look at him, she was taken aback by the soft smile on his lips. “I knew her voice was raspy.”
 
 * ੈ✩‧₊˚
 
As the 7th anniversary of her death quickly approached, Spencer had undergone significant changes since the day they talked about her. His demeanor shifted, not entirely transforming him into a new person, but certain characteristic traits that had been missing from Spencer had returned.
 
The confidence that had once disappeared was slowly starting to return, and the team found themselves once again struggling to keep up with his jokes and to grasp all the new statistical facts he effortlessly shared with them.
 
He didn't completely revert back to the genius they had grown accustomed to, but he was no longer the twenty-four-year-old version of himself either.
 
Appearance-wise, he hadn't changed much. While he had continued to age, the dark bags under his eyes had become fainter, and a light tan had returned to his complexion.
 
His hands were still usually adorned with rings—rings that seemed too small for him. And the dagger necklace still hung from his neck; its original gold color has now faded to almost silver from daily wear.
 
The only new change the team had noticed since that night was the little iPod and earphones that he now carried everywhere he went. He always kept them close, often putting the earphones in while working on files or during flights.
 
When they had asked what he was constantly listening to, he had responded with his characteristic tight-lipped Spencer smile and said, "Her voice."
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prince-liest · 3 days
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Was asked a question about how I write Alastor's relationship with being mixed recently and figured it might be worth sharing my answer here:
(Obligatory disclaimer: I'm not a mixed Black person and I've never even been to the US South, so I'm never going to do a deep-dive on this and my efforts are largely in writing this character in a cohesive and respectful way that doesn't overstep the bounds of my experiences but also doesn't erase his background, either.)
Alastor strikes me as someone who is pretty dedicated to, to put it potentially uncomfortably, masking as white. He straightens his hair, puts on a transatlantic accent, and generally presents himself in a way that he feels is representative of a certain style of "class" back in his day, which was a very white-coded style of class. The fact that his actual body is now extremely unnaturally colored makes it easy for people to pick up the hints he's giving them about how he expects them to see him, unthinkingly.
There's this moment I wrote in 666: Live On Air!:
He lets his smile fade until it’s that old, soft thing on his face. “I think,” he says quietly, “that I look rather like my mother. If she had red hair and antlers, of course.” Angel hesitates. “That a good thing or a bad thing?” Alastor contemplates for a moment. “I think it just is,” he says finally. “For all I know, she does have antlers up there, wherever she ended up. It’s nice to see the echoes of her in my own face.”
And given the context of the scene, it's not wrong to interpret it as an exploration of being aroace, or having loose attachments to gender underneath the vagaries of presentation. I think all of these things can be connected and intertwined; identities and memories are so hard to separate and isolate in that way.
But intertwined along with all of that, I think it's worth noting that unlike Alastor, his mother would not have had the ability to pass as white. So seeing echoes of her in his own face... it's a whole mess of feelings about being true to himself and his mother vs being safe vs taking advantage of what he can in a bigoted society vs his mother loving him and wanting what is best for him vs not knowing anymore if that is safety or truth vs him loving his mother and wanting to honor her.
It's a lot! And given what kind of person Alastor is, it's no wonder he doesn't want to fucking talk about it.
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vodika-vibes · 2 days
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hello!!! i would like to request something for the follower event please! i would like to request aquamarine with wrecker in fall please! i also want wrecker to be emotionally intelligent please! i feel like it’s something that’s very underrated abt him.
i was thinking about something where the reader is the medic to the bad batch, who has been recently heartbroken so horribly by an ex that she’s given up on love entirely. then wrecker comes along being his lovable, caring, and joyous self and the reader can feel herself falling for him. but because of her history with love, she tries to close herself off from him.
wrecker, who has been falling in love with the reader, can see that something is wrong, and tries to help but receives a cold shoulder. eventually wrecker confesses his feelings for the reader, and the reader tells wrecker that she feels the same but is scared about getting hurt again. wrecker reassures her that he is not going to break her heart, and tells her that love is about taking a leap of faith.
so the reader takes that leap of faith and it ends with the reader and wrecker having their first kiss!
absolutely no rush to get this finished btw! thank you so much, and i hope you have a wonderful day/night!!
I Can Fix That
Summary: Wrecker knows that the pretty Doctor has sworn off love. She’s never been shy about that, or about how awfully her ex treated her. But, he’s pretty sure that he can fix this.
Pairing: TBB Wrecker x F!Reader
Word Count: 652
Prompts: Aquamarine - Healing Love
Warnings: Implications of a previous abusive relationship, though there's no details
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly
A/N: Sorry that this took so long! I needed to come up with a good idea, and I think I finally found one. Also, I couldn't add in all of the details, due to my self-imposed word limit, but the implications are there.
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“You need some help, Doc?” Wrecker asks with a grin as he knocks on the door to the medbay on the Marauder, “I’ve got nothing to do and Hunter told me to make myself useful.”
She frowns at him, though Wrecker can tell it’s not because she’s annoyed with him, so much as the situation, “I’m actually all set here, Wrecker. So long as no one gets hurt, it’ll stay that way.”
“Well, you know what Tech is like.”
She pauses, and then makes a face and turns to pull some bandages out from over the sink, “Honestly, for such a smart man you’d think that he’d be able to pay more attention.”
Wrecker grins, “He does pay attention. To his project.”
“You’re not helping.”
He laughs, “Sorry, sorry.” He settles on one of the chairs and stretches his legs out, “In any event, as soon as Tech finishes the repairs we can get out of here. I’m not a huge fan of how humid it is.”
She shoots him an odd look, “I mean, I don’t like it either. But why do you dislike it so much?”
Wrecker’s grin widens and he smooths his hand over his head, “It’ll ruin my hair.”
A startled laugh falls from her pretty lips, and Wrecker’s wide grin softens. He’s glad that she’s not giving him the cold shoulder anymore, it makes flirting with her so much easier.
Her laughter subsides after a few moments, but a few giggles still escape her lips, “You’re such a goof, Wrecker.”
“Well, someone on this ship has to be funny, it might as well be me.” He folds his arms over his chest, “You know,” Wrecker says slowly after a moment, “We’re going back to Ord Mantell after this.”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Well, there’s this nice little food stall, they sell these little pancake things with desserts in the middle-?”
“You mean crepes?” She asks.
“Yeah, I think that’s what they’re called.” He watches her closely, “You want to get some with me?”
She pauses, and there’s a flash of uncertainty on her face.
“No judgment if you don’t, Firefly.” Wrecker adds, his voice gentle, “I know that your ex and his actions make dating hard, make trusting people hard-”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Wrecker-”
He holds up a hand, “Let me talk, please?”
She settles, though the look of uncertainty lingers on her face.
“Thank you.” Wrecker pauses to collect his thoughts, “I love you. You’re…amazing. You’re smart and kind and funny and good. And you’re so afraid of being hurt that you refuse to even consider a relationship.”
She ducks her head, her hands clutching the hem of her jacket.
“And that’s fine. I have no idea of the kind of stuff your ex put you through, but I can guess.” Wrecker leans in, “This is me making sure that you know that I’m interested. And me letting you know that I’m a patient man and I can wait until you’re ready for a relationship.”
She blinks at him, startled.
“So, what do you say? Want to get crepes with me? Just as friends, no more.”
She’s quiet for a long time, long enough that Wrecker starts to think that she’s going to turn him down, but then her grip loosens on the hem of her jacket, “Do you remember if they had fruit crepes?”
And Wrecker grins, “You know, I think they do.”
“Well, in that case…” She won’t meet his gaze, “I do like crepes. And I like spending time with you.”
“Then it’s a date.” Her gaze snaps up, and he grins, “A friend date, but a date all the same.” Wrecker pushes to his feet, “Now, I have to go. I was supposed to be helping Tech.”
She blinks, and then laughs, “Wrecker!”
“What? You’re so much better to look at than my own brother. See you later, Doc!”
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shieldofiron · 1 day
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Set You Free
Threw this up on Ao3 too
It sounds like a joke. That thing was in his head, speaking in that stilted voice and once it was gone Billy couldn’t stop talking. Couldn’t stop fucking talking, partially because he was scared that it would turn into the wrong voice, partially because he almost couldn’t believe he had survived.
“I don’t want him here, he hits me,” He told the nurse when his dad came to visit.
And just like that they’d barred his dad from the hospital.
Max had come by with her little boyfriends and he’d talked their ears off, half crying, about the year before, about the monster, making no fucking sense, until the littlest one with the creepy haunted doll look sat beside his bed and patted his hand.
He just couldn’t stop talking, but he had to because Harrington was apparently visiting today with his girlfriend or something.
And so he sat silently as Harrington rambled on about the mall, about some freako sounding Russians and fireworks.
“Anyway. I guess what I mean is I’m sorry, cuz I hit you with that car. And if Mike hadn’t pushed you out of the way you’d be dead, and… I’m real sorry, Hargrove,” Harrington said, “For all of it. Mike and Will are like obsessed with telling me how you saved all of us so, I just wanted you to know that… thank you. And I’m sorry.”
Billy nodded, glancing over at the girl who hadn’t said a peep.
“So you forgive me?” Harrington glanced up with those pretty puppy dog eyes.
Billy nodded again, biting his tongue.
“Great!” Harrington nodded, “I’ll go down and get us some coffee or something, and then we can all catch up. Robin, coffee?”
