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glade-constellation · 6 months

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Breakfast and Braids

Soleil x Reader, Sunspot x Reader

Summary : This morning just happened to be the morning your carpal tunnel flared up. You’re used to pushing through it, it was common in your field of work. This morning also happens to be the morning two of your housemates step in to help.

Trigger Warning(s) : None

Rating : T, SFW

Word Count : 3736

Extra : This AU belongs to @venomous-qwille ! This was originally just supposed to be with Soleil, but Sunspot snuck his way in and I decided to let him stay. I really hope this turned out okay <3 I had to use Google Translate for any French that shows up, but I did try to look farther into what it was giving me before using it. Sorry if it’s inaccurate.

“What, pray tell, are you doing?”

The sudden presence of a voice from behind made you jump with a start. While you did have the bathroom door open to let the shower steam out, you hadn’t exactly been expecting someone to pop in while you were making use of the mirror. You only expected to be in here a short while longer anyways. An undignified yelp slipped through your lips, which was quickly followed by a soft string of curses as you watch your hair fall from between your fingers.

“Language, friend,” the voice spoke again.

You were usually a little better about your words since arriving at the Mill. Not great, admittedly, but you knew courser language triggered unwanted coding for some and was genuinely unliked by others. That was usually enough to keep you from blurting out anything too bad.

That being said, there were moments where you still couldn’t stop them from slipping out, and being jumpscared was definitely one of those moments. The growing frustration with your uncooperative hair didn’t help.

Placing a hand over your chest and leaning heavily on the sink counter, you look up into the mirror to find your most recent spook. Blue-lavender eyes stared back from the doorway in an unamused but questioning stare. “Sol,” you breathe out, “ you scared me.”

There was an impression of him lifting an eyebrow as he continued to stare at you in the slightly fogged glass. “Sincerest apologies, but I thought you were well aware of my presence since I stepped in.”

Your own brows wrinkled at his wording, almost scared to ask, “...How long have you been standing there?”

Instead of answering, Soleil simply stepped fully into the small bathroom and walked to your side. You turn to meet him as he steps up to the counter, eyebrow lifting as his silk-covered hand reaches up to softly run through your still damp locks. “You never answered my question. What were you trying to achieve with tangling your hair farther than it already was?”

The urge to roll your eyes arises, but you instead sigh heavily and drop your head into your hands. A quiet hiss leaves your lips as his fingers snag on the aforementioned tangles. “Fais attention mon ami!” Sol is quick to admonish as he gently removes his hand from your hair, “You really do need to take note of your surroundings more.” You decide not to dig yourself any farther into this hole and instead answer his previous question. With your hands over your face, though, it comes out more like mumbles to his audio receptors. The solar bot reaches up and grabs your wrists, causing you to stiffen for a moment before he continues gently moving your hands down. “Mumbling is unbecoming of you. Let’s try that again.”

“I was braiding my hair,” you try again, not meeting his gaze. Braiding your hair wasn’t hard. Usually. This morning just happened to be the morning your carpal tunnel flared up. The numbing feeling was not helping the fine motor skills of your hands, nor was the occasional tinge of pain if you moved your wrist a certain way. “The feeling of my hair on the back of my neck has been bothering me lately, and it being wet isn’t helping.”

The earlier impression of exasperation comes back when he remains quiet, but you can’t be quite sure without looking for the subtle movements of his face. You didn’t really want to do that, though. You’d always been told that your expression was easy to read, and your new housemates didn’t miss anything. You didn’t need Soleil to see the red covering your face in your embarrassment. Not that it really mattered. He was probably already aware of it.

You only move to watch Sol as he pulls back from you, eyes tracking him as he grabs a clean towel from the rack. The sound of rustling fabric hits your ears as he lets the towel unfold. At seeing you watching him, he throws the towel over his shoulder and grabs your own shoulders in his hands. The push is gentle as he turns you back towards the mirror. You feel yourself tense slightly at the looming presence suddenly standing at your back, his tall stature and the typically off-putting air around him culminating into an oddly intimidating sort of vibe. It’s not purposeful on your part, just instinct at the new unknown feeling, but it still leaves you feeling guilty as he definitely notices the movement.

You open your mouth to apologize, but only get that far as he begins massaging the tense muscles, “Détends-toi, mon cher.” The words are light, not quite a whisper and full of Sol’s usual not-quite cheeriness. Blue-lavender once again comes into your sights as you look at his expression in the mirror. It’s always a little difficult reading his emotions, for many reasons, but this look was something you really couldn’t understand. Funnily enough, something about it allowed for you to relax in his hold.

“Sorry,” you finally whisper out.

“No need for apologies,” he replies back, removing his hands to grab the towel again. “Now, let’s get this hair dry before you catch another cold.”

Fingers meet your scalp from under the cotton as Soleil tenderly begins working at the dampness. Soft but steady movements cause your eyes to slowly shut in contempt, easing you into a state of rest as you lean into the touch. You don’t realize how far you’re leaning into the touch until your back hits something solid. Your eyes fly open, slightly panicked at how he might react to you now propped up against him. Surprise hits you as all he does is freeze for a moment before he continues.

You’re not sure what reaction you were expecting. Him pushing you off his chest, maybe? A scolding? This, though, definitely wasn’t it. Your eyes track up the glass to check his expression, only to find he now looks complacent. No, there was a different word for this. This wasn’t him being smug, this was something almost soft. Content, maybe? That still wasn’t quite the word you were looking for, but it was the closest thing to what you were grasping at. Scared to be caught simply watching him, you close your eyes again and lean back into his touch.

The moment ends all too soon in your opinion, even if you knew it had been a decent few minutes. Hands retreat from your head, taking the towel with them as he returns it to his shoulder. Once free, though, his hands are quick to grab your waist. Nothing happens for just a brief second, but it’s enough for your thoughts to freeze with him. He then pushes you forward off of him and breaks whatever that fleeting moment was. Soleil gives a soft squeeze before releasing you, the look in his eyes gone as he steps back, “All done.”

Turning, you face him. Part of you wants to question what he was doing when he froze. He’d just stood there, eyes locked on the reflection in the mirror. But you decide against it. It wasn’t the only odd behavior you’d seen from him since he walked in, and you weren’t about to start an argument with him over it. Instead, you give him a smile. “Thank you, Sol.”

He blinks down at you, almost seeming to process something before his smile widens slightly. “You’re welcome.” Before the conversation can be continued, Soleil reaches past you to grab the small bag of hair supplies laying on the counter and exits the bathroom. “Come along,” the solar bot calls behind him.

“Wait, what?” You take a step back and stick your head out the doorway, “Hey, I kind of need those! What are you doing?”

Soliel stops just long enough to turn and explain before continuing on his way, “I was sent to collect you for breakfast. Sunspot is probably wondering where we are by now.”

“And my stuff? Last I checked, we didn’t need hair product to eat.”

He remains silent, leaving you to huff in frustration as you jog to catch up with him.

—— • ——

“Ah, Solly! Welcome in!”

Even if he didn’t physically show it, the mental eyeroll he gave could be felt from where you stood behind Soleil. “And to what do we owe the pleasure, Fool?” he asked as he stepped farther into the kitchen to allow you in.

Before you sat the aforementioned jester, along with Sunspot standing across the table. The android’s face was half hidden behind a bundle of something you couldn’t quite make out before it was set down. Your name slipped past his lips with a smile, “I was wondering where you might have been!”

Soft laughter came from you as you remembered what Sol had said earlier in the hall. “Hi guys,” you said with a wave, “Joining me for breakfast?”

You almost jumped when Fool suddenly slumps heavily across the bench, looking almost as if he powered down. It wasn’t until his hanging hand lifts up to his forehead that you relax. Dramatic as ever. “Sadly, I must take my leave,” he cries, “Lest the red queen have my head today.” One of his closed eyes cracked open to stare at Soleil with a growing grin. Sol visibly bristled, causing you to tense in preparation for a possible altercation, before Sunspot broke into the conversation.

“Please let us get through breakfast before starting anything. Everyone has work to be done today, meaning some of us need to eat.” The android looks pointedly towards you during his last sentence. His strained smile was enough to show his current displeasure.

Sol almost seems to imitate taking a deep breath in before his shoulders relax slightly. “Agreed,” he hisses out in strained false merriment.

Fool jumps up from his seat, giving a soft bow and a mock kiss to the back of your hand before he makes his way out of the room with a whistle. The tune isn’t one you’re familiar with but definitely something you’ve heard from him before. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Soleil track his movements with a half hidden glare before making his way to the table. You wonder if him taking Fool’s seat was a weird sort of victory celebration, or simply because it was right next to your slowly cooling food. Maybe both.

Quick to follow his lead, you sit yourself on the bench next to Sol. On the plate before you lay two cinnamon rolls, decorated with blueberries and cut up slices of strawberry. Your mouth waters as the sweet smell hits your nose. “These look incredible, thanks Sunspot,” you compliment with a smile before reaching up to grab one.

A small but sharp pain radiates from your wrist, causing you to wince slightly. Right, that. You hope that neither of the bots in the room spotted your moment of pain, but it’s quickly dashed as you spot Sunspot’s concerned look across the table. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, nothing to worry about,” you try to soothe. “Just a little carpal tunnel. I’m used to it.”

Your wrist is gently snatched up for the second time that morning and Sol mumbles something to himself in French. You want to remark something about how “mumbling is unbecoming” but, with his buttons already having been pushed moments before, you keep it to yourself. Instead, you watch as he lightly begins to press on certain parts of your hand and arm. He’s quick to loosen his thumb on your wrist when your whole arm jerks back. “Easy,” you hiss in pain, “I literally just told you what was wrong.”

Sunspot suddenly appears at your other side, softly taking your arm from Soleil’s grasp to begin his own inspection. “Have you been stretching your hands before working? Do you have a brace to sleep with? How long has this been going on?” The questions are rapid fire, but he’s quick to stop himself when he realizes.

“It really is fine guys. I usually do stretch my hands, but I’ve been a little preoccupied. Guess it just slipped my mind.” Your fingers flex absentmindedly as you speak. “The numbness started yesterday but it wasn’t terrible. Didn’t think much of it honestly. I do have a brace, I just was too exhausted last night to remember to wear it.”

Guilt stirs in your chest. You finally glance at Sunspot out of the corner of your eyes, “Sorry. I know I promised.”

He looks at you for a moment before sighing. You internally relax as he gives you a smile. A hand reaches up to move across the top of your head and rest at the back. “We’ll talk about this later, right now you need to eat.”

The imitation of someone clearing their throat comes from your right, causing you both to look up at Soleil. His eyes were locked on Sunspot’s hand for a split second before he looked between the two of you. He reaches into your bag he brought with him and lifts up the brush, “Your hair is dried, but still tangled in knots. Better to deal with those now before you forget.”

Blinking, you remember why Soleil was even here to begin with. “Oh, right, that,” you breathe out, mostly to yourself.

You feel the hand on your head run slightly through your hair before retreating. Sunspot gives a hum as he looks between your plate and the brush in Soleil’s hand. “How ‘bout this,” he proposes, “If you face me, Soleil can work on your hair while I help you eat.”

“Um, what?” you ask dumbly. It takes you a moment to realize what he was saying, a blush spreading across your cheeks, “I can feed myself, thank you.”

“This isn’t me trying to baby you,” Sunspot comments, knowing you weren’t fond of codling. He looks from you to the plate as he pulls it slightly more his way. “This is more me genuinely monitoring your health.”

“It’s better to rest your hands when you can. Otherwise it’s just going to get worse,” Soleil cuts in.

You take a moment to think as you look between your two sunny companions. Neither of them would push you if you truly didn’t want to. Well, Soleil may push, but he wouldn’t force. There would just be a possibility of more passive aggressive comments if you said no. With Sunspot there would just be disappointment. You had just talked about your promise to take better care of yourself.

Slumping in defeat, you nod your head. “Fine. Fine fine fine, we’ll do that,” you give in, causing Sunspot to give a bright smile. Turning yourself on the bench with your legs crisscrossed, you face him with your back to Soleil.

The bench groans slightly as the taller bot shifts behind you, turning to straddle it as he moves closer. Thighs press against your own as Soleil situates himself to have better access to your hair. It’s funny, you note, that his presence doesn’t cause you to tense like it did earlier. You’re able to turn your full attention to Sunspot before you as Sol begins to work the tangles out of the ends of your hair.

Pink hair bounces slightly as Sunspot sits himself crisscross on the bench as well, his knees pressing against yours. It shines brightly in the morning light coming through the kitchen window, the kind of plastic sheen that gives away its artificial nature. Pretty nonetheless. “Lift your hands, please,” he asks, placing a cloth napkin across your lap with a soft thanks as you comply. He then picks up a fork and cuts a piece off one of the cinnamon rolls, stabbing through a strawberry slice as well before bringing it up to your face. “Hopefully this is still warm enough to enjoy.”

You lean forward slightly, taking the bite into your mouth and chewing it slowly. The sweet taste of the icing and strawberry mixed with the surprisingly still warm pastry bread makes you close your eyes with a hum. Out of politeness, you swallow before speaking up, “Are these homemade?”

Sunspot nods with a grin, “Nearly everything was made from scratch.”

“I’m never getting store bought cinnamon rolls ever again,” you vow.

Laughter bubbles past his lips, seemingly infectious as you chuckle with him. “As always, just ask and I’ll make them again,” he mentioned as he cut another piece.

Serenity filled the air of the kitchen, warm in the sun’s gentle light. You and Sunspot continue to converse as you eat while Soleil continues to softly ease the tangles from your hair. At some point he moves to reach for something across the table, but returns to his almost curled position over you without a word and begins to start braiding. The numbness in your fingers is forgotten in the comfort of the feeling. Like one of those moments where the world outside of your space seems to have frozen.