“Black,” Robin nodded, “And get something that won’t make Billy hurl chunks, please.”
“Got it… uh… ginger ale?” Harrington looked at him.
“Just water. I’m missing like ten miles of intestine or some shit,” Billy grumbled.
Harrington blinked, startled, “Right.”
He left with a few of those kicked puppy dog glances, and then Billy was alone with the girlfriend. Robin. The thing is he kind of liked her before she became Steve’s girlfriend.
“I liked you too. And I’m not, by the way,” She folds her hands in her lap, “Steve’s girlfriend.”
Stupid talking thing.
“You’re kind of interesting, Billy Hargrove,” She smiled, and then she frowned.
They just kind of stared at each other, until sweat started to form on his brow.
“Don’t tell him I’m gay,” He blurted out at last.
He knew it, she knew it. Caught him and Tommy having a… moment under the bleachers a million years ago. Billy used to see big poufy band geek uniforms in his nightmares for weeks, but she never said anything.
“I wouldn’t,” She shook her head.
“But I might,” Billy growled, “You gotta keep him away from me, girlfriend or no.”
“Why?” She wrinkled her nose.
“I’m… gay?” He almost scoffed. What was she not getting?
“Okay. Again. Why would Steve have to keep away from you?”
“It’s fucking… wrong. Wrong to have feelings for him. Disgusting pervert shit ok,” Billy frowned, “I told Max he shouldn’t come.”
“I don’t think it’s wrong.”
Billy bit his lip so hard he thought he might draw blood.
“The kids too. Everyone should just stay away.”
“Even me?” She shuffled in her seat, “Is it dangerous for me?”
He glanced at her, not sure what she was saying. Why didn’t people just say what they meant?
“Listen, I don’t really know what happened to you, but I think you staying away from everyone and everything is kind of what got you into this shit in the first place,” She shrugged. “Just sayin’”
“That’s not why it happened,” Billy muttered.
“Then what happened?”
“I was… trying,” Billy’s throat felt right but he pushed through it, “To be normal. And it didn’t work, because I’m fucked.”
“I don’t think you’re fucked. And I don’t think…” Robin scooted forward, taking his hand, “Look. I don’t think you’re evil or anything.”
“I killed people and I have a gay crush on your friend.”
“Okay, that fucking thing killed people and people get fucking crushes every day,” She shook her head. “It’s not a crime.”
“It kind of is.”
“Only to cops,” She rolled her eyes.
He exhaled, “fine. I still kind of like you.”
“Same to you, Billy Hargrove,” She patted his arm, “just remember. The truth will set you free. Maybe Steve won’t think you’re evil either, you know.”
Billy was about to answer when Harrington swung into the door, “The nurses said you could have one of these dinner rolls too.”
“Course you fucking charmed the nurses,” Billy grumbled, “They fucking hate me.”
Harrington just laughed, gamboling in like a happy puppy and setting up Billy’s table.
“The truth,” Robin mouthed over a fluffy cloud of brown hair, “Will set you free.”
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hyuuukais · 2 days
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⋆₊‧⁺˖⋆˚.⋆ ͙͘͡★ LOOK UP TO THE STARS
pairing ▪︎ han jisung x fem reader
synopsis ▪︎ sent out on a mission to a neighbouring QZ that's gone radio silent, y/n falls into the hands of a post-rebellion group after things go terribly wrong. giving up on rejoining her squad, she joins the group on a trek to find a missing member, the group leader's sister. what's supposed to be a not-so-simple trip out and back to their base becomes a one-way ticket to the end of everything they know.
warnings ▪︎ gen
MASTERLIST | CHAPTER ONE
SQUADS & REBELS
▪︎ SQUAD 143 NOTABLE CHARACTERS
Squad Leader Lee Minho ▪︎ stoic and blunt, an intimidating teacher. Knows more than he should, protector of y/n, at least, he thinks he is.
Cadet L/n Y/n ▪︎ one of the best students of her year; could be the top student if only her unarmed hand to hand combat improved. clumsy in day to day life, but sharp and precise with a weapon in her hands.
Cadet Kim Seungmin ▪︎ y/n's best friend since she arrived at the QZ 13 years ago. a strong and sarcastic fighter, unwilling to submit to authority. would do anything for the people he cares about, but they don't need to know that.
Cadet Yu Karina ▪︎ y/n's roommate born and raised in the QZ, knows that place and the surrounding area like the back of her hand. a fluid fighter and smart girl, on her way to becoming another squad leader.
Cadet Kim Winter ▪︎ brought to the QZ as a young child with no recollection of the outside world, growing up beside karina like a sister. y/n's other roommate specializing in medicine.
▪︎ SQUAD 144 NOTABLE CHARACTERS
Squad Leader Seo ▪︎ driven by unstoppable determination and loyalty, she's gunning for her squad to be the best of the best. fiercely protective of her members, not just because one of them is her brother.
Cadet Seo Changbin ▪︎ a friend of seungmin's, a strong and valued soldier. gets away with more than he should.
Cadet Shin Ryujin ▪︎ another friend of seungmin's. top of her class, don't care attitude. mess with her or her friends, and you're done for.
Cadet Yang Jeongin ▪︎ went missing last year after being mistakenly sent on a real mission before he was ready and hasn't been seen since. no body was found, he's been assumed dead amongst his peers.
▪︎ REBELS NOTABLE CHARACTERS
Bahng Chan ▪︎ unspoken leader of the group. would put his own life at risk for everyone he cares about, even if he just met you. takes care of the others, but who takes care of him?
Hwang Hyunjin ▪︎ best hand-to-hand fighter in the group, hands down. thinks his worth is tied to his skills. has a secret creative side and always carries a sketchbook with him, capturing his friends in soft moments.
Han Jisung ▪︎ a skilled sniper, and not just with a gun. can hit almost any shot as long as he can focus. pretty much at least good at most aspects of combat, and he's funny too!
Lee Chaeryeong ▪︎ another skilled sniper, quiet and stealthy. sees a lot, hears a lot, says nothing about any of it; you can trust her. lost her sister when a QZ attacked her camp as a young kid and met chan not too long after.
Lee Felix ▪︎ resident doctor and beam of positivity. the apocalypse calls for hard times, but he always shows the silver lining to those around him in an effort to cheer them up, even if only for a moment.
Bahng Hannah ▪︎ chan's missing sister. a free spirit and curious person, always yearning for knowledge. a lover of music and art, somewhat sheltered by chan from the doom and gloom around her.
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phighterss · 2 days
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★ Subspace Relationship Headcanons ★
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tags: subspace/reader, general relationship headcanons, sfw
★ Subspace, in general, is a very prideful demon, he’s proud of his achievements. his inventions, his experiments, and his region.
★ When you become his S/O, you better bet that list just got longer.
★ He adores you with all of his being. I’m not joking, he would do anything for you. Make an invention for you? Sure. Kill somebody who ruined your day in a painful and merciless manner? Of course! Subspace worships the very ground you stand on and he isn’t afraid to make it known through his words and actions.
★ Subspace yaps nonstop about you to his coworkers and when his coworkers aren’t around, he’ll just talk to his Biografts, gleefully kicking his feet and giggling while writing down logs for his experiments (that he will definitely show you later, without a doubt.)
★ If you’re away for a while, he will lend you Zeta and insist they come with. Subspace wants to make sure you’re okay at all times, so who’s more qualified for the job of protecting you, than his more reliable Biograft of all time?
★ Whenever Subspace is off-duty, expect him to spend the whole day cuddled up close to your side or going out on a date with you. When I say this man loves spending time with you, I mean it. He wants to spend every waking moment with you by his side and has even tried to convince you to drop by while he’s on-duty so you can be together while he’s working (he’s that desperate.)
★ Subspace, as we all know, is a batshit crazy mad scientist. He is not afraid to kill someone who harasses you or even so much as looks at you the wrong way. Attempting to convince him not to hurt somebody is often futile. He is very violent and in his rage-filled moments, he is hard to snap out of it.
★ He loves to participates in phights with you, same team or not. If you are on the same team, expect him to be the one at your side protecting/assisting you at all times. When on the opposite team, he will go extra soft and easy on you, regardless of your strength. Subspace loves you to death and he can’t bring himself to hurt you too much with his poison. Oh, he couldn’t bear to see you hurt, especially not by his own hand!
★ After phights, please praise him. Subspace is a sucker for being praised and a stroke to the ego is just enough to make him fall in love with you all over again. He wants to be treated like he’s on a pedestal, so when his partner decides to compliment him, for even the most innocent of things, he melts instantly.
★ Subspace has definitely made inventions with you in mind. So if you ever voice your complaints about anything, like a defective watch, broken electronics, or an old toothbrush, on his days off, expect him to bring home a few little nifty gifts he was cooking up after he finished up his experiments and Biograft enhancements.
★ You can’t convince me otherwise that Subspace is a creep. He would probably follow you around without you knowing or send one of his Biografts on over to watch you. He just wants to know your safe at all times, and obsessively thinks about what would happen if he isn’t there to protect you and ends up overthinking it to the point where he kind of stalks you.
★ He’s a huge flirt with you. He doesn’t care where he does it, who’s watching, or if you’re in the middle of a phight. Subspace wants to vocalize his deep admiration for you and thinks that flushed pigmentation on your pretty face is to die for.
★ He’s very touchy. Always has his hands on you at all times. One arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you in close to him, or your hand in his. Any sort of physical contact is a huge yes for him.