Just before your last bite, a small chain of events happens. You quote an older video of a young girl saying “it’s not an airplane, it’s just a spoon”, which causes Sunspot to poke fun about airplanes not being cool enough and mimics a train with the fork in his hand. This gets a good laugh from you before it’s cut off with a yelp of surprise when something sharply stabs at your scalp. “Deeply sorry, but you really should keep still when one has pointed objects near you,” Soleil chides as he properly slides the bobby pin into your hair.

This time you do roll your eyes, knowing he can’t see your face. Sunspot shakes his head at your antics as he places the fork down. You feel your brow furrow as he gently takes your chin in hand to keep you still. “Something on your face,” he explains softly as he takes the cloth from your lap. He softly rubs at a spot just to the side of your mouth, eyes focused before he pulls back and folds the napkin, “There we go.”

You swallow at the sudden dryness in your mouth before mumbling out a soft thanks. The meal is quickly finished without any more instances, and Sunspot rises from his seat to clean your dishes. “I like the flowers, Soleil,” Sunspot says over his shoulder as he walks to the sink.

“Flowers?” you question, not able to turn your head in fear you might accidentally get stabbed again.

The aforementioned bot finishes with whatever he’s pinning into your hair before handing you your pocket mirror. Your fingers brush against the silk of his glove as you take it from him and position it to see his handiwork.

Small wildflowers stick out from the strands of the crown braid Soleil has done around your head. Vibrant purples and whites accompany the few large pink water lilies that decorate you. “Oh my god,” you breathe out. A smile splits across your face as you pivot your head to admire the work. Uncrossing your legs and throwing them over the bench, you turn to face the bot behind you, “Oh my god, this is beautiful Sol, thank you!”

Now there was that complacent look. “You’re welcome, friend,” he replies, reaching up to reposition one of the flowers. His hand drops down and his fingers ghost across your jaw. He then turns his attention to put your things back in your bag.

You clear your throat, “So, where did the flowers come from anyways?”

Sunspot turns to face you as he dries his hands, “Oh, Fool brought those in! Lovely, aren’t they?”

You see Soleil freeze out of the corner of your eyes, fists clenching slightly, but you leave him to whatever moment he’s having and look at the mirror again. They must have been the bundle you saw Sunspot holding when you first walked in the room. “They are. I didn’t even know these grew on the grounds. I’ll have to thank him when I see him again.” Sol’s hands clench a second time at the last statement.

Quiet fills the kitchen again. Bird song filters past the panes of the window. You lean slightly into Sol’s side with a sigh. Blue-lavender eyes look your way almost in silent question as he continues cleaning up.

Stopping in front of you, Sunspot drops into a crouch in front of you and softly grabs your wrist. “It would be best to let your hands rest right now,” he suggests as he massages slightly up and down your forearm.

A sigh escapes you and you slump toward him, but you give him a nod. “Yeah, alright,” you agree. You watch as the sunlight hits his hair again and give into the urge and run your fingers through the pink locks. The curls are soft, not quite real but not as plastic as you thought it would feel. “Sorry,” you pull back when you see his cheeks color, “I should have asked.”

“It-It’s fine! No harm!” He laughs nervously.

Soleil cuts in by depositing your bag into your lap. “It’s time we get started with the day,” he says as he stands, offering Sunspot a hand to help him stand. The android takes it with a thanks, smoothing down his shirt.

“Thank you again,” you call after Soleil as he exits the room, but you get no response. Sometimes, you wonder why you even bother. You then turn to Sunspot, “And thank you. Breakfast was amazing.”

“I’m glad you liked it,” he grins as he holds out his hand. You take your bag in one hand as you take his offer.

Both of you stand there for a second. His eyes are a much more vibrant blue than Soleil, you note. Striking against his warmer colors.

You give his hand a light squeeze before letting go. “I should probably return this to my room,” you say as you lift up the bag.

Sunspot gives a nod, “Right. Yeah.” He calls your name again just as you go to exit the room, causing you to turn. “Please no basement today,” he asks of you.

Frustration bubbles in your chest, but you push it down. “Got it,” you pat the door frame before leaving the kitchen. Time to go find something to occupy your time. Maybe Misuta would let you borrow a book.

#Writing of the Glade #fnaf #fnaf sb #fnaf dca #fnaf daycare attendant #gitm au #ghost in the machine au #soleil #sunspot mk1 #fnaf y/n #gitm y/n #soleil x reader #sunspot x reader

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garoujo · 1 year

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THEY WALK IN ON YOU GETTING OFF — GENSHIN IMPACT

feat : scaramouche, al-haitham, kaeya, diluc + kazuha.

♱ warnings — f!reader, teasing, a little sprinkle of degradation, cunninglingus. / note. thinking very hard about them & i had 2 add kaeya since it’s his bday ofc < 3

・✶ ｡ﾟSCARAMOUCHE

scaramouche had warned you not to touch yourself until he came home, you knew better, he’d like to think. but then the first thing he hears when he steps foot into the room is your desperate, needy little voice crying out for him as you sink into the mattress beneath you — fingers trapped between your thighs as you so desperately chase your peak.

“i need help.” you plea, a whispery, addictive sound that makes his jaw clench when his sharp eyes cut into you — there’s a dusting of pink on his cheeks and a sudden throb in his cock but you’re such a disobedient little thing.

scaramouche doesn’t say anything before he approaches you, bringing himself to your side as his fingertips reach out to brush along your cheek, gently despite the irritated expression he wears. “you dare to disobey me and then ask for my help? i thought you were smarter than that.”

you’re starry eyed at the touch and his words only seem to make you feel even warmer, burning under his touch as his hands trace their way down your skin.

you hear him click his tongue at the way you’re leaning into his palm, pretty fingers rubbing sticky circles into your puffy clit as you try to lure him closer — down to where you need him most. “hah—oh, what’s that look? are you truly this weak for me? tsk, pathetic.” scaramouche goads, smirk twitching at the corners of his lips but the bulge in his pants gives away the true effect having you spread out for him has on his body.

although he’s not one to give it to you so easily as he chuckles dryly above you — letting his featherlight touches stop just short of your pussy before it leaves you completely and he looks over you once more. “you better not stop, you were so greedy a moment ago. i’m going to make a real mess out of you.”

・✶ ｡ﾟALHAITHAM

al-haitham had been busy, doing his work as a scribe as well as finishing one of the books he’d been reading recently — you just wanted him to give you a little attention, so you decided you’d take it for yourself.

but you already feel too hot from where you’re sinking your fingers into your slick pussy, lewd squelches filling the room and fogging up your mind so thick with pleasure that you don’t realise he’s leaning in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest as his gaze stays trained on the desperate little movements that come from your figure.

“well well, it seems i’ve left you quite dissatisfied, sweetheart?” alhaitham smirks as he pushes himself up from the doorframe, the low, ragged tone of his voice makes you jump but it makes you throb all the same with his first careful step into your space. you watch as he pulls up a seat from the corner of the room, sitting at the end of the mattress, just between your thighs.

“i assume you don’t mind me taking a closer look? this is quite the show afterall.” you’re breathing hard when you feel his arms hook around your thighs, pulling you closer until you’re spread out right beneath him like a meal he’s about to devour.

but the sudden attention makes you whimper, followed by the quick press of two of his fingers as he suddenly sinks them into you — pulling a groan from the scribe before he’s leaning down to press a quick kiss against your clit with a hum. “maybe i should do something about that pretty mouth, hm?“

the look alhaitham gives you is teasing when he draws his fingers back to push them into you once more — so easily grazing them along the spots inside of you he’s able to reach so easily, digging the pleasure out of you so quickly as you feel it burn along your skin.

but the next thing you hear is the clatter of his pants as his free hand works with the belt, followed by a particularly deep thrust of his fingers that makes your fist twist in the sheets — just as his own wraps around his cock to give himself a particularly rough stroke as he groans. “matter of fact, i have something you could preoccupy yourself with.”

・✶ ｡ﾟKAEYA ALBERICH

“my oh my, what have we here?” kaeya goads as he lets himself push through the door into your bedroom, finding you in such a compromising position — fingers stuffed into your cunt as you prop yourself up onto the cushions behind you.

you’d been waiting for him coming home, but the thought of him — his cock, the way it stretches you so deliciously had you almost delirious, begging for some sort of relief with the anticipation you felt twist in your stomach.

but every step kaeya takes into your space makes your breathing hitch before the mattress sinks under his weight, letting himself kneel between your spread thighs as he sends you an almost too sweet smirk. “it seems i’ve made you wait too long. how will i make it up to you, i wonder. hm? any ideas?”

you open your mouth to answer, you do but every thought and sound dies on your tongue when he wraps your thighs around his hips — deliberately rutting his clothed cock into your bare cunt before you even have the chance to answer him as he coo’s. “none? oh that’s a shame, it truly is.”

kaeya’s grinning down at you when he lets himself curl over you, lips grazing along your jawline as he rocks himself into you — grunting at the way you’re already soaking through his slacks as he throbs against you. “although, i could suggest a few.”

you know what he’s going to say as your mouth opens to let his name drips from your lips, your hands grabbing at his shoulders as you try to meet every desperate thrust of his hips with your own — chasing the pleasure and the feel of him you’ve longed for all day. but then you feel him press a kiss against your cheek as his movements slow to languid, long thrusts of his hips before his breathless croon of a laugh rocks through you. “if you’re willing to listen, that is? let me hear you say it.”

・✶ ｡ﾟDILUC RAGNVINDR

diluc had been doing some extra shifts in the tavern with how busy it had been recently and you’d missed him, so you thought this would be one of the fastest ways to get his attention. so you wait, until later in the night when you hear him return home to you, his footsteps stuttering when you let a breathy call of his name fall from your lips.

“archons..” he breathes lowly as he lets himself stand in the doorway, you can almost see the way the mere sight of you makes his cock twitch in his slacks — flush across his cheekbones as his hooded gaze sweeps over you.

“my apologies, it seems i made you wait.” diluc grunts as he takes another careful step, shrugging off his jacket that he suddenly feels too warm under before he rests beside you. his first touch is against your cheek as he leans over you, pressing his lips against the skin like a wordless little im home before hes pushing closer.

“you’re beautiful.” he sighs, desire thick in his words as he works off the rest of his clothes — his want for you evident in his movements as he all but rips them off, his eyes never once leaving the press of your fingers into your pussy as you cry for him.

it feels like it’s been too long when diluc finally crawls over you to kiss you, mouth moving desperately with yours as you feel his cock smear pre-cum against your skin — cutting through your folds as you both gasp and grind at the touch, chasing more of eachothers touch as he grips at your hips.

you’re intoxicating, he thinks as he pulls back to look over you beneath him — chest heaving with every deep breath he takes as he keeps you pressed to the mattress. he’s so enamoured by the way you’re rubbing your slick folds along his cock, making him glisten with every needy thrust until he’s letting himself rest just short of your hole. “oh, how i’ve missed you. if you will, allow me to show you, hm?”

・✶ ｡KAEDEHARA KAZUHA

kazuha had went out to run some errands, granting you some alone time where you suddenly found yourself having a particular itch you needed to scratch. although you didn’t consider the fact he’d be home early, maybe he missed you a little more than he thought, not that he cares when you already look all pretty and spread out for him coming home.

“this view is breathtaking, i could watch it all day.” kazuha breathes from where he watches you, a soft sort of smile on his face as he watches the way you jolt to blink up at him — fingers resting between your thighs as you halt the circles you were drawing around your puffy clit.

kazuha wastes no time in approaching you as he sighs dreamily, fingertips reaching to squeeze around your thighs as draws closer — dropping himself to his knees at the edge of the bed before he urges you to turn to face him. “but i guess you could call me greedy for wanting to truly have you, my love.” you can feel his breath fan over your folds as he speaks, making you shudder as his eyes drop to gaze at you.

“maybe it’s from being out at sea, hah— or maybe you’re just irresistible.” he hums as he lets his face dip between your thighs, pressing kisses along your pussy as your thighs hug around his cheeks — urging him closer as he drinks up the very taste of you he finds himself craving now.

kazuha was an expert with his mouth and you’re already wound up tight from your own movements, back arching as he lets his tongue draw mindless shapes along your clit. he’s rolling the muscle over the swollen little bud before he closes his lips around it, suckling lightly with a pleased hum as his own eyes roll back. “oh how i’ve longed for my taste of you.”

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut #kaeya x reader #kaeya smut #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #kazuha x reader #kazuha smut #diluc x reader #diluc smut

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oxygenbefore1775 · 5 months

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winter time makes zeke's glasses fog up

➼pairing: zeke x reader

➼cw: fluffy fluff (as fluffy as it can get with zeke), could be canonverse cuz its ambiguous

➼wc: 1,5k

➼a/n: hoho im on the roll, winter gives me strength; divider by @/benkeibear

Frost stubbornly clings to your clothes even as you enter the warm shelter of your house. The air surrounding you is still fresh and crisp, a pleasant feeling safe from its biting cold.

Shaking the snow off your boots, you do a rush job of unlacing your shoes with your very much stiff fingers to escape into the saving warmth of the room.

“The next time you get the bright idea to go for a walk in the snow, be so kind as to check the forecast beforehand,” your voice doesn't betray any annoyance with Zeke, not because it isn't there, but because it boiled out nearly an hour ago. The relief of finally being home is too overpowering for you to muster up irritation all over again. “Suggestion for a suggestion box, you know?”

As you decide to make your way to the kitchen, a line of outer clothing forms behind you. The snow, stuck to the fibers, already melts in the high temperature of the room and is bound to soak your clothes should you not hang them out in front of the heater, yet this barely makes it into the list of your current worries. All you want now is a cup of hot tea, coffee, cocoa - whatever the cupboard holds at its disposal, it just needs to be scorching hot to warm you from the inside out.

You can almost discern him huffing at your proposal - either that or it can be a shadow of laughter. For all you know, he’s found the visual of you waddling through the snow as the blizzard raged on quite amusing. Mayhaps it’s been his plan all along, to drag you out outside just to revel in the sight of you struggling against the elements.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” he answered in kind, stomping his feet a bit too thoroughly to get rid of the snow. “As we both know, I was sitting inside the whole time and mocking your misfortunes.”

Well, cold certainly hasn’t dulled his poignancy.

With a counter-quip dancing at the tip of your tongue, you turn around to face him - only to see nothing but the snow powdering his form. An unbidden smile graces your lips at the sight of this second layer of clothing, dusting it with white frost. Even his hair and beard aren’t safe from the fluffy flakes sticking to them, maybe even more so than other parts of his body. After all, he can always take off the outer layers covered in snow just like you’ve done a moment ago, hair and beard - not so much.

Too bad he can't see you approach, a spark of endearment pooling in your eyes. His glasses fogged up the moment he stepped into the house.

“Look at you,” you half-tease half-flatter, holding up a finger to the flushed tip of his nose. “At least the weather treated us equally shitty.”

Your comment falling on deaf ears, he promptly rejects your touch by brushing off your hand. Unlike you, Zeke actually has enough decency to undress in an orderly manner and put his clothes on a hanger instead of the floor. An impressive fit, considering the partial blindness he is currently experiencing.

As he bends down to unlace his shoes, you can't help but laugh at the way he's peering over his glasses, desperate to find the knots to untie. Knowing full well how unwelcoming he is to your touch, let alone affection, you nevertheless have the audacity to reach down to ruffle his hair still powdered in snow. Most of the snowflakes you shake off shower the floor around you two, with some landing on his lenses. Still, he says nothing to repel you - perhaps he's staring daggers at you, but you wouldn’t be able to see them behind those glasses.

Maybe it’s the recent cold leaving you wanting for more spice (as if barely getting out of the blizzard hasn’t been enough), but you feel brave enough to crouch down beside him. Eyes fixed at his brows he’s been furrowing ever since you approached him. Evidently, his inability to watch you is quite unnerving to him.

“Why don’t you take them off for a second?” you suggest with a smile, already reaching your hands towards the metal frame, “I can even be so gracious as to clean them for you.”

Before you can though, he smacks your hands away. Not hard, but assertive enough to make his discontent with your ill-conceived action known to you. Doesn’t mean that it stops you from smiling at him. It’s quite a challenge to get your point across if the most expressive feature on your face is now reduced to a pair of foggy circles.

Standing up, probably to get away from you, he crosses his arms over his chest as he scoffs at your sudden bout of cheerfulness. “Hands off my glasses. I know you too well not to expect you to leave a smudge on the lenses. And guess who would be the one to wipe it off?” The way he crinkles his nose at you fails to deter you and if anything does the opposite as you now want to tease him even more. “Just don’t touch them, they'll get cleared up in a moment.”

With that, he attempts to push past you, but you've already decided to torment him relentlessly, sensing his susceptibility to it today. Having caught a glimpse of his irritation, you now crave to witness it in full display. And here you thought that it would be the other way around today.

You stand in his way, a complacent grin plastered across your face and eyes burning bright with challenge - not that he can see it anyway. Contrary to his reassurance, the glass lenses don’t show even the slightest hint of clearing up, if anything, they’ve gotten cloudier ever since.

The annoyance in his posture is palpable as you press your palms against his chest in a feeble attempt to prevent him from going away. Lucky you - he puts up with your schtick just the right amount for you to get away with this.

“Come on, we both know that you don’t really need them,” you rebuke in a soft tone, reaching for his glasses again.

This time he lets you, although very reluctantly. Maybe the pros of giving in to your whim outweigh the cons of being hounded with your nagging should he refuse your touch.

“Come on,” you nudge further and he relents, bowing his head ever so slightly to grant you more access.

The metal frame feels cold as you grab it, and with an awkward, not-so-smooth motion, you slide the glasses onto his head. Meeting his gaze isn’t something you anticipate so the sight of his blue eyes staring back at you catches you by surprise.

Now, his eyes stand out even more against his features, rosy from the cold. It’s been quite some time now since you’ve been given an opportunity to look at them up close, let alone without the barrier of the lenses. Even the peevishness he is trying so hard to convey to you through the gaze alone is unable to obstruct the clarity of their color, as fresh as the winter sky.

Again, you send him a curt smile in hopes he responds in kind. Only he doesn’t budge at this display of sentiment. He must be very cross with you to warrant such a lack of positive reaction then, evident in the way he purses his lips and quirks his brow at you, looking forward to seeing your whim to subside sooner or later.

“Maybe I don’t mind a stroll in a blizzard every now and then.” As you muse to yourself, your fingers delicately trace the space where a subtle blush dusts his features. “If it means seeing you like this.”

Just as you're poised to playfully tap his nose, he unexpectedly leans forward, stealing a quick peck on your lips. As often happens, especially when he isn't careful (just like a moment ago), the coarse hairs of his beard prick your chin. You recoil instinctively, fingers reaching to your face. Before you can say something, your brows knitting together in understandable confusion, he shoots you a smirk. Now it’s his turn to flick you on the nose.

“This,” he declares, while scanning your features, “is my rightful compensation for having to endure your obnoxiousness earlier.”

Even as he utters those words, not a hint of irritation darkens his tone. Sliding the glasses back on his nose, he shoots you a grin before walking past you - the lenses have already cleared up enough for you to notice a glint of complacency shining in his eyes.

Well, if this is the price for you to be insufferable then who would you be as not to accept this generous offer, you muse to yourself as you follow him into the kitchen.

#jikuuu #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #zeke #zeke yeager #zeke jeager #zeke x reader #zeke fluff #zeke yeager x reader #zeke jeager x reader #zeke oneshots #aot oneshots

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aealzx · 9 months

Text

“Leonardo.”

A female voice that Leo had heard before in recordings addressed him with a single word greeting. She sounded pleased. Unusual considering the past circumstances. “Augustine,” Leo responded casually, willing the rest of the fog to leave his brain. He had a lot of questions, but none that he wanted to ask her. Other than something to further annoy her. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Augustine’s eye twitched, and she crossed her arms despite her smile never falling. “You speak as though this is your home, and I’m the visitor,” she pointed out.

Leo could only grin slightly, having achieved his goal. “Well, it’s just been so easy for me to come and go as I please.”

Now the smile fell into a frown. But just for a moment before she forced it back. “And yet you’ve never once stopped for a proper chat.”

“You know how it is. I’d hate to pull you away from your work. I’m just it’s been taking up a lot of your time,” Leo jabbed again, his head clear now and mind already examining where he was. Simple restraints, they had taken his weapons, and bags, but nothing else. He could probably get out of this.

“...You’re a daring creature to continue to antagonize me despite your current position…” The smile had faded again, and Leo could tell Augustine was tired of playing the game of banter they had been engaged in. Eventually she shrugged it off, memory of recent revelations lifting her mood. “No matter. Despite your attempts to prevent my work from progressing I relish to inform you that it has all been in vain.” Her phone was slipped from her lab coat pocket, and after a few taps she held the screen up for Leo to see. “I’m not nearly proud enough to conceal the fact it was an accident. I was merely attempting to capture you four by targeting mutant turtle signatures with a mystic influence. And while I caught one, these other two gems decided to… do me the favor of proving my hypothesis true.”

The first video Augustine showed him caused Leo so suck in a hissed breath, a much too small mutant turtle trapped on the floor and crowded by people in surgical coats. Needles and blades in their hands, smaller than what he’d seen in person with Bishop, but no less infuriating. And then she swiped her screen across to switch to a different, even smaller mutant turtle that was blessedly still asleep in his fetters. “Augustine…,” Leo growled, a warning tone saturating his voice and his brows furrowed.

“Oh don’t get so worked up. I don’t plan on killing them. I need them alive to track how they adjust to this dimension. How else am I supposed to confirm it’s safe? You and your brothers refuse to answer my questions afterall,” Augustine chided, chuckling in bubbling excitement. She was pleased to see that the first subject seemed to be calming down. Either because he realized the futility of his struggle, or because her employees had sedated him she wasn’t sure. But she’d rather not have another incident like with Evangeline. “And you, of course, are my constant for comparison. I anticipate their biological structure is much more similar to you than to humans. Obviously. So as a native of this dimension I’ll be keeping you for my tests as well. But as for your brothers…”

She was gloating. And Leo knew she was, but he was still curious when she trailed off, her phone vibrating in a silent call distracting her and earning a slight frown before she answered it, turning away from her captive. “Yes?” She sounded irritated, listening to the quick response and narrowing her eyes as she was informed of their intruders. “Tch…. Gas them,” she spoke after a moment to consider her decision. “Yes, I’m sure. Once they fall unconscious we can capture them and revitalize them, to a point. But if they ended up dying then it is no loss. I still have the others. Make sure the frontlines have the portable nullifiers as well.”

Leo had to keep from smiling when it sounded like his brothers were already there to rescue them all. They had acted fast. That was good. And it sounded like they were further in the building than Augustine had expected. But her response was definitely concerning, and only motivated Leo’s resolve to escape on his own. When she ended the call and half turned back to him he decidedly kept his expression neutral.

“Well, it seems your brothers have skittered their way inside sooner than expected. So you’ll have to excuse me while I deal with them elsewhere. Be good and stay silent, or I may have to sedate you,” she ordered, turning to leave the room without waiting for a response.

A raised brow was all Augustine got from Leo as he waited for the door to hiss closed. Then after a count of ten, or actually eight, he started twisting his hands, testing the tightness of the restraints on him. They hadn’t even bothered to take his tactical sleeves off. If he could just slide his hand through and slip one of them off, then getting the other off would be easy. Just squish his thumb in close to his palm, shift his weight as much as he could to let gravity help, nevermind the sharp pain building in his joint.

A series of soft clicks abruptly released all tension in Leo’s limbs, dropping him to the floor where he caught himself on the balls of his feet and fingertips. That was odd. Leo didn’t think he’d triggered anything that would disengage the restraints. And it was increasingly suspicious when the same door Augustine had left hissed open once more. Suspicious, until the protocol announcement coming through the intercom in the hallway was overridden by a familiar code.

“Flight 182, this is ground control, you are clear for landing.”

April. Leo thought, breaking into a wide smile as the redirected airplane chatter fizzled out. So this definitely wasn’t something Augustine was doing to manipulate him, or the others. Running out of the room, Leo gave one of the cameras a wave and a smile, just in case Mom April could see him, and continued his escape down the hallway bathed in red and white lights.

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Previous Next

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I wasn't sure what to draw for this one, but inevitably frog Leo won X'D

#my art #tmnt 2003 #tmnt crossover #rise + 2003 crossover #cross dimension kidnapping #03 Leo #writing #fanfic #long post

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queerfanfiction · 1 year

Note

okay okay okay okay, so. your requests are open, right?

how about a larissa weems fic? the night has already fallen and shy reader want cuddles with larissa but she's still working. r mustered up courage to ask for it, and larissa just need a bit more time to finish what she's doing. r then agrees, and waits up until the night has gone deeper. r decides to just try to sleep because larissa is still deep in work, and that's when larissa eventually notices the time. what happens next is up to you (please make it fluffy)

of course, only if this is alright with you. thank youuu!

- ♡

Guardian Angel

Prompt is shown above. :)

word count: 2.2k includes: nightmares, scars, ptsd discussion, domesticity, fluff

The sky twisted and darkened overhead while a breeze rustled your hair and gave you goosebumps down your arms and legs. A nervous energy pulsed through the air. No one was around, even though it seemed like someone was just in the corners of your vision. Your breathing quickened, as you began to feel as if you were being watched. You moved across the empty streets, begging for anyone to appear and comfort you. Echoes of your footsteps and breathing rang out, bouncing against the vacant, crumbling structures.

You slump against a broken down, dusty car to bury your face in your arms, overwhelmed with emotion. After a few moments you peek between your fingers at a nearby pothole filled with water that began to ripple. A rhythmic tremor had begun to erupt below you from deep within the earth. Was something huge crawling up from within the ground? Were these impact tremors from something unseen further down the horizon?

You weren’t able to consider a better answer, because suddenly you could not see. The darkening purple and navy sky spilled black. Or maybe your own eyesight went? The only thing that tethered you to the previous moment was feeling the asphalt against your thighs beneath you. A shiver trailed down your spine as a crack of lightening sparked through the sky, illuminating the scene before you. Fog rolled in when you weren’t looking, and it seemed that each flash of light revealed more and more shadow creatures moving in fast pace closer to you.

In a panic and hoping your mind was playing tricks on you, you shut your eyes tightly. After a shaky breath, you opened them once again and saw red. Your torso was stained with thick, dark liquid, and you fingered the area—blood.

You awaken with a fright, letting out ragged breaths. Sitting up allows air to reach your lower back where sweat is pooling against the bedsheets. Your fingertips instinctively outstretch to cover the scars on your stomach.

Another nightmare.

You swallow hard as you attempt to regulate your fluttering heartbeat. You had been doing so well staving off the night terrors recently. You can’t help but be a little disappointed in your progress. You glance to your side to see the bed freshly empty. Just as your heart rate began to slow, you felt it jump seeing Larissa’s side empty. You check the clock. 3:16am.

Before you could flip the covers away to investigate her absence, she rounded the corner and almost spilled the drink in her hands. “Jesus” she exclaims before quickly controlling her voice, adding a measured smoothness to it before speaking again. “My dear, you’re up.”

“I was worried you were having another night terror. Here.” Larissa gently hands off a warm cup of golden milk to you before settling back into the bed.

You immediately felt your shoulders relax and your jaw unclench at her company. With a slight shutter, you let out a “Thank you” before bringing your lips to the edge of the cozy drink.

Larissa had gotten into the habit of bringing you calming drinks or snacks when you were unsettled or having a panic attack. Mostly she’d bring sleepy time or chamomile tea, but when she sensed the nightmare was particularly awful, she would make the tumeric drink currently before you. You don’t think either of you ever spoke of the distinction, but you were grateful that she was never wrong in how to succor you.

One night early into your relationship when you were having trouble sleeping, tossing and turning about the bed, Larissa warmed golden milk for you. She didn’t know that you hadn’t had the drink since you were a child or that it provided such comfort to you. Somehow she naturally prepared it; she was always this way. The act made you feel immediately indebted to her kindness and thoughtfulness. It seemed to flow from her so freely.