★ Very much into PDA. Not afraid to show you off to public and make everyone envious that the prettiest demon in the entirety of the four regions combined is all his!
★ As much as he likes showing you off, he despises when anybody tries to make advancements on you or shows even slight interest in you. It makes him want to kidnap them and preform whatever cruel experiments he’s cooking up. Extremely possessive.
★ If I had to rate him a number from 1-10, i’d have to say i’d give him a 7. Can offer you all the affection in the world and more, but can be extremely unstable and violent towards others.
★ Conclusion: We love and worship Subspace here, guys!!!
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babybluebex · 1 day
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UM HELLO ?!
desperately need a continuation of munch!dom please 🧎🏽‍♀️
oh. oh yes. oh absolutely. obviously this is gonna be under the cut bc a) it's not gonna be short, and b) it's explicit smut, which is NOT everyone's fav, so if you don't wanna read that, scroll on :)
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(the gif... all i can see is tongue and lips and big doe eyes)
but munch!dom. the first time he ate you out was your first night together, he's really setting a precedent here, but before he even got between your legs, he was everywhere, sucking your neck and pushing his hands up your shirt, wanting to be so close to you and feel every inch of you, and the kisses he lands on your mouth take your breath away and he knows it
you get into his flat and don't even make it to the bedroom, he gently pushes you onto the couch and moans softly as he kisses your lips, playfully biting at your bottom lip, and he does That Thing where he pulls back and bites his lip and sorta laughs and his eyes are half-lidded and he’s looking at you, not like he wants you but like he needs you, and you sorta say “what?” and he shakes his head “nothing… just thinking” “about?” “you. what else?”, and the kisses he lays on your skin start going down, stripping you of your shirt and taking his time to suck at your nipples, and you gasp when he bites a little, and he groans at your sound and mumbles something about “… so goddamn pretty…”
finally gets you out of your pants, and you’re suddenly aware that you’re mostly naked on his couch and he still has his jacket on, and he clocks the moment of hesitation, and he’s pulling his face from out of your stomach “what’s wrong?” and you’re cloudy and can only go “huh?” “you’re kinda… i don’t know, a little off all the sudden. everything ok?” “oh yeah!” you say quickly “j-just, umm, could you take off your…?” and he sorta jumpstarts "fuck, i didn't even realize, sure, sorry" and sheds his jacket, and he goes for his pants, undoing them just enough to get some relief from the constriction on his hardening cock, and he returns to you like he can't bear to be away for too long
it's obvious where he's going and what he wants to do, kissing down and gently biting your hipbones, grabbing you hard with his strong hands, and he gets you fully on your back and kisses at you through the thin material of your panties, his eyes fluttering to look up at you "can i?" he whispers, his voice hoarse and a little broken, he already sounds so fucked out and nothing's even happened yet, but you just sorta whimper and nod, and he shakes his head "give me words, baby, your pretty noises aren't enough" and you start to whine his name and shift your hips up to meet his mouth, but he moves away with a laugh "baby, c'mon, i'm serious, need you to talk to me" "do i need to give you verbal consent or what?" you giggle, and dom rubs his hands up and down your thighs as he nods "enthusiastic consent would be appreciated, please" he says, and you just laugh and run your fingers through his curls "you're an idiot" you smile "i'm not doin' anything until you say those magic words" dom says "fine" you say "dom, please?" "please what?" dom asks "oh my god!" you laugh "please fuck me!"
and he instantly goes in, kissing at you through your panties, then kissing your thighs, going far but never where you need him, and you're already soaked, embarrassingly quickly, but he doesn't comment on it, and he really only speaks when you ask him "what're you doin'?"
"wanna get you all easy first" dom whispers "you're so fucking tense, i'll never be able to fit inside you if you don't loosen up a little. wanna get you all soft and relaxed, wanna make you feel good, love"
and he drives you nearly crazy when he starts to eat it through your panties, licking and really going in, but you've still got the thin cotton barrier and you might lose it if you don't feel the actual wet warmth of his mouth, and you wiggle under him to try to get the point across, and he pulls away and sends a quick little smack to your cunt "be patient" he tells you as you moan "you'll get it soon" "do you always tease mean like this?" you ask, and dom shrugs "when i feel like it" he says, and his fingers curl in your panties and gently pull, not enough to move them but enough to make your heart jump in your chest, and he lets the elastic snap back onto your thigh "how bad do you want my mouth, baby?" "really bad" you whine "bad enough to beg?" he asks with a devious twinkle in his eye, and you nod quickly "well...?"
and your breathing is so labored, every nerve ending is on fire, and you mumble out "dom, please, baby, please, i want it so bad" "what's that?" he asks "sorry, you'll have to be louder" "dom!" you hiccup "y-your neighbors—" "can complain all the fuck they want" he says "beg louder, or you're not getting it" and you've never seen him like this before, not exactly forceful but not shaky either, and demanding but also gentle, you've never experienced it with any partner before but he's being dominant as fuck, the man's gotta match his name, you suppose "dominic, please!" you cry louder, digging your fingertips into his scalp "please, i want it so bad, please!" "what do you want so badly?" dom asks, and his finger lightly trails over your covered core, feeling the wetness that you've gathered "tell me, baby" "y-your mouth" you stammer out "where?" and you know he's being teasing and mean on purpose, he's just trying to get you worked up so that the relief is that much sweeter, and the way he's knelt on the floor between your thighs, watching your face intently, sends shivers up your spine "anywhere. wherever you want" and another quick little smack "where do you want?" he asks "sweetheart, just use your words and tell me exactly what you want, and i'll give it to you. whatever you want. just tell me."
and you squeeze your eyes shut and pant out "my pussy! put your mouth on my pussy, please, dom, please, i want it so—" and you can't even finish your sentence before he's shifting your panties to the side and going in for the kill
and god, he's so good at it, licking fat stripes from your hole to your clit, sucking it between his lips, rubbing his thumbs on your inner thighs to urge your legs open wider, and he's messy with it, spreading your wetness everywhere with his mouth, coating the scruff on his upper lip and on his chin with you, and he's moaning because you're moaning, it is SO HOT, and all you can do it just writhe around and whimper and cry, and you pull his hair to tell him you want more, and he happily obliges, bringing his hand into the mix, rubbing your sensitive little clit with the softs of his fingers, and your hips buck up involuntarily "fuck, sorry—" you start but dom pulls away from you with a smile (and a wild lil look in his eyes) "oh baby, do whatever you want... with pussy this good, you can do whatever you want to me" and he goes back in, and you squeal when the tip of his tongue prods at your throbbing entrance, his fingers still rubbing you, but he's picking up speed, working quickly towards an inevitable end, and you can't help the heat growing in your lower belly "d-dom" you whine "i'm gettin'..." "yeah?" he replies "you feel it?" "mhm" you mumble "c-can you... fingers...?"
and that's not remotely a coherent question but that's where your mind is at rn, but he also knows what you want, because his long slender fingers join in, pushing into you with ease, and whoever taught him how to finger someone was doing GOD'S WORK, bc he KNOWS about the little trick of hooking his fingers up and finding your g-spot, and he gives a wicked grin when you jolt and yelp "yeah?" he asks, maybe a little whiny and condescending, but the heat is growing quicker and quicker in your belly, permeating down into your toes "that feel good, baby?"
"dom, i'm gonna cum" you tell him quickly, and his fingers play inside you as the tip of his tongue flicks your clit, and you're so sensitive and it's almost overwhelming, and a shock runs through your system when he spits onto you, right where his fingers sink into you, and suddenly the wet lewd sounds of it are hitting the walls, and your back arches as it all washes over you, and you can hardly manage out a wrecked cry of his name "dominic!"
when you come down from the high, dom's pulled his fingers from you and is palming at himself as he watches you shiver and force out a breathy laugh, and his free hand is rubbing your leg, and he's shushing you "just like that, so good, good girl... d'ja like that, honey?"
and you nod a little, moving to sit up a bit to see him, and he's knelt back on the floor, neck and ears and cheeks red, hair messy from your fingers, and you just mumble "where the fuck did you learn that??" "learn what?" he asks "dommy... i've never cum like that before..." you tell him "not from... that" "oh" he says simply, and he shifts himself up, going into the pocket of his jeans before pulling them off and shoving them to the side, and you see the little blue condom wrapper in his palm "well, you're welcome, honey. do you wanna keep going, or are you done for the night?" "is this that whole enthusiastic consent thing again?" you ask playfully, and you pull him back to you, whipping his tshirt over his head (and cleaning his face with it), and he gets up on the couch between your legs, caging your head in-between his arms "no" he says with a grin "this is that whole 'i wanna make sure you're up for it' thing. that you can take it." "well" you start "i guess i'm all easy and soft and relaxed, huh? you might be able to fit inside me now" "only one way to find out" he winks with a smarmy grin
and when you're all done, about two and a half (the half being him cleaning you up with his mouth and tongue, which resulted in one last surprise orgasm that neither of you planned) rounds later, he's got his window open and a cigarette between his fingers, and you're all curled in his side, tracing his tattoo, and you just mumble "who would've thought..." "huh?" he asks "who knew you're such a munch?" you ask, and he furrows his eyebrows "a what?" he asks, slotting his cigarette in the corner of his mouth to circle both his arms around you "a munch" you giggle "ok, but what is that?" he asks, playfully batting away your low-drifting wandering fingers "look it up" you tell him, nodding towards his phone on the nightstand "urban dictionary it" and he sorta grumbles and grabs his phone and goes to google, and he reads for a few seconds, then scrolls, then reads some more, and he goes "... yeah, but that's not bad, is it?" "no" you say "it's just very sweet" "you know who else is sweet?" he mumbles under his breath, and you go to grab his dick, but he gets your wrist first with a laugh and draws you into a kiss
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chuuyasboots · 1 day
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cowboy!nanami washes your hair for you when you’re too tired to do it yourself. it’s almost innate to him, to take care of you, and he does it with all the tenderness and love in the world.
it wasn’t hard for him to see how tired you were from the moment you walked in the door. it made his heart ache as he greeted you, taking your bag off your shoulder and kissing you sweetly.