You’ve never had a partner be so attentive and understanding to your PTSD. Usually your needs were considered exaggerations or inconveniences—something “extra” to deal with or put up with begrudgingly in order to love you. But never with Larissa.

She would hold you close against her and stroke the hair by your temple while lightly peppering kisses against your forehead. You would snake your arms around her torso and press your face into the crook on her neck. Occasionally she would hum, and sometimes you would too alongside her. Not only was this a tender moment you two shared, you knew it was good for you in more ways than one. Humming stimulates the vagus nerve and plays a key role in activating the parasympathetic nervous system. You knew that, but you swore there was something about Larissa’s distinct, saccharine scent and powdery soft skin that propelled your recovery.

—

It was possible that as the anniversary of receiving your scars grew nearer, an uptick in your night terrors occurred. The past week had shown more restlessness, and you decided to lean on Larissa a bit more. You were reluctant to do so, but she kept insisting you deserved to be taken care of the same way you often supported her. Thus, you had been asking her to wind down with you during the night.

You usually thought Larissa’s dedication to her work was endearing. Sometimes she might bring a laptop into bed and rub your back while scrolling through emails. Other times she would try to leave thoughts about work at the door, which was also nice to experience. Being at the center of Larissa’s attention was something you weren’t sure you could ever tire of; it felt addictive. More than that, though, domestic life with her was everything you could hope for.

Larissa’s home life growing up was not as positive as her demeanor would suggest, and your own family life was a trash fire. Claiming domesticity in your own ways together seemed rather revolutionary considering.

However, as much as you admired her work ethic, lately she has been zoning out and hyperfixating on her perfectionism. One email often turned into two or eight and needed to be written out flawlessly in tone and grammar. Other duties that typically needed more brainpower, like securing bands and caterers for the Rave’N, salary negotiations with faculty, curriculum changes/proposals, and meetings with the school board, started taking up for of Larissa’s free time.

As a boarding school, there really was no such thing as clocking out or leaving work at work. You understood that. It’s one of the things that made you fall in love with Larissa, even though she scoffed at the idea when you disclosed it. Her earnest desire to propose up outcasts as a force of good, as well as bridge our world with the normie world, was so powerful to experience. You loved seeing the looks on others’ faces when Larissa came to save the day in the Jericho town square or knew exactly what to say during a debate between students.

She was Nevermore.

Tonight, though, that was the problem. You’ve been having a hard week. You had been feeling fatigued, had a lack of appetite, were breaking out in acne, everything that signaled your body was under too much stress.

Larissa had been buzzing with misplaced adrenaline too, since she was in “fix it” mode over an incident with some normie and outcast kids at Pilgrim World over the weekend. You wondered if she had stopped to take in a full breath—one that reached deep into her diaphragm and provided relief and endorphins to her brain.

She had missed dinner together. You two were going to make a new colored pasta recipe using yellow and green dye, hoping to infuse it with lemon and herbs. As the time passed, it took everything in you to just order something and bring it to her office instead. Otherwise you weren’t sure if you two would be eating that evening. Your anxiety flared with the impromptu social interaction of ordering and picking up the food—something you were not expecting for your night in together.

When you dropped off dinner, Larissa had promised work would be done soon. …but that was hours ago.

You entered her office in the cutest and comfiest oversized shirt, one she adored on you since it hung down to your knees. With the sweetest voice you could gather, you tiptoed towards her desk to ask her to come to bed and cuddle you. You knew it would be good for her to rest her eyes from the screen. You read somewhere that people looking at screens for a long time should consider something called the 20-20-20 rule to prevent eye strain. For every 20 minutes someone looks at a screen, they should look at something 20 feet away for 20 seconds. It seemed like a small exercise that wouldn’t be too awful to complete, but you were sure she had forgotten any hope to do it this week.

After mustering up the courage to ask for her to help you get to sleep, she agreed and reassured you that she would meet you in the bedroom.

Satisfied with the knowledge that security and safety was imminent, you decided to lay and prepare the space. You put on Calm’s washing machine sound; having white noise of some sort always seemed to help you settle down. After you had whispered something about how nice hearing her work in the background was, Larissa had bought you a lifetime subscription to the app so that you always had something to listen to if you needed it.

You attempted to relax your breathing, not sure why you were feeling panicked. You told yourself to accept it and try to breathe into it. The body’s response to trauma has been something you’ve been unpacking in therapy the past couple weeks. You typically turn to avoidant behaviors, and your therapist suggested utilizing somatic therapy techniques instead.

As you considered how far you’ve come in your recovery, you stretched your various limbs in ways that were meant to discharge the tension you felt. Intellectualizing your stress and panic helps, but you were informed that moving through and feeling your emotions head on and diffusing them would be more beneficial.

That’s why it was such a big deal that you asked for help in getting to sleep. You felt on the verge of tears and needed the comfort of Larissa’s arms to be able to fall apart, to feel your feelings. You needed a safe space to let loose.

—

More and more time passed. You knew Larissa was trying her hardest to wrap up her work, but there was a nagging feeling in your stomach that wondered if she had forgotten you.

Trying not to let it bother you, you decided that you should try to sleep. Your arm reaches out to shut off the marble side lamp while your other hand pulls the duvet up around you, like a protective barrier.

Not long after you resigned to sleeping alone, Larissa notices the time.

Larissa had been trying to cram as much work as possible into the last few hours so that you two could have an uninterrupted sleep. No worries about writing down a suggestion in the middle of the night on the note pad she kept nearby and no mental rephrasing of emails in her head as she lay beside you. In fact, she had been trying to get a head start on some of the other items on her agenda so that the upcoming nights were solely devoted to you. However, she didn’t expect the time to slip away and betray her like this.

She rushes to shut off her lights, computer, and fireplace. Larissa slips into the dim room, with only the light of the moon poking through half drawn curtains illuminating the path to the bed. She removes her clothes, feeling how her skin aches for freedom. Mentally she chastised herself for being late and worried her lip at whether or not you were cross with her.

A soothing whisper melts around you, caressing your cheek with its softness, “I’m so sorry for not coming sooner, my love.”

You feel the weight of her shift into the bed. Suddenly her warm arms are finding their usual place at your back and sides. With a tired voice, you roll around and press into the taller woman’s body, mumbling, “S’okay.”

Your hands clutch onto her as she says, “It’s not, but I am here now and plan to make it up to you.” At this promise, you feel her arms begin to rock you back and forth. Her face begins to nuzzle the top of your head as you two sway.

Larissa’s lips kiss your hair while she gently lets out a “shh” here and there. After a few minutes, she isn’t sure if your even breathing means you have drifted off to sleep or not. She pulls back slightly to gaze onto the face before her, taking in all your beauty, grace, and strength.

“I am in awe of you, little one.” Her long fingers tuck hair behind your ear as she continues, “Every day I am grateful to be met with your existence and your selfless love.”

You hear her whispered confessions and swell with warmth, knowing when sleep momentarily claims you that you will be protected. Larissa resumes, unsuspecting of the weight and solace her words have on you, “I love you and will always be here for you.”

#thank you for being patient dear anon!!#i know this took FOREVER #larissa weems x reader #larissa x reader #principal larissa weems #request #requests #not proofread #guardian angel #gwendoline christie #larissa weems #ptsd #anon #fanfic #will also post to ao3

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chloessleepystories · 8 months

Text

Chocolate Fog

Mind control, Drugged, Male/Female, Male Dominant

This was sparked by a patron's three-word prompt: Airplane. Eyes. Chocolate.

***

The setting sun was glaring through the little airplane window, so Amber, squinting, lowered the shade halfway. She was a pretty white girl in her early 20s, blonde, with a thin sweater stretched over generous breasts. Her seatmate had noticed them – noticed her beauty – but hadn't been creepy about it, and she appreciated that. They were only an hour into their 4-hour flight, and she didn't want to feel creeped out the whole time.

He seemed like a gentleman. Older man, with dusky skin and a trim white beard. Dr Suresh or something like that, he'd said, with just a hint of an accent, as he'd smiled and exchanged pleasantries before takeoff. She got a warm feeling from him – partly from his nice smile, partly from his rich, deep, soothing voice, but mostly from his eyes – they sparkled with warmth and mischief, and there seemed to be golden flecks in those kindly, chocolate-brown eyes.

The snacks and drinks trolley was coming down the aisle. She found she was really looking forward to that little packet of peanuts. She pulled down the little tray, moving her paperback to the empty seat beside her. How fun air travel was! And how cool that the flight wasn't fully booked, so she had room to spread out. Dr Suresh had spread out too – he'd laid a small case on the seat between them when he first sat down. So that was nice – a shared space, but also a buffer.

She ordered her peanuts and a Diet Coke from the nice stewardess.

"There you go. And for you, sir?"

"A scotch and soda, please. Neat."

"That's all?"

"That is all. Thank you. Oh – a blanket, perhaps, when you have the chance."

Amber leaned over, once the stewardess had moved on. "No peanuts? I think the peanuts are my favorite part. For some reason, peanuts on a plane just taste better than peanuts anywhere else!"

He chuckled in his throat, as she giggled. "This is true. Perhaps someone should do a study as to why. Me, I do not need them, for I bring my own snacks." He patted the small sample case between them. "The finest chocolate bars no one has heard of – yet. New, from my company."

"Wait – you make chocolate?? That's awesome! What are you, Willy Wonka?" He laughed again at her little joke. She liked his laugh. "Wait a second, I thought you said earlier you were a scientist?"

"This is indeed true. I am a scientist," he said, and his eyes twinkled. "There is a lot of science that goes into making good candy. Did you know this?"

He was already opening the case, so she decided he didn't mind talking about it. "So what's special about it?"

The bars were packaged more like an extra thick Hershey bar than a Snickers or 3 Musketeers – a dark-brown sleeve around a foil wrapper. The sleeve said "Chocolate Fog."

"Our chocolate is made from a very special bean just recently discovered deep in the Amazon rainforest," he said in his rich, melodic voice. "Its flavor is unlike any other kind of chocolate previously tasted outside of Peru. In our labs, it goes through a special process designed to enhance its unique properties, until we arrive at what I believe is the best chocolate bar ever created."

He peeled open one end of one bar to show it was segmented. He broke off a chunk and held it out. "You will have a taste, and you will agree, yes?"

Well, how could she refuse free chocolate? She popped the thick square in her mouth, and her eyes lit up at the explosion of taste on her tongue. "Mmmm! It's so rich, and ... nutty? But also there's a softness, like ... almost a little nougat in there?"

"That is what gives it its ‘fog,' I believe," he murmured. "That airy quality."

"It's amazing!" she said, and drooled a little speaking around a mouthful of chocolate. "Could I ... Could I have a little more?"

"You may have the whole bar, dear lady," he said, and the golden flecks in his eyes sparkled as he smiled. "I have plenty more ..."

Half an hour later, the plane interior was much darker. The sun had finished setting, and people were dozing, or watching movies with their headphones. Only a few overhead pinpoint lights lit up the interior gloom.

Amber had a tummy full of chocolate. She'd finished the bar in a surprisingly short time, and had been allowed to devour a second too. Now, she leaned back in her seat, feeling the gentle rocking of the plane and hearing its dull roar, and feeling ... lulled. Lulled into a repose.

Lull, lull, lull. What a funny word, she thought. Lol. Lull. Lulllllled ...

She looked over at Dr Suresh, with a dopey smile and lidded, glazed eyes. "Thasss so good ..." she whispered. "Bess chocklit ever ... It makes me, like, happy ..."

The chocolate taste coated the inside of her mouth. It felt like was coating her brain, too, which was sluggish. Thoughts were moving slowly through the rich, chocolatey fog in her head.

"I am very glad to hear that," said her seatmate. "You look like you are enjoying it thoroughly."

He raised his armrest and, moving his sample case and the blanket he'd gotten from the stewardess, slid into the seat beside her.

"I am always interested in learning more about the special properties of these special beans. So I do enjoy finding more test subjects. Tell me – and please be honest, this is for posterity – how do you feel?"

She giggled, quietly. "I feel ssoooo goooood ..." she whispered. "Like, rosy! Like no worries, no stress, all the tension I was feeling in my body that I didn't even know I was carrying, has melted away! Like every cell in my body has gone on a happy lil vacation!!!"

"Well, that does sound delightful," he said, making a few notes on a small pad.

"Whadid you ssay was in there?"

"A mild sedative to slow the limbs, dopamines and opioids that produce a gentle euphoria, similar to being pleasantly intoxicated. Some components of the bean that inhibit activity in the prefrontal cortex and make you highly suggestible, that we have ... enhanced. And of course some pretty damn good chocolate."

He smiled, and his teeth seemed to shine in the dim light of the plane interior. She could see his eyes glittering, almost like a cat's.

"... Huhh?" she slurred. There was a bit of chocolate-brown drool at one corner of her mouth. She seemed to be having trouble focusing on him.

"Now," he went on. "Here's my question. I know the chocolate makes you happy. Makes you dopey. And it sometimes can be addictive. What I don't know is ..." And he leaned closer. "Does the chocolate make you horny?"

She blinked, and focused a little bit, looking deeply into his eyes. "H-horny?"

"Yes. You can feel it now, can't you? You can feel the rich, melting pleasure coursing through you, from your tongue up to your brain, and down through your whole body ... Melting away your inhibitions, covering your objections with flavor and pleasure." She was captivated by his eyes, dancing and sparkling. She hardly had to listen to his words. "The chocolate fog fills your whole body, making your nipples erect, yes? Your tummy tingle. Your arms and legs are like lead, heavy with the weight of their happiness, and your pussy ... oh, your pussy is singing, and buzzing, drinking in the rich, chocolatey heat. It's getting so aroused, so needy. Why, if you think about it – and it is hard to think, isn't it? – but if you think about it, you can feel your whole body, and all your mind, melting into your needy, foggy pussy. If only you could lift your arms, you would be desperate to pinch your nipples. Desperate to rub your clit. As it is, you can't help but squeeze your thighs together, around that heat, that aching need ... Isn't that right? You're squeezing right now, aren't you?"