“how was your day, darlin’,” he asks, even though he knows the answer.
you shrug, “just long. there’s always so much to do and some people just don’t do their share so i have to step up. it’s stupid.”
he kisses the top of your head as you hug him, resting your head against his chest, “i’m sorry, sweetheart. that is stupid. do you want dinner? or maybe a bath first?”
“mm, a bath sounds nice,” you reply softly.
he pulls away to press a quick kiss to your forehead, “i’ll go get it started, angel. i just poured a glass of wine for us, if you wanna grab that.”
you smile at him and turn into the kitchen to grab the wine while he runs the bath. you take a quick sip, your cheeks growing warm with the love and affection wrapped around your heart.
you linger in the kitchen for a moment, noticing that the pots and pans you’d left in the sink earlier already washed and put away. god, every time you though you couldn’t possibly love kento more, he found a way to prove you wrong.
you bring the glass of wine with you to the bathroom, where you see kento lighting one of your favorite candles on the counter.
he smiles fondly when he sees you, “should be warm enough for ya, darlin’.”
you let him help you take your clothes off, his hands reverent as they caress your now naked body. you take his hand and step into the bath, a sigh leaving your lips—it felt perfect, and you’re so thankful that you have such a perfect fiancé.
“i’ll go cook while you’re in here,” kento says once you’re settled. “take as long as ya want, sweetheart.”
“wait,” you reply, looking up at him as he stands in the doorway. “you’re not gonna leave me in here all alone, are you? we can just order something in.”
kento’s smile melts onto his face, “hm, i reckon that’s fine, if that’s what ya want.”
you nod, and kento sits on the edge of the tub. your eyebrows furrow and you reach for kento’s hand.
“i meant get in with me, lover.”
kento raises his brows but his smile grows as he grabs your chin gently and pulls you in for a kiss. you drip water onto his shirt when you bring your hands up to pull him closer, but he doesn’t mind. not when he’s tasting your lips.
“whatever you want, pretty,” he says, sliding his shirt over his head and standing to step out of his jeans.
you try not to stare too hard at his gorgeous body, but you know you’ve been caught when a chuckle escapes kento.
“see somethin ya like?” he teases, smirking as he sits behind you in the bath, muscular legs caging you in against him.
you turn your head to the side to nuzzle your nose along kento’s jawline, humming in response to his teasing. he leans forward to catch your lips against his again, savoring the way you smile against his lips.
when he breaks away, leaning back against the edge of the tub, he grabs your shampoo, dumping a bit in his hands before rubbing it into your hair. you have to make a mental effort not to moan when his fingertips scratch against your scalp, but you think it may be the most intoxicating feeling in the world.
kento can feel it in the way you slump against his chest and your breathing evens out. he thinks you might have fallen asleep, but he can’t quite tell. either way, your eyes were closed and a blissful smile rested on your pretty lips.
kento finishes washing you up, maneuvering you however he needs to get you clean and refreshed from the day you’d had.
you had ended up falling asleep at some point, only stirring when you felt kento’s lips against your cheek.
“hey, darlin. y’wanna get out now so we can order food? you’ve gotta be hungry,” he says softly, and you can feel his deep voice rumble through his chest.
you shift in his hold, reaching a hand up to cup his cheek, looking at him with hearts in your eyes.
“that sounds perfect, ken,” you lean in, just barely hovering over his lips. “you’re perfect. love you so, so much.”
he closes the space between you, kissing you with a soft passion that made your entire body feel pleasantly warm.
“i love you too, baby. more than anything’.”
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vampiric-hunger · 2 days
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𝕕𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕤𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟: 𝕔𝕙.𝟚 - 𝕘𝕝𝕦𝕥𝕥𝕠𝕟𝕪
pair: Ascended!Astarion x female!reader
tags: no y/n is used, rating - E, (this chapter) physical fighting, smut, dub-con, cunnilingus, orgasm denial, dick riding, PiV, blood drinking, creampie, graveyard smash
summary: you're skilled, driven and most importantly - ambitious. but even as someone in your position, a trained assassin and a leader of your own Guild, you still lend yourself to jobs that are of importance. even if those jobs sometimes mean attending parties. tonight - it's a masquerade and you're bored out of your mind, until the man who hired you to protect him leaves you alone, at the mercy of a stranger who suddenly took a keen interest in you.
this is a 7 chapter fic exploring Ascended Astarion through a lens of 7 deadly sins.
word count: 5,969 | Chapter 1 |
Another boring soiree. Why do these nobles insist that someone is going to kill them the moment they are having fun with others of same status? You have been to quite a handful of these parties but not even once anyone attacked a person you were guarding nor have you heard of it happening in general. Political assassinations like that don’t happen much in Baldur’s Gate and you have a hard time being patient. If not for handsome amounts of gold these patriars offer you to just stand around and drink wine you wouldn’t even bother. Or, you think to yourself, maybe you would. Making noteworthy connections among the cream of society in this bustling city is always useful.
Your client tonight is Lord Witdale, a pompous middle-aged man that has as much stomach as he presumably has gold. And considering he already paid you for your protection tonight – the rumors might be correct. Problem is, the man doesn’t like being guarded despite hiring you. Even right now he’s in a group of young ladies, chatting them away as if he’s sure he can bed one of them tonight. And he might not be wrong. His status and talks about his riches already serve to inflate his importance to a point he seems to be quite a popular lay among the nobles. You don’t understand why, but then again, here you are, despite your own status as a Guild leader, parading yourself in a pretty dress just because this same man paid you a dizzying amount of gold to be here and watch his back. At least he doesn’t need much watching – surrounded by a flock of chattering women he is more protected than even you are in this moment.
With that thought you look around and pause your vigilance when a young servant boy comes by with a carafe of wine. You let him refill your glass and when he scurries away your attention gets immediately caught but a familiar sight – a cloud of white hair to your right. You glance in the direction and recognize the man you had that brief affair with. The memory is pleasant and so is his smile as he weaves through the crowd to approach you. He proceeds to bow in front of you in an exaggerated manner and you raise an eyebrow, amused rather than impressed.
“Lord Astarion, surprised to see you here.” you taunt but Astarion doesn’t miss a beat. He stands straight again and gives you a smirk.
“Is that so? Did you think I only attend select parties?”
“I hear you prefer to have such parties in your palace.” you take a sip of your wine, your eyes on his.
You remember the taste of his mouth, the feel of his cock, the way he moaned against your skin and you have to use all your strength not to start grinning. Such a beautiful man, he was the talk of entire city when he claimed the Szarr palace as his own couple years ago, and you had him all to yourself for one very satisfying encounter. You know that if women in this room knew that you got to experience what it is to be intimate with Lord Astarion, you would be envied with anger. As far as you’re aware – he’s the most desired bachelor in the city, yet he seems to be very selective in who he beds. The thought nearly makes you grin again.
“Of course I do, my dear. I prefer to stay comfortable in my own home.” Astarion comments and steps closer but you hear something else in his words, an unspoken truth – he prefers his own palace to be the gathering place because he feels in control there instead of out here, and you’re not unfamiliar with the feeling.
You don’t reply, just nod and drink some of your wine while observing him closely.
“Strong and silent type?” Astarion begins again with a smile. “I should’ve figured, considering how our last… encounter went.” his voice is heavy with implication and you smile back to him.
“Let’s say I’m a woman of action rather than words.” you hide your smirk behind the glass as you take yet another drink from it and Astarion chuckles.
“Can’t deny that I’m anything but impressed. Not every day a woman walks away from me before I get bored of her.” his smirk becomes more dangerous, gains an edge to it and you’re not sure what he’s implying but you have no desire to figure it out.
“Can’t say I’m surprised.” you comment, studying his face for a brief moment. “What I hear of you, it looks like your presence is very much desirable in gatherings such as this.” you make an effort to look around and check on Lord Witdale but he seems to be faring well.
Lord Astarion chuckles again and makes you look at him by trying to take your glass away from you. You don’t let him and that gives vampire a pause, his eyes meeting yours once more and looking the source of this defiance in them, yet he doesn’t increase his effort, letting go of the glass and gesturing around him.
“Patriars love to gather and chatter around. I won’t deny that even I’m not immune to deliciously sounding gossip.” he gives you a smile but you don’t respond to it.
“Let’s cut to the chase, shall we?” your polite smile is gone and Astarion’s own falters, then melts away, a hint of annoyance appears on his face but the elf quickly takes on a neutral expression with a hint of arrogance in how he looks at you, waiting for you to continue. “What is it that you want from me tonight, Lord Astarion?” you take another sip, giving him a moment to think before he replies but it doesn’t seem like he needs that moment. Instead, he just smirks at you.
“Impatient, aren’t we?” a soft chuckle escapes his lips and he leans to you ever so slightly. “I haven’t forgotten how you tasted last time we met, darling. Maybe I want another such taste.”
You pause at his seductive tone then laugh, surprising Astarion. He leans away from you, an eyebrow arrogantly raised as if you insulted him, but confusion is clear on his features.
“What’s so funny?” he asks impatiently, for a brief moment letting the mask of confidence and seduction slip but you don’t answer right away. Instead your eyes sweep down his stature and back to his face.
“You really think I want anything more from you than what I already have gotten?” you ask, genuinely surprised he’d suggest you two fuck again. You shake your head slightly in disbelief and empty your glass of wine. The vampire frowns at your words, obviously offended.
“Excuse me?” he begins with a tone that betrays his feelings – you wounded them, or at least his pride. “Are you telling me you would refuse me?” Astarion slightly rises his voice and you lift your eyebrows at him. He’s losing patience so quickly.
“We had fun, once. It doesn’t need to become anything else.” you reply casually and Lord Ancunin frowns deeply, his crimson eyes seem to blaze at your words which he obviously perceived as an insult.
“Careful, darling.” he says in a tone that spells danger and the smirk returns to his face, a sharp edge to it warning you that you should choose your words carefully next time you speak. “I may not know who you are but I won’t allow you to act like you have an upper hand here. I know you’re here because someone hired you. I assume you’re an assassin by trade but if you think that makes you some sort of dangerous figure I am to be afraid of, you are sorely mistaken. You’re just a toy to nobles who bring you here for your pretty face not for whatever skill you might possess.”
You listen to his little speech and smile after he’s done.
“Is that’s what you think, Lord Astarion?” you tilt your head slightly and take a short glance at Witdale, he still seems to be doing just fine until you notice irritation on his face and you hope it has nothing to do with you.
“Pay attention to me, dear.” Astarion demands and you move your gaze back on him, amused by his annoyance at you.
“Not used to being rejected, Lord?” you taunt and vampire’s eyes now blaze with true anger but it only amuses you more.
“Rejected? Listen here, little girl, you have no idea what kind of dangerous game you’re playing here. I will tell you as-”
Astarion doesn’t get to finish his angry tirade because you get called over. You look into direction of Lord Witdale and see him waving you over. You grit your teeth because you were enjoying yourself, annoying this pompous elf, but work is work.
Ignoring Astarion you turn to move but hear him chuckle lightly.
“Beautiful name, darling. I’ll keep it in mind.” he says in a tone that is meant only for you to hear and you pause, giving him a glance, seeing conceit once more on his face and you narrow your eyes slightly at him, but walk to your client.
“We’re leaving, now.” the man demands while being looked upon by several noble women and you raise an eyebrow but nod. Whatever happened is not your concern and not why you’re here.
With a huff and a puff, Lord Witdale walks out of the main room and down the stairs to the exit. You trail after him, setting your wine glass aside on a random table, but your mind focusses on Astarion for a moment. It looked like you really got under his skin and that gives you an immense feeling of joy. Nothing pleases you more than working up spoiled nobles for all their worth, knowing they can’t strike out without risking their reputation.
And for what it matters, it looks like your task for tonight got cut short. Lord Witdale doesn’t even talk to you as you accompany him to his carriage. He pauses before climbing in, turning his flushed with anger face to you.
“Keep the gold. I’ll reach out if I need you again.” he says curtly and you nod, watching him climb in, get seated and begin murmuring to himself. For a brief moment you get curious about what have caused it, but as the carriage pulls away you simply watch it get further and realize you are free for the rest of the night.
With a quick glance around you begin walking, picking the path through the garden. You need to get back to the Guildhall and the closest entrance is one in the cemetery. Making your way through gardens and less public areas, you make sure that you aren’t followed, although you smile to yourself that if anyone saw you right now, climbing stone walls and keeping to the shadows while you’re in your expensive dress, they would probably think you mad. Good. As long as they don’t see your face, which you make sure to hide as much as possible.
But the sense of being watched begins creeping on you. You’re not as fast or quiet as you would love to be, your shoes and clothes are not fit for sneaking around after all. All of this slows you down and makes you more noticeable than you’re used to being. You’re good and hiding and sneaking but you’re also good at killing people, so you’re not too worried about being spotted. Being followed though… that’s another matter altogether, and you begin to feel like someone is trailing you even despite your best effort to avoid it.
Before you enter the cemetery you become convinced someone is following you and you don’t like this one bit. You enter through the partially open gate and stop, looking across tombstones littering the soft grass but you can’t seem to pinpoint from where the feeling comes. Problem right now is simple – you can’t allow anyone to see the entrance to the Guildhall and if you’re being trailed that surely complicates things.
You walk the path leading deeper into the cemetery, aware of every little thing in your surroundings while your fingers hover over your dagger just under the dress, strapped to your thigh. After a minute or two you lift the fabric and grip the handle firmly, feeling more uneasy with each passing moment.
You pick an area that you believe is going to be good to confront whatever assassin is trying to follow you. It’s a bit more secluded spot with 5 graves in a circle, obviously a family section of sorts, right underneath a big tree. You didn’t pay much attention to weather up until this point, but now that you stopped and prepare for a fight you notice the stillness of trees and the heaviness of air – it’s going to rain.
“Come out now, I know you’re following me.” you say in a tone that leaves no room for argument and you half expect to be ambushed but then you hear footsteps. Your eyes immediately snap to the location and you exhale slowly. You should’ve known.
It’s him.
You straighten your back slightly, but your hand remains gripping the dagger. He may not be an assassin but he’s still a vampire and could be very dangerous if he wants to start getting more physical than you two did at the masquerade ball.
“Why have you followed me?” you ask right away, watching Astarion step into the grassy area you’re at, his eyes almost shining in the dusk of night and he responds with an easy laughter.
“Darling, I don’t like to have my conversations unfinished. And I think you and me have something to talk about.” vampire now walks closer to you and finally stops. You see his eyes, his smile, his fangs. For a moment you remember, once more, how it felt to be pounded into by him and you press your lips into a thin line, telling yourself to not lose focus.
“I’m pretty sure we finished talking.” you raise an eyebrow at him and he makes another step towards you, now entering your personal space but you stand your ground while looking at him from under your brows.
“Oh how intimidating.” Astarion chuckles but he seems to hesitate to touch you even if he likes like he wants to.
“Tell me what you want, Astarion.” you say firmly and he considers you with mildly bemused expression, then laughs.
“Not a Lord anymore?”
“No need for titles in a place where titles stop mattering sooner or later.” you give him a small smirk and your words seem to make him pause, then he smiles and bows his head ever so slightly.
“You are right.” he agrees, surprising you but then he seizes the moment by quickly grasping you by your waist with both hands and bringing you to him, chest to chest.
You frown and press your palms against him, trying to push back.
“I’m not going to fuck you again, vampire.” you say firmly and Astarion laughs while grinning now.
“How vulgar. Maybe the reason you don’t talk much is because that dirty mouth of yours begs to be filled the moment you open it.” a taunt, and a good one, it makes you blush ever so slightly. You’re not the shy type, not at all but how he says it makes your heart beat faster.
No, you can’t let him play his games.
“Let go of me or lose a limb.” you threaten, your hand shooting down to your dagger but he catches your wrist quickly and leans closer to your face. His expression tells you everything you need to know – he wants you and he’ll have you.
But you’re not just some damsel in distress, you don’t appreciate when men think they can treat you like property, many have done so before, for decades while you slaved away as a toy to those more powerful than you. No, Astarion won’t get what he wants.
You pause only briefly and bring your forehead to his face. You aim for the nose but miss it by a hair, hitting his forehead instead. Astarion shouts and his grip on you slips – just what you needed. You free your wrist from his fingers and deliver a blow to his chest, pushing yourself from him in one swift movement and making Astarion stagger backwards in surprise. He obviously didn’t expect you to put up a fight.
And you’re not stupid enough to take on a fight with a vampire on your own with only a dagger in your arsenal. You need to flee if you want to stay alive. You know this and you know he knows it.
“You little shit.” you see Astarion say with a grin and you turn, knowing you’ll have to run if you want to get rid of him, but before you even make one step you feel yourself being tugged by the skirts of your dress.
The damn thing.
With an annoyed grunt you can’t do anything when you get pulled backwards and you feel Astarion’s arms swiftly wrap around your waist. You try to pry them away but it’s no use.
“Let me go!” you hiss at him, struggling in his grasp but pause when you feel his lips against the side of your neck, then his tongue, it sends a shiver down your spine against your will. “Astarion, what the fuck.” you ask and you know your voice betrays your already melting resolution.
“I have to have you again.” Astarion whispers, you feel the tip of his nose rub against your neck, then trace the skin behind your ear. Your lips part at the sensation and you forget your struggle to get away from him, at least for now.
“No, I told you at the party, I’m not interested.” you try to sound firm but even you doubt that it works.
“My dear, you cannot lie to me. Your body is betraying you. I can sense it in you. Smell it on your skin.” vampire’s whisper is right against your ear and then you feel his teeth nibble on it, eliciting a soft gasp out of you.
“You don’t like hearing ‘no’, do you?” despite yourself you smile slightly and Astarion’s chuckle that’s so close to your ear sounds more guttural, almost feral in its undertones.