She couldn't look away from his eyes. She could barely blink. Her eyes were watering. She nodded. Her whole body was consumed with hunger – no longer for chocolate, but for sex. For carnal pleasure. For cock. Yes! She needed to be filled with cock! That's what she craved now!!

She whimpered, quietly, in that dozing, dark plane filled with unknowing passengers, staring into the eyes of her kindly seatmate.

He moved the blanket over her lap without breaking eye contact, and pressed his hand into her crotch under its cover. He raised her skirt and stroked a finger along the moist heat of her panties-covered mound. She moaned and twitched, her mouth falling open, staring into his eyes.

"Please ..." she whispered. "Please, I'm so horny ..."

"My only question," he said, smiling directly into her eyes, "is whether you would have gotten so horny if I hadn't suggested it. Did I implant that thought into your suggestible brain? Or does the chocolate actually make you horny by itself?"

He moved her panties aside, and stuck a finger deep into her wetness. Her eyes filled silently with gratitude, already dreaming how she wanted to spend the whole weekend with him, letting his fingers and his cock and his chocolate do everything he wanted to with her.

"Every time, I tell myself I'm going to just wait and see," he went on, stroking her sex, already bringing her close to her first mind-breaking orgasm. "I won't say a word, just observe. But every time ... well ... I can't help it. I tell you how good your body feels. And it does."

She grasped his strong arm in both her little hands, and gasped in ecstasy, trying to be as quiet as possible and mostly succeeding.

"Six times now, and every time, I ruin the experiment. I just can't stop talking! It is a failing. I am a bad scientist."

He grinned.

"But you forgive me ... Don't you?"

And his eyes sparkled.

125 notes · View notes

imstarlostt · 9 months

Text

“Surprise ?”

Hwang Hyunjin x (Insecure) Idol Fem.reader

Playlist: at the bottom

———————————————————————

(Reader’s POV)

Everything felt wrong.

Like I couldn’t breathe anymore like I couldn’t even live anymore.

I worked all day in my studio trying to cheer myself up ever since I hadn’t slept all night. My members were all back at the dorm, we had a day off but I still decided to spend it here at the studio. I wanted to work but my mind was clouded by some troubled thoughts.

I had recently posted a picture on my Instagram account, it was the first time I posted something ever since me and the other members had our own accounts. I thought I looked pretty in the picture, for once. The people in the comments didn’t think the same way.

I had recently been all alone, ever since Hyunjin left for the tour. I was alone at home, the bed felt cold and no one was there to comfort me if I needed help. The fact that there was no laughter, no one talking. It was just me & my thoughts…I felt worse than ever. All these comments didn’t help, last night when I came back home, I didn’t eat. I felt so bad…

I went to sleep or at least tried to sleep and I ended up pulling an all-nighter. This morning when I woke up, I looked so pale and my eye bags didn’t help my state. If Hyunjin would’ve been there it wouldn’t have happened. He would’ve soothed me.. but unfortunately you cannot always get what you want in life.

People were writing things like “You’re fat” or “🤮🤮”. I felt nauseous, I never thought a single picture could make people feel this way. They were probably right… I was fat..

Now I felt like I didn’t deserve Hyunjin, I had always been insecure about my body and he always had let me know that he loved me and my body. He always said I was perfect just the way I was. But there was a part of me that still didn’t believe him completely. And that part of me has grown a lot in the past few days. I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I felt like breaking up with him would be best…

It would be best for the both of us, he could find someone better, prettier, and I could work on myself. So when he would come back from the tour I would tell him, tell him how I truly feel about us.

For now, I will stay here trying to write songs for our next comeback. I needed to focus on something else.

When the evening came I walked back home listening to “K” by Cigarettes After Sex. Ever since winter had come, the sun was getting low earlier and the dark took place earlier. It made me feel weird but it was comforting. I had my coat on and every time I breathed from my mouth fog was created.

I got to my front porch, my hand shook as I unlocked the door. I felt sad suddenly, the fact that I was finally home and I could cry if I wanted to, made me feel overwhelmed. I opened the door and I took a shaky breath in, as tears formed in my eyes. I let my keys fall to the table next to the stairs as I put my coat on the hanger next to the front door.

Suddenly I could feel my phone vibrate in my back pocket. As I pulled it out I saw the contact name, it was Hyunjin, he was calling me… but why ?

Isn’t he busy ? He doesn’t have time for me…

I answered the call as I put on a smile on my face trying to ignore my sadness. “Hi ?” Hyunjin’s voice answered, “Hi angel” I smiled at the tone of his voice as I leaned on the wall. “Are you okay ?” I asked, “Yeah, I got a surprise for you..” I raised my eyebrows in curiosity. “A surprise ?” I asked, “Yeah a surprise… Can you do something for me angel ?” I hummed, “Close your eyes for me okay ?” I closed my eyes “Great now relax..”

I relaxed my shoulders as I kept my eyes closed.

I suddenly felt arms wrapping around my waist as the line of my phone beeped, indicating the call had ended. “Hey angel” I heard Hyunjin whisper in my ear as my eyes opened. I backed up against the wall, as tears filled my eyes. “Hyunjin…” I stared at him with glossy eyes.

“Angel.. what’s wrong ?” He stepped back as he took a look at me. “Why.. why are you here..?” Hyunjin frowned. “To see you… I came back from tour an hour ago.. thought I’d surprise you” I stuttered. “I-I…” Hyunjin wrapped his arms around my waist as he pulled me towards him. “Shh.. it’s okay.. I’m here baby” I cried in his arms.

“I know… I know why you’re like this and you shouldn’t.. it’s okay baby” I cried harder “I saw the comments..” I felt like my walls had come down. “You’re so beautiful… my baby” I tightened my grip against him not wanting to let go.

“I don’t deserve you..” Hyunjin let out a small sigh. “No… I don’t deserve you” he sighed softly, “You know…” he pulled away. “I get these comments every time I post something too.. I bet you didn’t even notice the ones telling you, you were pretty… you only focused on the bad ones” He smiled softly as a tear rolled down his cheek. “You’re so beautiful my love, it's not because five people said the opposite that it means it’s true…”

“They’re probably jealous anyway” he hugged me back again. “I’m here… I’m here now and I’m not leaving for a good while alright..?” I nodded against his chest. “Everything will be alright..” I closed my eyes as I felt his heartbeat ringing in my ears.

“I love you.. more than anything in the world” I smiled as I looked at him with tears in my eyes. “I love you too”, he kissed me softly, everything felt just right… just like it used to be. He was home and it felt like home at last…

Word count: 1k

Playlist:

-Here With Me by d4vd

-K by Cigarettes After Sex

-Daylight by David Kushner

-The Beach by The Neighbourhood

-Space song by Beach House

-Creep by Radiohead

-Never Felt so Alone by Labrinth

#hwang hyujin imagines #hyunjin #sadnees #skz hyunjin #skz fluff #kpop imagines #skz imagines #skz comfort #stray kids #skz reactions #skz x reader #skz x you #skz hwang hyunjin

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baka-bakeneko · 1 year

Text

Streets - River Ward x Fem! V Reader [NSFW]

I found it hard to find someone like you.

tags: strip tease, shower tease, shower sex, voyeurism (thanks Johnny and River), grinding, fingering, oral sex (V receiving), cuck (Johnny, sorry), exhibitionism (nightclub grinding, feeling up), (private) public sex, lick the bowl, multiple orgasms, hint to dacryphilia, obsession/possessive kink, want it once gotta have it twice

word count: 5.2 k

synopsis: River has a brand new case and needs to start scoping out a new nightclub for his mark. But he's also invited V, so he's going full horny gonk brain.

a/n: y'all remember that doja cat video for her song 'Streets'? This is that entire vibe, it's all in the way River goes. Also my brain is on full River Ward rot, I'm sorry Takemura, i'll make it back to you.

River was done getting ready. Unfortunately, he'd been ready for the forty-five minutes it took for you to ready yourself out of bed, clean your nicest outfit and now you were in the shower.

Not that River was complaining, he'd taken the time to thumb through the file of his latest mark and while your off-pitch singing was entertaining, he was content with the studious silence that came with the closed door.

Thanks to Johnny, and Viktor to some extent, you recently got into some serious old school music. Obviously nothing compared to what was popular now, but there was something about some serious R&B.

And not to be a flair for dramatics, but River's shower was a perfect area for mental music videos. The ambient lighting he recently put in helped with the foggy glass door. You turned up your music another notch, running your hands through your hair. Thankfully, Johnny knew when to give his space.

You swayed your hips in rhythm, feeling the rivulets of warm water run down your back. Screw going out, being in here was just as good as sleep. Or sex.

River flipped through his pages for a third time, attempting to wedge anymore knowledge of his mark before finally deciding to cut your shower time short.

"V," River called, standing up from his bed and setting down his file. "Let's try and wrap it up? We were supposed to be on the road almost an hour ago."

He continued down the hallway, holding his hand out for the door to pneumatically slide open. You glanced over your shoulder, through the fogged glass to River stood in the doorway.

You used your finger to trace a heart around your sturdy boyfriend before you.

"V," River said, his voice softening a meter. "Come on."

You pulled your finger back and lined your fingernail between your teeth. With another tilt of your hips, you turned around then ran your hands down your sides.

River cocked his jaw, interested, and leaned against the doorway with crossed arms. "We don't have time for this."

You shook your hair out, turning around again to rest your hands against the glass. You kissed in the middle of the heart, then dropped down, bowing your knees. Then you were were crawling on the shower floor, accentuating the curve of your back. The dark red lights clung to your curves, easing through the steam to add a flair to the performance.

River's eyes were trained on you, shifting from the door and into the bathroom. The door slid shut behind him; River stepped a bit closer towards the shower, curiosity steering ship.

You rolled your shoulders back, pulling yourself up to your knees to River in the open doorway of the shower stall. With a wet hand, you reached out for his thigh and ran it up to grip at his waistband.

"V, please," River tried, stepping into the shower as your hand tugged harder at his clothes.

You glanced up at him, running your other wet hand along your body before sliding it between your hips to touch yourself. River grimaced, tilting his head back to soak in some steam.

You undid his pants, resting your wet hands to his skin, staring up at RIver. "Join me."

River couldn't resist the call to action, obviously swearing that he was going to be extra late trying to catch his mark. Hopefully they were known for being fashionably late because River was not going to pass up the opportunity.

"Oh, you're in trouble now," he sneered playfully, pulling off his shirt then hastily dropping his pants to the wet shower floor; River tossed his clothes out of the stall then rushed to grab you up, holding your slick body against his as he walked into the shower.

He tilted his head back at the warm stream on his face, hoisting you up on his hip before moving you just right on his waist. River stared down your body pressed against his, attempting to ignore your wet lips now parting to slosh your tongue in his ear.

"Fuuck," he drew out, only getting harder feeling your wet ass jiggle just over him. "Fuck V."

You trilled, curling your arms around his neck and sensually running your fingers across his skin, wetting him up and driving him nuts. Over his shoulder, you watched Johnny glitch into existence, perched on the bathroom sink.

"A real steam tease. Where's my eddies when I need them?" He quipped, pulling his comfort cigarette to his lips.

River pressed you to the cold shower wall, sliding his hands over your slick thighs before glancing down at his cock weeping to be inside you.

You grinned at him, taking your fingers back over your body, down your collarbone between your breasts and down to your waist; you spread yourself open for him, your eyes downturned with a sudden pout.

You were wet for him, well that was an understatement.

"Let's not waste time, Riv," you taunted, drawing your middle finger over your clit and tilting your head back to accentuate the delectable curve of your neck.

River growled, suddenly a man parched, and lapped at the water that slipped down your neck and between your breasts, lining his cock to your entrance and sinking inside.

You gasped, curling your arm around him tighter as you adjusted to his girth, a perfect fit. Melded together, wet and pliable. River massaged at your thighs, holding you a bit harder to the wall to adjust himself.

Shower sex always did prove difficult in the grand scheme of things. Still, River did his best to hold your hips and ease out of your dripping pussy, earning a long drawn groan shared before your parted lips.

How River's lips could make falling water look so hot, it was beyond you, but you felt an urge to drink him whole. You caught his lips in a kiss, sopping up the water that moistened his lips and pooling more between you.

To be dirty and clean at the same time was something to put extra effort in. You rolled your hips after River's hot cock, urging him to come back right where he was meant to.

With a groan into your mouth, his tongue licking its way in, River followed your silent order and began thrusting like he was trying to find oil.

But he was straight striking gold.

"That's some preem pussy you got there, V," Johnny called out though you were effectively pushing your parasitic friend to the way back, like hiding him in a cupboard. "Give 'im something to write home about."

You melted into River's hold, not holding back on how good he was actually hitting it. Your hand crossed on his shoulder tightened, your knees vicing on his waist to get him to slow down.

The heat from the shower congealed in the air, making your breaths short and fueling the euphoric fire that began growing in your back.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you panted into his mouth, egging him to keep going.

You were already chasing a high, though your squeezing walls were bringing River to his edge as well. "Get there, V, come on. Get there."

You followed his orders, your brow creasing as your breath began to shorten further. River's eyes lulled, watching your chest heave against his until you were caught tight, squeezing further on his cock and coming in an instant.

Your tongue rolled out of your mouth, catching a few drips from the shower before kissing him again. You moaned egregiously in his mouth, riding his thrusts until River met his tide.

He stuttered into you, his heavy thrusts dully pumping into you before stopping, firmly planted inside of you and coming. You felt your own slickness mix with the water on your inside thighs, adding a new layer of filth to you from being clean.

And your eyes rolled at the healthy amount of River that was now shooting into you. He pulled away from your lips, peppering your shoulder with kisses as he relished in your gripping walls.

He waited a long moment, giving your skin more appreciation with his lips before he snapped himself back into work River.