“No, I don’t.” another whisper that makes your body respond this time not with a shiver but with a heat within your core. You lick your lips, thinking of what to say. Despite your desire rousing you don’t want to give in, you don’t want to let him win.
“Too bad.” you turn your head so your eyes meet his for a moment, then you grab his index fingers and bend them in a way they shouldn’t.
Astarion grunts and his grip once more slips, allowing you to escape his grasp but this time you don’t even make a step away from him because the moment you let go of his fingers you feel his hand on the front of your throat, gripping firmly and bringing you back to his chest.
“Little assassin…” vampire whispers dangerously against your ear once more. “I will taste you again.”
A heartbeat-like pause and his hands leave you as if he’s releasing you. You hesitate for a moment, then attempt your escape again only to be stopped.
This time Astarion smugly laughs as he grabs the back of your dress and brings you down to the grass with one swift, strong pull. You hit the ground with your back and air gets pushed out of your lungs for a second. Next moment you see Astarion crawling on top of you.
No words are allowed to escape your lips because he kisses you harshly before you even manage to formulate a single thought to protest. Worst part is that the kiss is a pleasant one. After a small pause you realize you’re responding to his lust, your fingers grip his sides and you eagerly part your teeth to allow vampire’s tongue into your mouth.
Fuck, you didn’t plan this.
You turn your head from him.
“No, stop. I’m not doing this with you here.”
“Oh, so you would somewhere else?” Astarion responds with a smirk and you glare at him for a moment before he cranes his head down, kissing your neck slowly, pausing where your pulse is strongest under your skin. “Just give in, darling. I can hear your heart racing, you want me too, don’t you.”
His hand begins working between you both, lifting your skirts in a rush, his fingertips trailing your skin and leaving traces of heat. Astarion quickly finds the hem of your underwear and pushes his fingers underneath, pressing them against your cunt, feeling out just how aroused you are.
“So wet, so ready for me.” he teases with his lips brushing against yours and you squirm slightly when his fingertip grazes over your clit.
“That doesn’t matter, I’m not fucking you.” you once more try to sound firm but Astarion just nips at your lower lip with his teeth briefly and grins to your face.
“Let me try and change your mind then.”
You begin to ask what he has in mind but the Lord quickly pulls himself from you, throwing your skirts over your legs and you gasp when he expertly wrangles your underwear down your legs.
“Astarion, damn it!” you hiss at him, remembering where you are and that people might be around but he just flashes a scarlet glance in your direction before he takes his position between your legs, not letting you close them when you attempt to do so in protest.
But the vampire doesn’t respond. He begins by kissing your inner thigh, his lips feel hot against your skin and the night air on your throbbing cunt makes your resolve to stop him fade almost to nothing.
“You’re incredibly stubborn.” you murmur, with a blush spreading over your face and you try to crawl backwards from him, but he just follows with a smug smile until your head bumps into a tombstone – nowhere to go.
“Just don’t stab me, love. You’ll have time for that later if you’ll wish for it.” Astarion doesn’t pause, he lowers his head again, his palms caressing your hips and his lips return to pepper kisses on your inner thigh once more, trailing down with each one of them.
“I’ll consider it.” you respond with a heavy blush now coloring your face and gasp softly when you feel the tip of his tongue drawing circles on your skin, so close to where you want him most but not quite there.
Astarion’s eyes flick to you for a moment before he finally drags his tongue against your drenched folds, finishing his lick with a flick against your clit and you grasp onto his hair on instinct, letting out a loud gasp. Your spine arches in response and Astarion puts his palms on the small of your back, supporting you.
“Gods, wait…” your voice is barely a whisper and you moan again when you feel his tongue beginning to explore you, lapping eagerly at every inch of your skin. Your eyes close from pleasure and you moan softly again, not stopping him despite your words, not even trying to.
Astarion notices this and grins, satisfied that you finally gave in, knowing that once more your body is his, just as he wanted and he wants to make you beg. He knows you will because of the way he’s teasing you, because of how his tongue moves, because you grip his hair in response from the pleasure.
It feels absolutely divine. How he trails the tip of his tongue, parts your folds with it, rubs it against your swollen clit making your legs tremble and you make all the sweetest sounds for him.
Fuck.
Your orgasm builds fast at his expert ministrations to your cunt. His tongue laps up every drop of your wetness and slithers inside of you for a moment while his lips engulf your folds with hungry suction that sends a tremor through your spine. You moan, louder now, forgetting everything except Astarion between your legs, your fingers clenched firmly in his hair. And then everything stops.
Almost everything.
You again feel his tongue against your inner thigh and you open your heavy-lidded eyes, panting. You are so close, so so close, you just need a little bit more, but even in your current state you realize that’s what he wanted to do.
“Beg for it, my sweet. Beg for your release. I need to hear you beg to be mine.” the crimson of his eyes bore into you and you pause, then exhale with frustration.
Your body is shaking and you’re aching to cum. At first your mind tells you to protest, to be snippy, to be arrogant, but the promise of relief clouds your mind.
“Fuck, you’re really making me do this.” you whisper between gasps of breath, looking at him for a moment longer then lean your head back against the tombstone and close your eyes, swallowing your pride and admitting defeat. “Please, Astarion. Godsdamn you.”
You hear a low chuckle escape vampire’s lips and he pauses just enough to keep you on edge before his hot mouth descends upon your cunt once more, his tongue now focusing entirely on your throbbing clit and you whine beautifully for him as he takes you last few steps to your orgasm.
With a spasm you finally reach your bliss, your body bends from pleasure and you cry out loudly into the silent, stuffy night air. Your fingers knead his silver locks and your legs shake while Astarion’s tongue guides you through your pleasure until you’re too sensitive to continue. You grab his hair, stopping him from licking at you any further and when he obeys, your muscles finally relax.
You remain still, panting heavily and your fingers release Astarion’s hair at last. He lifts his head and you can feel him crawl on top of you. He presses his wet mouth against your lips, surprising you, but you respond to his kiss eagerly. When he pulls back you open your eyes just to be greeted with a grin.
“You’ll be mine, little assassin.” he whispers and leans to your neck. You can practically sense the hunger in him now, but you’re not in a mood to give him your blood.
You push at him, getting a narrow-eyed look from the elf and you smirk at him in turn.
“I’m not done with you yet.” you say with a raspy voice and push him off you, catching him by surprise.
Astarion looks at you with curiosity but you just push him backwards even more, making him lay on his back now and you don’t waste your time straddling him. As you do that, he helps you with the skirts of your dress and grabs your hips, guiding you closer while you work through the buttons of his pants and pull out his erection. The tip of his cock glistens with precum and you hunger to taste it but decide against it, positioning it against your tender core and fitting yourself tightly right on it.
“Fuck, you feel so good… So tight…” Astarion exhales with pleasure and begins moving your hips of you. With your palms on his stomach you begin to raise and fall, watching smugness on his face be replaced with genuine pleasure and the ever so gentle blush colors his cheeks. “Harder.” He demands and you gladly obey, feeling every inch of his cock with your walls, enjoying the sensation of nearly making him slide out before you impale yourself over it fully once more.
This time you both moan, forgetting where you are, forgetting everything. At least for a moment. Astarion doesn’t forget why he chased you all the way here though. And when he sees a moment when you’re least vigilant he grabs you firmly and tosses you on your back, pulling out in the process.
You gasp in shock but he crawls on top of you again and you pull at his hips, wanting him to fill you again. His lips meet yours in a fiery kiss and you groan slightly, annoyed he’s not burying his cock in you immediately.
“I said I’m not done.” you say with irritation and tug at his hips again, locking your ankles on his lower back, using your legs to push him even closer to you. You grasp onto his shoulders and without much resistance you push him closer still, finally feeling him slide right back into you and you gasp with relief.
Despite all his games he wants it too. His eyes are clouded from passion and his body shudders from your words and the sensation of your heat enveloping his cock with perfect tightness. Astarion gives in and pushes himself to the root forcefully now, letting lust at last to overtake him completely.
“Oh…” he exhales once he’s buried deeply inside you once more but gathers his thoughts for just a moment longer. “I know you’re not done. I know just how bad you want it.” he grins and as if to emphasize his point he thrusts into you once, making you mewl. “You want me as badly as I want you, my sweet.”
Then his lips press against yours and he begins thrusting. Quickly and powerfully, with controlled ease that is meant to work you both to your mutual ecstasy. Your fingers dig into his shoulders and you moan into his mouth when he pushes his tongue past your teeth. You don’t even notice how first drops begin to fall from the sky, warm summer rain almost unnoticeable in its beginning before it starts coming down faster.
Astarion takes a notice of it first, lifting his head and glancing up at the sky all while pumping into you without missing a beat, his panting mixing with your moans and you look up too but then back at him. He looks beautiful in this moment, and it seems despite the rain neither of you want to stop before you are done with each other.
When his eyes return to you, you pull him into another kiss only to be denied a moment later.
“I want to hear you, darling.” Astarion mutters with a grunt betraying his own pleasure and he lowers his head back to your neck, being pulled by the gluttonous desire for your blood.
“Fuck.” you exhale but then give in, moaning loudly while his hips snap against you with force and urgency and you yelp only slightly when his fangs pierce your neck, giving you discomfort only for a second or two.
You hear Astarion moan into your neck the moment he tastes your blood and his thrusts become increasingly erratic as he gets closer to his orgasm, the taste of you driving him wildly. You arch your neck for him and wrap your arms around his head, nearing your second orgasm too. Something about him feeding from you while fucking you at the same time is deeply erotic and you can’t help but to give into the feeling.
“Don’t stop… I’m so close…” you moan, feeling rain coming down harder, soaking you both and the grass around you, but that matters none.
Another moan reaches your ears and Astarion grips you in his arms firmly, pushing your body against his almost painfully, your clit brushes against his pelvis and it’s just what you needed, a couple rhythmic rubs against your swollen nub, to send you over the edge. You shout when you cum again, your body shuddering almost violently in his arms and your cunt clenching onto his cock fiercely, helping him empty himself completely within you with several uncontrolled jerks of his hips. Astarion lazily thrusts into you for a stroke or two before stopping completely and you relax in his embrace, coming down from your bliss, panting heavily.
“Astarion, hold on…” you whisper, barely able to talk, your pleasure left you dizzy but you understand one thing – he’s feeding on you far too greedily for you to remain alive if you let him continue.
Yet the vampire doesn’t react. It’s like his gluttony for your body and blood consumes him to the fullest in this moment and you begin to come out of your daze, seriousness of the situation replacing the wonderful sensation you were just basking in.
“Astarion.” you call to him again, but he doesn’t move. You feel him sucking on your blood, you hear him gulping it down and you know you have to stop him. Immediately.
Blindly you move your hand from him and grasp at the hilt of your dagger again, pulling it out of the sheath and quickly pressing it against vampire’s throat.
“Stop. Now.” you command and finally Astarion seems to listen because he freezes in spot.
It takes a moment longer for him to realize what’s going on and at last you feel his lips retreat from your skin, his fangs leaving your flesh. He exhales with a forced chuckle.
“I might’ve forgotten myself there, darling.” he lifts his head and gently moves your dagger from his throat, looking at you and noticing how serious your expression is but all you see is his lips, painted in red with your blood.
Astarion slowly licks his lips with a soft laugh and gives your mouth a brief kiss before he finally releases you from his arm and pulls out of you when you unlock your ankles. He sits on the grass, rain falling on both of you and making you both completely wet. When you sit up you notice his carefully put-up curls now weighted down by rain. It’s a lovely sight, you have to admit it.
After a moment of thought Astarion gently reaches out and grasps your chin with his fingers.
“You are not going to run away from me again, are you, little assassin?” he smiles, yet how he lost himself in your neck just earlier leaves you feeling uneasy but intrigued by him at the same time. Still, you don’t like that he persuaded you to the point you gave in. Your pride feels wounded and you just lift an eyebrow and brush his hand away, changing Astarion’s expression from content to puzzled.
He watches you as you stand up, letting drenched skirts of your dress fall around your legs, hiding the fact that his seed begins seeping down your inner thigh and you give him a long look, wondering if you should say something, maybe mention that you two should never meet again, but then you change your mind and walk away.
“Wait!” Astarion calls after you but you don’t stop. The rain muffles his struggle to get to his feet while at the same time tucking his spent cock away but you don’t hear him chasing after you.
You find your path behind the tree and among the grave markers towards the bushes where the Guildhall entrance is and pause, looking back, confirming that the vampire is not following this time. And so you don’t see him standing there in the rain, anger etched in his beautiful features and his fists clenched, his ego wounded that once more you walked away from him as if he’s a nobody.
While you quietly get through the secret passageway Astarion vows to himself – he will have you, no matter the cost. He has to have you. No one walks away from him unless dismissed.
No one.
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chocolatetittymilk · 11 hours
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someone writing for the arcana in 2024 !!!! you're my saviour <3 could i get asra with a super clingy reader? like just absolutely hanging off of him like a cat. gn reader is fine, tysm !! i also love ur blog theme, so pretty :(
hi hun! tysm for the sweet compliments and the request, you seem like a sweetheart <3 i honestly worked so hard on my theme and im still yet to be done with it ahhh
I haven’t written for asra for a hot minute but I will try my hardest to deliver! hope you like !!
This will take place after the good ending with Asra’s route! So spoilers for those who haven’t finished his route :)
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Asra adored you. Even before what had happened at the… Lazaret… Asra has always had a special part of his heart and head space just for you.
And after all that had happened between the two of you, (like you finding out what has actually happened to yourself, the plague, Count Lucio- you get the idea) something inside you changed.
You felt separated from Asra, like you had burdened him with firstly dying, and then being in catatonic states when he tried to have you remember your past memories…
It was like you had finally realized you missed him - been yearning for him. And that’s when the clinginess started.
“Asra where are you going?”
You have been following him around like a lost puppy since this morning. Like every morning.
“The marketplace.. better get your shoes on if you wanna come with, pretty.” Asra always knows that you’ll tag along with him, everywhere and anywhere. Already grabbing a basket to put goods inside.
Eyes darting around, a blush forming at the nickname rolling off his tongue. You hurriedly grab your shoes and plop down near Asra to put them on. Always near Asra.
Outside in the market was one of your favorite places due to the fact you can hold and cling to Asra without any excuse.
He wouldn’t want you getting lost, right?
“Make sure to not let go, okay love?”
Asra wouldn’t even need to tell you to hold his hand or arm, the moment you’re out the door you’re looking up at him holding onto him as you walk. Looking at him like he held the world in the palm of his hand.
He always thought you were a sweet little thing - always wanting him. You were so oblivious to it too: so wrapped up in being around him and on him to see it.
The red tint on his neck, cheeks and ears when you cling to him. His heart fastening with how close you always are to him.
Even when things are official between the two of you, he just couldn’t help himself.
Your head on his arm when you’d stop at a fruit stand, arm tightened with his when walking through alleys. Whispering in his ear about a particular item you’d forgotten to get, just to tease him a little. Sitting on his lap when sitting for lunch at a particular restaurant.
His face would be on fire when you’d try feeding him his food, slightly embarrassed but also happy at the adoration you held for him.
The locals at this point were already used to Asra’s lover always on him, it was usual. In fact, they’d come up and ask if something was wrong if they weren’t around him at all.
It was like you had to be constantly touching him. And he did not complain one bit.
.
Usually once you both had gotten back home, you’d close the shop and he’d read a book. And this would be your opportunity to be close to him for a longer period of time.
Laying on your shared bed, Asra would specifically make room between his legs just for you. Knowing full well that you’d be on him any second now.
Laying in between his legs, head on his chest: it felt like home. Drawing patterns on his chest, feeling his heart beat against your ear. Faust curled up next to you, asleep soundly while Asra flips his page every few minutes. ‘Yeah, this was home.’
“Asra…” you whisper after a few seconds, he peeks his head down at you - not taking his eyes off you for one second. “Yes pretty?”
You pause for a sec and tighten your arms around him. “Thank you.” You put simply, closing your eyes into his chest.
You can hear him put down his book slightly, “And what would you be thanking me for, hm?”
“For being with me… giving me another chance… for everything.” You mumbled, holding him a bit tighter. Not that you were scared that he’d go away or judge you, but rather just needing him closer.
Asra’s eyes softened, his heart racing just a little. ‘Oh you have no idea what I’d do for you..’
“Love.. you don’t have to thank me.” He took your hands softly, rubbing them comfortingly. “You’re never a burden… I want you always beside me, always near me.” He smiled, adoration poured into his eyes. Asra bends down to kiss your head.
“I love you, pretty.”
A blush crept its way to your face. You smiled up at him, squeezing his hand.
“I love you too, my magician.”
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my arcana masterlist: the arcana m!list
2024 © chocolatetittymilk : do not repost or translate my works anywhere. do not copy or use my works in any site.
Hope you enjoyed, honestly was so fun writing this <3
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sleepy-gee · 2 days
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☕️ stomachache - snowjanus week day 3
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☕️day 3: angst ☕️ Sejanus couldn't control much in his life, so he controlled what he could– What he ate, for example.
☕️ trigger warnings: eating disorders (anorexia/bullimia), arguments, lowkey stalking lol...
☕️ a/n: the cost of being my blorbo is becoming my punching bag. sorry sej. but anyway, as ms. gray stated, hunger is a weapon in panem.. so why not explore that?
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It was an awful, awful habit. Sejanus knew that. So why couldn’t he stop? That’s what he didn’t know.
Eating was a natural human right. Something that everyone should be able to do, free of charge and guilt. Hunger wasn’t meant to be used as a weapon, yet it was so effortlessly. It made him sick. Sick enough to not want to eat ever again. If others couldn’t eat, then why should he be able to? He was profiting off of that very fact alone. And he couldn’t do a single damn thing about it.
How was everyone so calm about this? Why was everyone so calm about this, too? Just because they couldn’t see it didn’t mean it didn’t exist. Their own ignorance and egos were causing thousands to starve. The Capitol was everyone’s government. It was supposed to keep everyone safe, keep everything in order. Yet they were letting their citizens starve. And they were okay with that? And the cherry on top of it all was that he was supposed to agree with this, fit in with these people and their ideals.
He couldn’t help. He couldn’t control anything about this. He was powerless
.But he could control what he ate.
It was twisted therapy. Destroy yourself for the sake of what? A little control? Making a pool of power for yourself because you’re tired of dipping your toes in others? It’s a lot easier said than done, though. Going against his own survival instincts and rewiring his own brain to deny one of the three essential things necessary to survive.