"We gotta go," River groaned, lining his nose against yours. "We've got work to do."

You smiled innocently, "Let's get to it then."

River helped you into his truck after cleaning up and getting dressed again, almost an hour behind schedule. But those extra fifteen minutes at the end were worth it. Not only did you two have fun in the shower, you were in such a saucy, boiled mood afterwards that you teased River again.

A reverse strip tease, putting on clothes, if you could call your dress clothes, and grinding against him when you could.

River hid a pleased roll of his eyes, remembering it all again now as you sat down in the passenger seat, closing your knees again and tugging your dress down your thighs. Shutting the door for you, River bit at his knuckles then rounded the front of the truck.

He had to focus, this was a recon mission that required all of his attention. And yours too. You were good in your merc work when you were free of distractions. But on two sides of the same coin, River was a distraction.

A delicious distraction, but a distraction from the goal nonetheless. And you were sure he could say the same to you.

He climbed into the truck, starting it upon adjusting in his seat. With a glance over to you, he pulled out of the driveway and began towards the nightclub. He hoped that his mark was more than fashionably late now.

River held his hand out for you to take, bringing your hand to his lips in an appreciative kiss. "Thank you, V, for doing this with me."

You smiled, shrugged a shoulder. "Always willing to help, River."

He offered a hum in response, pulling his eyes from the road to take in your outfit. "You look really good in that."

"Really?" You were taken aback by his compliment. "Thanks babe, I got this in Japantown."

He nodded, looking at you again and piecing together more of your outfit with each passing glance. It was a spaghetti strap dress with a deep V down between your breasts.

A bit of drool pooled in River's mouth, recognizing your dress as his favorite color: red, at his favorite length to make your legs look a beautiful mile long. To make your thighs look like a goddamn present.

River's hand slipped over the center console, tenderly caressing your elbow and down to your thigh before sinking his rough fingers on the inside of your supple skin.

"Eyes on the road, mister," you teased, not stopping River's wandering hand as it inched up under your dress.

You felt like a new rush, letting your boyfriend get further under dress before his curious fingers tickled your clit.

River's eyebrows shot up to his hairline, yoyoing a gulp in his throat. "Without panties, V? You're killing me."

You pressed your cheek to your shoulder with a flirty flutter of your eyelashes. "Panty lines were not part of the outfit, Riv."

He hid a frustrated groan as you held your hand over his, guiding his middle finger into your pussy. River's cock was truly fighting against his tight jeans now, driving an ache through his body at the thought of being inside you again.

You shrugged a strap of your dress down, freeing your hardened nipple to full view. River's foot took hold of his excitement, pumping a little more acceleration into the truck and jerking forward almost prematurely.

You giggled, taking your other hand to roll your nipple between your fingers. You angled your hips out, letting River sink his finger further into you.

"God...dammit," he growled, wringing the steering wheel while his eyes fought to stay on you. At least take in more of you.

River was getting to a very different track in his mind, already chastising himself for bringing his sweet distraction. All he was doing was tempting himself.

His eyes scanned the rest of the road as you two were readying to veer onto the highway. River saw an opportune empty stretch of dirt just under the ramp and pulled his truck off of the road.

Putting the car in park, River climbed over the center console and expertly pulled the passenger seat back to wedge himself between your legs.

"River," you mewed as he drew his finger out then back in slowly.

River pressed his lips to the inside of your thigh, then the other, switching back and forth in a zig-zag pattern before carefully catching your dress on the top of his head.

You giggled softly, pulling your dress further up to allow him more access. River rested his chin on the edge of the leather seat, staring at your pussy as if seeing a new haven.

He withdrew his finger in awe, pulling a trail of wetness along with a trace of his housed cum still inside you. River's eyes flicked up at you, almost imagining you as the sudden mother of his children.

But that'd have to be another day. He teased his tongue out at your clit, using his free hand to drape your leg over his shoulder.

You stared down at him, silent but panting again, ready to be taken by this insatiable man. You folded the back of your hand to your mouth, holding back an unearned moan before crying out at his lips closing around your clit and suckling at it.

You saw stars, raising your hand from your nipple to hold the back of his shaved head. You tilted your head back to the cabin, allowing him to sink his middle finger back into you before adding his index finger.

"River, shit, we're gonna be late," you whined, your other leg perching on his thigh and your ankle twitching.

River grumbled against your clit as your platform heel brushed against his steel cock in his pants. He was about to explode if you didn't first.

You were hot and cold all at once, gasping at all the stimulation you were receiving before you felt your body twitch involuntarily. You came quickly on River's fingers, on his face, soaking his chin and throat with wetness.

You seized in the passenger seat, your fingers on River's head twitching while you stretched your body out and tried to roll out of his hold. You were loud in the cabin, a breathy, nasty moan echoing against the glass and making music to River's ears.

River glanced up your body at you, earning your sultry cum-glazed stare back at him. Maybe now you'd both behave a bit better, after just a little bit more release.

He folded his tongue up, resting your abused clit against it for you to see. Your eyes rolled at the vulgar scene, feeling yourself coming again from the sight. Your pussy pulsed as River's fingers pulled from its wake, leaving you a chilled, sloppy mess.

"On to business," River growled, climbing up to you and kissing your lips, allowing you to taste yourself.

You caught your breath after his lips left you, licking your lips to savor the wet from him. Johnny materialized in the backseat as you waded your dress to its full length, adjusting your dress strap again.

"Damn V, what're you doing to him? This man's a dog, right now." Johnny leaned forward to stare at River while he pulled himself together again. "You've got this cop lapping out of your cunt as we speak."

You rolled your eyes at Johnny, reaching across the console to grab the back of River's neck. You pet carefully, circling your fingers along his shadowed hairline.

"You okay, baby?" you asked, leaning forward again to kiss his cheek.

River hummed in response, eventually turning and catching your lips again. "I'm fine, V."

Your hand drifted down from River's neck, petting the fur of his signature jacket before snaking your hand under it to his shoulder. "Why don't we just go home? Make some dinner?"

River grinned then, staring down at you. "Trynna get me all by yourself? Not 'till the work's done."

"This dog's not only ragged, but he's still with a goddamn bone. Just when I thought I could find solace with the cop."

You sneered carefully over River's shoulder and whispered a response to Johnny: "What, with your proclivity for pussy?"

"You know it, princess." Johnny sat back, crossing his legs and stretching across the backseat.

River kept in mind that he would never cross you. Not that he would, you were getting wormed into his heart and hurting you would only hurt himself. However, if by any small chance he fucked up, River would not want to be on your bad side.

The way you carried yourself into the club was something more than a threat. You were like a flame with legs, your dress slinking on your body with each movement you made.

He was surely going to make your night when you two got home. River was imagining it now, carefully peeling your dress to the floor but urging you to keep your heels on while he fucked you so thoroughly that you wouldn't be able to roll over afterwards.

He gulped, blinking out of his thoughts and trailing close behind you before catching up and draping his arm over your shoulders. River was still hard from mouth-and-finger-fucking you in the truck but he hid it with a shift of his waist and folding his hand in his pocket over his crotch.

"You're killing me, V," River whispered directly into your ear, straightening up to look around the crowded nightclub.

"Focus, River," you urged, scanning the same floor for his mark.

River pulled back from you. "Part for recon, circle the floor, find him, meet me at the circle booth."

You nodded, pulling away from River to saunter through the dance floor, offering a few sways of your hips in effort to blend in. River did the opposite, stopping by the bar to lean against it and order two drinks while his eyes stayed in the air.

You scanned at the area, catching onto the security camera. With a quick hack, you took control of the camera and double scanned the floor, then managed to shut it down.

River stood upright after paying for the drinks, grabbing both glasses and making his way back to you. Meeting in front of the booth, River offered a glass to you, held his hand out for you to sit then scooted in after you.

"Anything?" he asked, draping his arm over the back of the booth seat, placing his glass on the table before carefully swishing it about.

You shook your head, glancing over his shoulder then returning your attention to him. "I think we might've missed your mark, baby."

River hid a deep groan, disguising it with turning away. He wanted to wait a bit longer, just to be sure. "Let's just sit tight a bit."

"Sure, Riv. I'm following your lead." You carefully ran your hand along River's thigh, purposefully avoiding riling the man up again.

River raised a brow at your hand, then at you. "Would you like to dance?"

You nodded, taking a long sip of your drink before pressing to River to urge him out. "Come on."

River slid out of the booth, allowing you out. You grabbed his hand and led him to the dance floor, making a bubble big enough for the two of you.

He held his hand holding yours over your head, twirling you slightly before you pressed your back to his front. Even in heels, you were still towered by River. Your back was plastered close to his chest, his shoulder just behind your head.

Carefully, he rested his hands to your hips, attempting to hold you just far enough from his waist while keeping his attention around the room. With a glance up at him, you wiggled a bit closer and felt River's hardened stud in his pants.

You gulped, your eyes fluttering at the feeling of him. How he slotted down your back, resting firmly against your ass. You hid a groan, leaning further into River, guiding his hands up and down your body to acknowledge you once again.

River glanced down, catching onto your lengthened neck then down to see under your dress. He turned away, but couldn't help a second glance, pulling you a bit closer.

River teased his middle finger up the middle of your body, dragged it back down and caught onto the deep neckline of your dress. "God, you are addicting."

You smirked up at him, moving to the transcendental thrum of the music. "I love you too."

River smiled, turning to rest his lips to your temple. "I do love you, V. But right now I wanna fuck you 'til you can't stand," he breathed deeply into your ear, his voice a whole octave below the music and pulling a deep chill through your body.

Your knees faltered an inch, making you drop further into River and earning his hands a bit firmer against your thighs. "I want to do it right here, on the dance floor."

You gulped, your pussy quaking at the utterance of his intrusive thought. "River..." you groaned, wedging your hand between your ass and his hot crotch.

River hissed, drawing his head back to look at the ceiling. Your hand started massaging at his cock through his pants, feeling along the zipper it was pressed against and up to feel his tip now nested near his front pocket.

"V, fuck, please," River begged softly into your ear, attempting to grind you against him for a bit more relief. "Let's go back to the truck."

"What about your mark?" You asked, entranced by the lights and River, feeling a new sense of high.

"Fuck 'im, I can catch him another night," River tried, shaking his head at the thought of a deadline. "Maybe without my girl next time."

"You're missing out. You need the best merc on the job," you said with a grin.

River was in your ear again. "She's alright, she's a huge fucking distraction. All I want to do is be all over her."

You backed further into River, pressing your hand tighter to his cock. "I'm sure she wants the same from you."

River was never one to turn down an open opportunity; he grabbed your hand and made his way to the back of the nightclub to one of the open champagne rooms.

The lights were a mixture of purple-blue, a leather rounded couch circling a brass stripper pole. River nodded you inside, closing the pneumatic door behind him and locking it with a swipe of his thumb.

You managed to sit casually on the stage of the stripper pole, antsy in hips as your hands held the edge of the stage and squeezed your body in tight.

River shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the back of the couch, leaned over it to clasp his hands and stare at you. He narrowed his eyes, licked his lips as his eyes dragged down your body in a silent mapping.

Your breath hitched, feeling River's eyes drag over your skin as if it were his goddamn tongue. You slowly parted your legs to let your boyfriend get a good look.

River drew in his bottom lip in a hiss, rounding the couch to sit down. He glanced around the room to see the remote camera in the corner.

"V," he nodded in the direction of the camera.

You did as you were silently told to, shutting off the camera before pulling yourself up on the stage and standing. You stood in front of the pole, watched carefully as River undid his belt and pants; he unfurled his hardened cock from his pants, almost reddened at the tip.

He tilted his head back, allowing his cock to stand attention as he draped his arms over the back of the couch. "Valerie, come fuck me."

You felt a distinct trickle start down your leg, already inviting River to come. Your knees held a wobble, remembering how you couldn't stay standing after fucking in the shower.

With a large step, you came down from the stage and slipped your dress from your shoulders. It slinked down to the floor in a heap which you stepped out of.

River held his breath, staring at your naked body towering in black strappy heels. It was just as sexy as wearing your dress. He brought his fingers to your hip, petting soft circles that you felt were the biggest tease of the night.

He dropped his fingers to your clit, rubbing in rough circles that caused you keen at the ceiling. River's cock twitched at the sound, leaking pre-cum at the sight.

Your breasts heaved as his fingers finally stopped; his hand gripped at the back of your knee and pulled you onto his lap, immediately caressing his cock to your entrance.

"You're so quiet," River whispered as your other knee followed suit outside of his waist. "Where's that confident V?"

You shook your head, already driving that thought to the back. You were all over him in an instant, crossing your arms behind his neck and talking against his lips.

"I don't wanna talk, I want to fuck," you whispered against him. Your breasts pressed to his chest as your pussy slicked against his cock.

River agreed, his hands guiding up to your hips and holding onto them, letting you take the lead. You backed up on his cock, allowing his tip to pop into your entrance until you sank down on him.

The two of you almost collapsed at the collided feeling, almost euphoric to another level. River hid a grimace, already fighting to come inside.

You wiggled your hips forward, feeling his tip ring at your g-spot. "River..."

River nodded, holding your hips then caressing down to your ass, massaging at the flesh. You curled into him, unable to hide your excitement from his touch.

You were suddenly needy for all of River, pressing into him like the two of you would coalesce better than you and Johnny. Not that you would truly want to because you'd miss this feeling.

River shifted you impossibly close, slowly easing you up on his cock then back down and earning a pitchy moan from you.

"I love being inside you," River offered back against your lips; you nodded to his statement, shifting your hips once to agree.

He eased you up and down again, soft bounces against his thighs until he finally came inside you and chastised himself for not holding out.

You were still enjoying yourself and River wasn't done with you either. He turned you around on his hips, dragging you to the floor with your ass firmly against his thighs.

He was then a full dog in heat. River pulled off his shirt, peeling his pants further down his thighs to press his skin to yours.

He leaned over you, peppering your shoulders as his hand reached around to your clit. "Come on, V, make it creamy for me."

Your knees melted apart at the order, wanting to come on his hot cock while the orgasm began to war on your lower back. You wanted to cry out River's name, catching your breath in gulps while his cock now leisurely pumped into you.

"V," he sang into your ear, your chest heaving as if you were about to cry. "I want to make that pussy feel good, baby."

You arched your back into him, wanting to roll on the dirty ground with him. Instead you came so hard between his fingers and cock, your body bowing away from him to lock and shake from the heat.

River praised you softly, trailing his lips down your spine before softly pulling out. You felt the strength in your body leave when River left you.

Your knees buckled like a fawn's, holding your hips up to the cool air as River's cum slugged out of you. Your peace was short lived, however, as River took grip of the back of your thigh and turned you on your back, on the floor.

"You are so beautiful," River said with a gasp of awe, leaning over you to tenderly kiss your cheeks. "I'm sorry to make you cry."

You furrowed your brows at River, raising up on your elbows to follow him off of you. "What do you mea--"

It was realized too late when River's mouth clamped over your clit. You saw stars yet again, this time a full fledged galaxy as you tried to worm out of River's now clasping arms around your waist, his hands holding your leaking pussy open while he gulped at your clit.

River's name on your lips then could not be helped. It was a vulgar utterance, like his entire title was a curse word and blessing at once. Your hands went for your breasts, staring down at River planted firmly between your slick thighs.

You watched as he licked away from your clit, offered lining of your lips before returning to obliterate the sensitive nerves in your nub.

The words you said then were not meant to be hurtful, trying to stave off the electric coiling that was whipping up in your body. "Fuuuck you River, fuuuuck you."

The pain definitely tucked behind the pleasure, all of your body stung and spent though River was huffing and humming and licking.

Your knees bucked up, ready to squeeze River's perfect head away for the feeling to finally stop but it backfired and you were keening to the ceiling, your back arching with electric whips. Your ankles kicked out over River's broad back, your body actually deflating with the amount of energy you lost. Your eyes welled up with mist, hating and loving everything you felt at the moment.

River dropped your hips then, pulled himself off of you and leaned over to kiss you. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," he repeated soothingly, his hands carefully petting your hips.

You shook your head, your face a lemon of defeatedness and euphoria. "Be lucky I love you."

River grinned softly, kissing your cheek then neck and shoulder.

Getting dressed again was a whirlwind, attempting to step into your dress while your knees were definitely recalibrating. River watched the spectacle from the couch, already dressed and clean to the best of his ability. Your wetness was not something to be played off so simply, leaving a large spot directly over his zipper.

It chafed against his cock and he was almost ready to go again. When you finally managed enough stability to walk out, River draped his coat over your shoulders then followed you out.

As the two of you started for the front door, you noticed a familiar man slide in past security. You glanced up at River, silently asking him if that was who he thought it was.

"Yeah, I see him," River said, redirecting you to sit back in the circular booth you occupied previously. "It's gonna be a long night, V."

#river ward romance #river ward x v #river ward cyberpunk #river ward #v cyberpunk #female v #cyberpunk #cyberpunk 2077 #fan work #fanfic #bakeneko

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lilwifeynextdoor · 4 days

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Your blog is amazing!

Imagine: You are a former feminist, a stay at home mom of many kids, and I'm your feminist friend who visits you one day. I am worried about you and ask if this is really what you want even as I rub your belly and smile. You listen to me rant, all the while thinking that what I really need is some cock and a baby or two of my own. That would keep me happy and see, part of me loves rubbing your pregnant belly already. You decide to slowly corrupt me into becoming an antifeminist breeder, friends don't let their friends remain sad. How would you manipulate me?

Thanks.

Thank you so much!! I'm sorry I took so long to respond! I've been a busy mommy and I wanted to find the time to give this a well thought out answer. Short story below:

I freed myself of feminism what feels like so long ago, but to some five years isn't a long time. Five years ago, I had fallen pregnant with my husband's first child. I dropped out of college and became a stay at home mom around my 7th month of my first pregnancy, upon my then boyfriend now husband's request. He didn't have to do too much persuading as I was already considering it due to struggling with fatigue, waddling, and brain fog. He was right, it was only going to get more difficult for me to walk to classes not to mention trying to think once in the classroom.

It was the right decision for us and his growing baby. But, most all my friendships faded now that I wasn't on campus anymore. You were the only one that came and visited me sometimes, we were best friends and we had met in women's history class. You were so inspired in that class, I could see the passion in your eyes when you spoke about feminism. I was inspired by your spirit, and for a long time I held on to the idea that feminism is about a woman's right to choose, and I made the choice to be a stay at home mom.

Our lifestyles are so different, years went by and our friendship faded more and more. Until one day you showed up at my husband's doorstep. It had been a long while since I had seen you, last we met up my husband and I had 2 children and now we have 5 with his 6th on the way.

Of course I invite you in. My husband is at work and my children are all down for a nap except for our current youngest who I am holding and nursing as we sit at the kitchen table.

You had been so worried about me recently, but now that you are here you take pause. The house was lovely and tidy, the tea I served you was comforting and delicious, and on top of that I was absolutely glowing. Then you notice, the bump I'm sporting moves as the baby inside rolls and kicks. Without thinking you start rubbing my belly, like some sort of strange magnetism, your hands were drawn to it. I scoot closer to you to invite you to continue.

"I've been worried about you" the words you've been meaning to say all this time spill out of you.

An incredulous gasp leaves me when I ask you why you've been worried about me.

"I see your posts on social media, I know this is your sixth in just as many years... congratulations by the way" You stumbled through your words. "Is this what you really want?" You look up from my belly to search my eyes for an answer.

"Of course! This is my choice" I gesture to my home. Which is to you: my cushy prison.

"No it's not, you can't tell that lie to me! I was there, I know what really happened!" You stand up, outraged. "He knocked you up and told you to drop out, he's controlling you and has kept you stuffed full of babies ever since so you can't leave! So you can't live your own life!" The passion in your voice was tinged with some kind of hurt, or jealousy?

"well hold on, you're right our first was a surprise to me. But, I am so happy. I really feel like my experiences have shown me this is the way life is meant to be." I try to soothe you, to call you down from the edge you've gotten yourself onto. "So no need to worry for me okay?" I smile to you, hoping you'll smile back.

When you smile and sit back down, I notice how worn thin you are. Your skin and hair is dull, the way you conduct yourself is full of sloppy and tired movements.

"How are you, are you happy? Have you found your calling?" I ask, but already see the answer.

"Well I'm fine. Work is okay but it's not what it was cracked up to be. All the guys at work are losers, and they are always pissing me off. I do wonder if I haven't found my calling, yeah, maybe I majored in the wrong thing." Your sharp defensive tone falls to a nagging grumble as you go on and on.

"it's a little late to start all over like that and go back to school." I point out.

"You think I should keep sticking it out and climb the ladder?" You try to muster some hope into your voice.

"Actually I was thinking the opposite, you should quit that job. Look for something easier and part time. Do you have a partner? Surely he makes more than you and wouldn't mind you leaning on him for support." I ask, thinking surely you can't have stayed single all this time.

"What do you mean surely he makes more than me?! And no I don't have a boyfriend!" You bolt up again, feeling attacked.

You stormed out on me that day with your ego bruised. But you came back around. My words still stung, because I had a point. It gnawed at you and you couldn't help but try taking my advice. You did get that part-time job, and you spent your new found extra free time at my house helping me with my children and to-do list. With working less you were already doing so much better, not near as stressed, cleared skin, and your hair had shine again.

You slowly but surely stepped away from being career focused as I got you more and more comfortable with domesticity. Women belong in the home, so it was naturally very easy for you to fit right in to the lifestyle. My husband took us shopping as I needed bigger maternity clothes and you definitely needed something more becoming of an available young woman.

Then one day, I had you stay over for dinner and my husband brought one of his colleagues home with him to have dinner with us. The match making game had begun. Now that you were completely ready to settle down and assume the natural role of a woman beneath a man, serving him and birthing his children, any man would be so lucky to have you. You've become such an enlightened woman in these modern times where so many silly girls still cling to feminism like you once did.

Today you're absolutely beaming and radiant. You've announced your pregnancy! Your husband's first baby is officially on the way. I'm so happy for you and I hug you best I can with my husband's 7th due any day now. I'm truly proud of the woman you've become and will continue to grow to be.

(I'm so sorry I'm a confrontation person and not a manipulation person, I did my best, it's still something, I hope you enjoy!)

#answered #💌#lilwifeytalks #pregnancy story #misogyny kink #pregnant housewife #stepfordization

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nogoodthing-official · 4 months

Text

No Good Thing

Volume 1: Special Delivery

Synopsis:

Brock and Maxim try to find a delivery that never arrived.

[I will add appearances for extra characters later on when I get a good idea of their designs]

Extra:

Here it is!! I hope the very first volume will be to your liking, but please tell me if there’s any errors I should fix. Hopefully I’ll get a better idea for any volume plots in the future! Merry Christmas!

Read:

A piercing sound jolted Brock out of sleep. He looked around frantically, his heart beating rapidly. He looks around to see what could even make that sound and sighs heavily in half-relief and half-embarrassment when he saw where the sound was coming from.

Oh. His alarm clock.

He only started recently waking up with an alarm clock, and he was still not used to the sound that would startle him ad nauseum every time it was apparently now time to get up. He sluggishly reached over to his phone and wanted to shut off the alarm, or at least set it to snooze for a few minutes, but he knew that he needed to get up soon, if not now, a few seconds from now. He’s had trouble with sleeping in before, before he moved out. At one point it got so bad that he wouldn’t even come out of his room until 1:00 P.M. Maxim has been helping him get better at waking up at more active times of day, and he didn’t want him to relapse since his mental health has gotten better since then. Brock appreciated that he believed in him. He decided that it was best to just get up now and face whatever the day had planned for him. He sat up in his bed and looked at his phone. 7:00 A.M.

“Ughhh…”

As much as he didn’t want to let Maxim down, he had to admit, it was a rocky start.

Brock slides his legs over the side of the bed, grabs his blue shirt and khaki shorts to put on, and walks out of he and Maxim’s bedroom. He enters his bathroom and begrudgingly turns on the light, screwing his eyes shut until they get used to the sudden change of brightness of the room, dropping the clothes on the floor beside him. He leans forward with his arms braced against the sides of the sink like he would fall over any second, and faces himself in the mirror. Just as he expected. A mess.

Brock really looked okay, as okay-looking as someone who just woke up could be. He had a medium tan skin tone dotted with two small moles on his right cheek. His eyes, which carried faint bags, were a deep brown color, so much so that they almost looked black from afar, unless light was shining into them. The unkempt hair that he was currently running a comb through was jet black and reached to his shoulders. He looked more annoyed than he usually did, given that he just woke up. He had a figure that most would call “athletic” and what he would call “stick-like”. To most, if not all people, he looked like a regular person. To him, he looked like Brock, which was worse in his eyes. After putting in as much effort as he tried to muster at 7:04 in the morning, he changes his clothes to the outfit he picked out and starts out the door, downstairs to greet Maxim for the morning.

Brock walked down the stairs, still in a half-asleep fugue state. He felt like his mind was running on autopilot today. Waking up this early was not his strong suit. As he reached the bottom, he worked through the brain fog as he finally saw a familiar face come into view.

Maxim sees Brock descending from upstairs and immediately smiles that warm smile that greets Brock every morning.

Brock could feel a drowsy smile start to etch its way onto his face as he greets him.

“Good morning, Max.”

“Hey! How did your second week of waking up with an alarm go?”

It was terrible. “It was a little rough. I almost had a heart attack from the alarm.”

Maxim chuckles a bit, his deep voice making the simple act sound soothing, and Brock can’t help but laugh with him, although less energetic. God, it should be illegal for someone to be this contagiously good-natured.

Maxim Torres, or Max as Brock and a few of his friends call him, was sitting at the table, eating cereal from a red bowl while reading something on his phone. He definitely woke up early before. Compared to himself, every single thing Brock saw in Max was beautiful. His eyes were an icy blue color, matching the equally cool undertone of his fair skin. He wore his dusty brown hair down to the middle of his back, and while he was only 2 inches taller than Brock, he was considerably more muscular and more built than him. He wasn't wearing one of his sweaters today (he always wore a blue sweater), but was instead wearing a black t-shirt with dark grey sweatpants, one of the two outfits that he wore to sleep. Max is one of the few people that gets to see more than one side of Brock, one of the two people that lives with him, and the only person that can get Brock to feel better without even trying. Needless to say, Brock loves him.

“Well, alarms always wake me up. Maybe we should change the alarm to something different for you.”

“Yeah, maybe I should.” Brock muttered. He appreciates his help, as much as alarms stress him out.

“Oh, I forgot to ask, do you remember that we were supposed to get yesterday?”

Brock snaps out of his haze, trying to get the sleep out of his voice.

“No… was it something important?”

“Uh, well,” Maxim chuckled sheepishly. “It’s important to me.”

“Hm. Well, is the package late? Didn’t you already get a message from the delivery guy saying that it arrived yesterday?”

“Yeah, I got it yesterday, but it never came. It’s weird...”

“That is weird… what about buying it again? It’s probably an option…”

Maxim leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “No. I want to track down and find where he is.”

Brock fully wakes up. “What? Why?”

“Because,” Maxim shows his the delivery guy’s route on his phone. “It says that his route stopped in a town almost two hours from here! He confirmed the delivery despite the fact that I haven’t heard from him since the stopping point, and any messages I’ve sent him haven’t been returned. I want to check to see or at least confirm that he’s still alive. I just don’t want to think that we have a… situation. On our hands.”

Brock scans over the screen. “Okay, that is weird, but why is this your first action? What is stopping you from just repurchasing whatever you bought?”

“The $40 I spent to have it delivered here.”

“…”

Brock takes a deep inhale and stands up. He stretches his back and slouches forward with a long exhale.

“Alright, get some clothes to wear, let’s just find this guy.”