It felt good, though. Or so he kept telling himself. It was hard at first, changes like that always are. But after a few months? Food itself felt foreign.
The weight loss was just the cherry on top. Sejanus was a foodie. Everyone knew that, and it showed. If anything, it was supposed to be a good thing. It showed he was taken care of, he was able to eat. That was supposed to be a good thing, but after moving to the Capitol, he found out it wasn't. Pretty privilege existed, and it was potent. He'd found that out the hard way.
The rituals would kick in when life got stressful, and for a while, things wouldn't seem so bad.
It was wrong.. Very, very wrong.
But he had it under control.
So well under control, that no one noticed. He'd still accept meals and snacks.. Just throw them away later or save them for "later".
Or so he thought.
One head turned at his chaos, and that head belonged to Coriolanus Snow. The boy he considered his best friend. He knew his best friend was putting on a giant front most of the time, having his own issues with food– Another way of disposing his own– He didn't have enough, and that broke his heart. Even in the elite Capitol, people still went hungry.
...
Coriolanus was able to read the signs very, very easily and very well. From the way Sejanus would take deep breaths after climbing stairs to dipping his head for a moment to fight off the abyss after standing for too long.
Why was a Plinth boy of all people going hungry?
Coriolanus decided to conduct a mini investigation of his own– If the Plinth's were going hungry, then things must really be bad.
The investigation lasted around a month. The tricky part was he had to integrate the Plinth boy into his daily routine enough to observe him, and leave enough room to write him out when he got his results.
He started small, sitting with him at lunch when he didn't have plans with others. The first thing he noticed was that he did have food on his tray. It just wasn't a lot (for Sejanus' standards, at least). There was a sandwich of some kind that made his mouth water and a glass of water on the side. Sejanus would usually get up to refill the glass once or twice, focusing more on that than the sandwich.
The second thing he noticed was that he never ate the sandwich in its entirety. He'd take a bite or pick at it, but that was all. Did he not like it? Did he still have enough money to afford food, just not as much? Was it that disposable?
He'd fest that. On the day the Academy didn't provide lunch, he asked, "Mind if I have some of that sandwich? I'm afraid breakfast wasn't enough."
Sejanus simply shrugged and set the whole thing on his plate. "Knock yourself out.. Just mind the cheese. I know you can't stomach that stuff."
Coriolanus raised an eyebrow, taking a bite of it anyway. He nearly sighed at the taste– It was a simple beef and cheese sandwich, but it was heavenly. "You know I'm lactose intolerant? I don't think I've mentioned that."
"You did." Sejanus watched him carefully as he ate. "Once.. Guess I remembered."
Huh. Odd.
That doesn't matter, though. What does is the answer to his question– He has access to food, and just refuses it. Now the next question.
Over the next few days, if he was able to get his hands on a snack of some kind, he'd offer it to Sejanus.. Who would always decline. Every single time.
"Are you sure? It's really no trouble."
Sejanus would shake his head no with a kind, tired smile. "It's alright.. I'm still stuffed from this morning."
Funny. I heard your stomach rumbling for nearly all of 2nd period.
Denying food and lying about it, plus the fatigue..
Oh.. What an interesting turn of fates.
And the cherry on top? Running off to the bathroom after encounters where he did have to eat.
Now all that was left was the confrontation– Insider information. Wrap everything in a nice bow. The question was.. How?
A gentle conversation was for the best.. Especially considering Sejanus. He looked like he wanted to cry when he was reprimanded in the slightest.
Coriolanus decided to try one day after class. "Sejanus.. Do you mind if I talk to you for a moment?" He asked once everyone had filtered out of the room.
"Sure."
Coriolanus wet his lips. No point in beating around the bush. "Why do you never eat?"
Sejanus froze. ".. I do. Just not as much as I used to do."
"Really? I haven't seen you touch a crumb of food in the past month or so.. You deny it. And you look mortified when you do have to eat."
"It's.. It's nothing. Can we please just drop this?" Sejanus pleaded, already sounding agitated. He must've hit a nerve. Why not hit it again?
"No one likes a liar.. Come on, we're friends. Talk to me.. Why do this to yourself?"
“I can’t give you the answer you’re looking for.” Sejanus responded, tone uncharacteristically cold. Maybe that's what happens when someone reaches their breaking point.
Coriolanus laughed humorlessly. “Yes, you can. You just don’t want to. I’m getting bored of this tortured hero act, Sej. Stop acting like you have it so bad.”
“You really love to listen to yourself talk, don’t you?” Sejanus said with an exasperated scoff. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, so stop assuming that you do.” The tension in the air felt so thick, you could cut it with a knife. “You don’t know anything about me. And you don’t want to, so why bother?”
Coriolanus’ eyes darkened. “I know more than you think- I know a naive boy when I see one. I see a boy who so desperately wants something wrong in his life to explain why he’s feeling a certain way, when the truth is, his life is beyond perfect and he should just shut his damn mouth.”
“How is my life beyond perfect? You h-” He started.“
Oh, give me a break.” The boy cut him off, taking a few threatening steps closer as he spoke. “You can fool your Ma and your Pa with that sob story, but you can’t fool me. Look at you- Rescued from a lifetime of poverty, with everything you could want and more handed to you on a silver platter, and yet you still refuse to chew. Don’t think I haven’t noticed, Sejanus.”
Sejanus swallowed thickly. “I just think that-”
“Oh no, I’m not done.” Coriolanus interjected yet again. “No, I think it’s time you hear something along the lines of grow the hell up. You want change so bad? Go out. Change something. You have money. You have a powerful family name. Stop bitching and moaning like a wounded puppy and go do something with your life, for th-”
“I don’t have money. My father does. You think I haven’t tried?” Sejanus spat, voice wavering with emotion. “I can’t tell you the amount of times I’ve tried to set up a fund for the districts, or tried to maybe set up some sort of fundraiser. I have tried everything. And it’s still not enough. So excuse me for feeling a little hopeless.”
Coriolanus laughed like he had heard the funniest joke in the world. “That’s your defense, boy? Saying you did and now you’re giving up? God, you’re not good at this.. I’m trying to help you.”
“By doing what?"
“By knocking some sense into you. The world isn’t out to get you like you think it is. It’s actually working in your favor, just not the way you want it to.”
Sejanus fell quiet for a good while. Normally, this would've meant defeat or submission, but there was no grief in his eyes. Only anger- Anger for what was, and what could've been.
“You think I'm playing the broken hero? You're the one running around and trying to fix things that don't even involve you! A month ago, you wanted me dead, I'm sure of it. But now, suddenly you're in my face? So what if I don't eat? That's my choice!” He cried, tears stinging his eyes. "What does it matter to you what I do? Wouldn't it be for the best if I weren't in your way?"
Sejanus had a point.. But he refused to admit it. They were making too much of a scene. He needed to get it under control before this became the school's latest gossip. ".. Because you are my friend. I may not always show it the best, but.. I do care. And I don't like watching my friends suffer."
".. How am I supposed to trust that? Why the sudden change of heart?"
Coriolanus placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "Because I know what it's like to be hungry. And I wouldn't wish it upon anyone.."
Sejanus looked up at him, brown eyes full of tears. ".. I just don't know what else to do "
"I'll help you.. I promise." Sejanus nodded. Good. He had him back in the palm of his hand. He sealed the interaction with a hug before pulling away. "Now, let's get you back to class, hm?"
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taglist: @officialelioperlman @on-plvto @theirgayyourhonour
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sludgeguzzler · 1 year
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look i really dont mind having a pre t body with its little biological quirks but i have a limit and the limit is waking up at 4am with immense pain and a puddle of blood on my bed
#im probably most likely overhyping what t will do to my body but i cant wait till my periods stop#if they dont stop i will fr go after some way of stopping them im not kidding there is literally nothing good that i get from having them#its just. its just pain and blood and a constant reminder of how Woman i have to be. it makes me sad#like. all the good cramp medicine is like WOMAN PILL FOR YOUR SCHEDULED GIRL MOMENT OF THE MONTH [picture of a woman]#[venus symbol] [flowers]#and all pads come with th same thing too. like i get that its technically not harming anyone but please man cmon#my mood gets all janged up i cant think straight in the worst ways possible im always having breakdowns during them#and i have to deal with genuinely unbearable pain! and! a heavy flow! because my moms ovaries! are the most fucked ovaries ever!#hhg the only good thing i can think of is that if there was a death metal band of trans guys the lyrics theyd write would be sick#[hi this is me telling you im about to get a little gross so if stuff like this grosses you out uh. yeah]#like the gruesome symbolism of periods is pretty damn cool if im honest. i dunno#i genuinely really like the movements on normalizing periods and how they are not something to be ashamed of and happen with a lot of ppl#but. but.#it puts a lot of emphasis on how its a Woman thing when a lot of women (cis or otherwise) dont have them#and it excludes all the other non woman people who have them#re personal opinion but i think our image of periods really shouldnt be flowery beautiful woman moment that passes by in a blink.#i think we should talk about how it hurts and how it will suck a little too hard for some people and that#periods not always mean a symbol of feminity and fertility and other stuff (its 5am im tires) to everyone#like to me periods are misery and oain and dysphoria but i have a cis friend who sees her periods as symbols of her womanhood abd#*and like. shes not wrong but im also not wrong either#idk my head hurts and i wanna go bacm to sleep so bye#sg.txt
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