They started the journey to the location, about 2.5 hours away on foot. The first 30 minutes went without a hitch, but the physical fatigue finally caught up with Brock at the 40 minute mark. Maxim, of course, barely looked tired, but more determined as time passed. After multiple rest stops, they reached the edge of their location at 6 P.M., and the sun was starting to go down. As they continued walking, they took in their surroundings.

“THAT FUCKING SUCKED.” Brock was tiredly dragging his feet a large distance behind Maxim. He didn’t like being outside because of many reasons, but the energy drain on his body was a huge reason why. Maxim reassures Brock that this is the final stretch.

“Okay, okay, let’s just find the guy, we still have a lot of time left.”

As they walked through the neighborhood at dusk, they realized how little of this town they actually knew. Every house looked identical, each lined up close to each other in a way that made the place almost look claustrophobic. Every light in the house was turned off, which was strange, as it was nowhere near the time where anyone is winding down yet. Many rows led to dead ends, but others led to roads that looked like they led to the middle of nowhere. It was like trying to navigate an artificial maze. They continued walking for almost 10 minutes, trying to find the spot where this delivery guy supposedly went. As they tried yet another row, they found a clue in the empty space between one of the houses and a tree; a box.

Maxim’s smile becomes bright enough to power a small village. “Look! There’s the package!!”

“hUh…??” Brock was about to pass out.

Maxim picks up his pace until he stops just short of the box, then circling it to inspect it for any damage. “Well, we found the box, but no deliverer.”

“Okay, we did it, let’s go home now please…”

Before Maxim can lift the box up, he hears a fretting whisper come from somewhere beside him. “Wait, don’t touch it!”

Maxim whirls around until he spots an arm coming from some abandoned animal burrow beside the tree. The arm shakily pulls forward the person it’s attached to; the delivery guy. Right now, he looks scared for his life.

“Please, you have to leave, now!”

“Wait, why? Why are you hiding?” Maxim asks.

Brock taps on Maxim’s shoulder. “Hey, Max? I don’t know why, but I’ve been getting a bad feeling about this place after a while. Everything looks so… off here. Maybe we should just make an exception this once and reorder it again-“

“Wait…what’s that noise?”

The sound of asphalt footsteps silence all three of them. They all collectively turn towards the source as they see a quintet of approaching shadows down the road. Maxim preemptively picks up the box while the delivery guy retreats back into his hidey-hole. Then, the group seems to stop in the shade of one of the houses, purposefully obscuring their faces. A voice then comes from the closest silhouette, shattering the silence with how loud it was.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going with that?”

The voice sounded… young. In fact, it sounded prepubescent. It sounded like a little girl’s voice than anything threatening. As the shadow steps forward, lo and behold, there was the source.

The girl was about two-thirds the height of each one of them, but she carried her stature and projected her voice like she was the one who had the upper hand in this situation. The group behind her, which also looked equally as young, finally stepped into the visibility of the moonlight. It was just a gaggle of formidable preteen girls, combing the streets at night like a group of stray cats. Probably more intimidating to an elementary school boy, but confusing to a group of adults in their near 30s.

Brock was the first to break the long gap of silence. “Uh… I’m sorry, do you need help with something?”

“No. But I can’t help but notice that your friend over there is carrying the spoils of today’s looting.”

Brock turns to the delivery guy, still cowering in his hiding spot. “This is what you were so afraid of that you couldn’t leave??”

“They were threatening me, okay?!”

The girl whistles to get the attention back on her. “Alright, I’ve humored this situation long enough,” she says as she makes her way towards Maxim and the box. “We’ll just take these hats and we can just pretend that this never happened-“

Brock snatches the box from Maxim before she can lay her hands on it. “I’m sorry, hats?? That is what we traveled 2 hours for?”

Maxim nervously laughs through his confession. “Uh, haha- well I’ve been meaning to try and restart a collection-!”

“The box.” The little girl demands.

Brock ignores her. “Whatever, the only reason I’m not thinking about leaving this here is because it cost $40 to ship it-“

“Oh, you’re not going anywhere with that. We found it first.”

“Little girl, we paid for it first.” Brock retorts. “You’ll learn about it when you get older.”

The girl seethes silently, before taking a deep breath inwards. “Alright. You asked for this.”

Brock hands the box back to Maxim. “How will you even convince us to do what you want? You’re all shorter than us and are physically weaker than three adults.”

“Maybe,” the girl then snaps her fingers as all of the girls suddenly brandish large bags of stones. “But everyone is weak against blunt force damage.”

Brock actually falters back a little. “Oh you’ve got to be kidding- Max, grab the delivery guy and get ready to run-!”

With no warning, the leader of the group throws a stone that actually connects with Brock’s forehead. Brock lets out a cry of pain as he presses his hand to his forehead. He pulls it back, panting in pain, and he sees a smear of blood.

Maxim pulls the delivery guy out from the hole. “Alright, we’re getting out of here, Brock, get a head start, I’ll distract them!”

Brock starts to bolt back down the street. Before the girls can notice that he made a break for it, Maxim throws one of the hats down the opposite way, accompanied by the chorus of squeals telling one of the members to catch it. Maxim takes the box and the delivery guy and runs down the road to catch up with Brock. The diversion would only buy them a few seconds of time, but they needed to take what they could get.

Maxim and the delivery guy catch up with Brock, who was already sitting near the exit of the neighborhood. His legs hurt, his lungs burned, his forehead was still throbbing from having a stone lobbed at it, and he was sitting beside the stop sign panting like he had just run a marathon.

“Where… where are they…?”

“They’re all the way back there, but it won’t be long until they catch up. Now, do we have everything?”

Brock pauses to take in more air. “What do mean ‘do we have everything,’ we didn’t pack anything!”

“Right. Glad you’re okay.”

Their convening was cut short by distant shouting coming from the road behind them. Maxim and the delivery guy start to panic.

Brock calls for Maxim. “Max? …Pick the box back up, I’m gonna go buy us some more time. And be ready, okay?”

Maxim wordlessly follows his request. Brock gets back up off of the ground and sees the group in the distance, running towards them.

“Hey Max? I actually took the rock she threw with me before I ran. You might not like what I do next.”

He then takes said stone out of his pocket, takes a running start towards them, and uses his momentum to launch the rock towards them, where it lands directly on the leader’s forehead. The girl trips and tumbles over, and her friends convene around her, all of them chattering and asking if she was bleeding, or still awake, etc. She was definitely still conscious since they could hear her crying from the exit.

Maxim turns to Brock, in shock.

“Did you just throw a rock at a child??”

“I know, but we have much more time to escape their line of sight, come on!”

Brock takes off further down the road towards the forest clearing they walked through to get here. Maxim whirls his head from the group of kids and a rapidly departing Brock, before picking up the box again and urging the delivery guy to follow him.

Maxim calls after him. “We’re gonna talk about this when we get back home!”

It was now nighttime, and they finally reached the clearing in the forest that used to mark their final stretch of the trip. It looked like a natural sunroof for moonlight, with the rest of a forest forming a large opening shaped like an oval. The trees were pink around here, but the low light combined with the blue tint of the moonlight made them look more indigo. This, along with the falling petals, gave this place an appearance that looked like a scene from a movie, and gave the area an aura that would make anyone just happy. If this place was a painting, it would be in a museum.

They were not in any condition to enjoy the scenery, though. They were all catching their breath in the middle of the clearing and were all about to pass out from exhaustion. Brock started coughing, his lungs were hurting from so much running.

“I think we… finally lost them…”

Maxim drops down to sit on the grassy floor, setting the box beside him, and tries to take some even breaths. “This has been… way too adventurous for me.”

Brock lets out an exhausted laugh. “Yeah… I don’t know if this was the best idea… but at least we got your stuff back, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah of course. I just didn’t expect it to be an all-day thing…”

Brock laughs with a bit more energy before collapsing beside Maxim onto his back. “Me neither. This… sucked.”

They both start to laugh amongst themselves as they realize just how ridiculous this situation is. Their laughter is cut short by footsteps in the trail they just came from. They both stand up and Maxim grabs the package, and all are ready to run. Instead of the leading girl, they instead see a different girl from her group. She puts her hands up defensively.

“Hey, it’s alright, I’m unarmed.”

The girl continues to walk to about a few feet away from Brock and Maxim, with the delivery guy right on the edge of the clearing, ready to run.

“You gave her quite the goose-egg, but she’ll live.” Maxim slightly decompresses and lets out a small sigh of relief, since he didn’t know if a girl that young would survive a small rock to the head. Things are silent for a moment before he decides to de-escalate the tension.

“L-listen, I’m very sorry about what he did, and I hope that that girl isn’t incredibly injured. But I have to ask, why did you feel the need to jump a delivery guy and steal a random person’s package, and how many times have you done this? I get that some friend groups make you feel like you’re inseparable from them since they’ve been there your whole life, but that doesn’t mean that you’re expected to follow through with every single plan they have. What would your parents think if they heard about you robbing someone and then chasing a group of people down the street?”

The little girl is silent for a moment. It looks like she’s really thinking about the question. She finally gives her response.

“My parents are dead.”

Maxim feels like he’s made a horrible mistake.

“… oh.”

A very long, very awkward stretch of silence ensues.

Brock fidgets with his hair before deciding to break the silence.

“Hey, I know you probably don’t want to hear anything from me, since I… injured your friend. Sorry. But, as a peace offering, I think you should have this.”

Brock reaches into the box and pulls out a hat at random. He then walks over and crouches down to the little girl’s level.

“I know what it’s like to lose someone that close to me… what you did is still extremely illegal, but I don’t think you should go back empty-handed. I still think you’re a nice person underneath the exterior that we had to witness tonight, but here’s hoping that it’s more visible to more people next time.”

He then hands her the hat, before standing back up and taking the box with him as he exits the forest clearing. Maxim stands still, still slightly in shock before shaking off the feeling and taking off after him. As he leaves, he calls out “Sorry for your loss,” before disappearing after him.

The girl looks down at the hat before shifting her attention to the delivery guy, who just started sneaking out of the place.

“HEY!”

The man freezes in fear. The girl just holds out her hand.

“Wallet.”

The delivery guy, seeing no other way out of this, just sighs and forks it over. She smiles sweetly as she pulls out a couple of dollars before dropping the wallet on the forest floor.

“You’re doing a good thing, y’know. This’ll pay for all the band-aids we’ll need to buy.”

She turns on her heel and practically skips back towards her town with money and a new hat.

#EEE FIRST VOLUME!!#volume 1 #story volume #original story #writeblr #no good thing #ngt volume 1

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bluegoblinfox · 4 months

Text

Non verbal or not non verbal?

I've really struggled to express this and why I am having difficulty with not using the term become non-verbal. I'm gen x and I'm trying to understand. Please be kind.

This it's been a part of my life always really. It's just when it got to this point I would hide away my own. It wasn't really an issue in my day-to-day life because I was masking so much. However I would burn out and need to take days and days off work to recover on I've regular basis. Places of work don't like this.

When my daughter was unwell and I was caring for her full time and intensively, I became very burnt out. I Began noticing that I would start to do what I called- loose my words. It would be like there was a fog in my brain between what I was thinking and feeling and putting that into language and then expressing that in words. At its best this would just be a verbal difficulty and at its worse I couldn't communicate in writing either.

When my daughter hit crisis, so did I. When she went into a crisis house and then went into a psychiatric unit, I began to notice the periods of me having difficulty expressing myself with words was becoming more frequent. As I said at best this was a shutdown verbally and at worse it was an inability to communicate using language at all.

It seems like the more stressed I was, the more stressful the situation was, the more emotive situation was and the more communicating I needed to do, the more difficulty communicating I had.

I still have these issues. I can feel them coming on most of the time. When it's all getting too much and I'm shutting down and my communication ability shuts down too. I still use the phrase losing words. However most people don't understand what that means and what it means for me.

I have used the phrase becoming non-verbal to describe my difficulties during these periods. I have recently read on Tumblr from people who are non-verbal all of the time that this is offensive. I don't fully understand at the moment why that is but I want to understand.

I don't feel the term semi verbal quite describes me as the majority of the time I can communicate using my voice and typing. I don't feel the term selective mute is an adequate definition of what it is I experience. I don't know I could be wrong on this.

I don't want to use language which detracts from other autistic's experiences or obstructs understanding. I do however need to use words that other people generally are able to understand the meaning of.

I think discourse is important. It is vital to establish a shared and precise comprehension of the meanings of words. It is equally important to grasp their significance within different social groups. These meanings contribute to the associated ideas, assumptions, and stereotypes related to those words. The common understanding of these words and any prevalent stereotypical beliefs associated with the group they describe can unfortunately result in discrimination and prejudiced actions.

However I don't believe in the gatekeeping of terms, definitions, labels, over who can use them.

I am queer and there are many definitions of what that means. However generally it means not cis-heterosexual.

Queerness like autism is a spectrum consisting of many parts. My queerness is more evident in some parts of my life and less so in others. My autism is impacts me to different degrees in different areas of my life. I am 100% autistic and I am 100% queer. Both those labels apply to me as an individual, as ways of describing my gender identity and sexuality succinctly and as a way of describing my neurotype succinctly.

People are argue all the time about who has the right to use these labels. I don't care if you are self-diagnosed autistic I think that is just as valid as a diagnostic label. I don't care why or for how long or when you decide that you identify as queer. It is just as valid to decide that you are queer in your teens or when you're 50.

I experience not being able to use language verbally at times. I don't understand at present why it would be offensive or wrong for me to say I experience becoming non-verbal at times. As this is a succinct and well understood way of describing this experience in a way that others can understand.

If someone can explain this issue to me in a way that makes sense and can suggest another way of me explaining my experience and getting my point across regarding my support needs to people in general without saying I have periods where I am non-verbal, then I will stop using that term.

#actually autistic #mental health #plural system #living with cptsd #plurality #adhd #autism #functional neurological disorder #chronic fаtiguе ѕуndrоmе #did system #becoming non-verbal #nonverbal #selective mutism #semi verbal #autistic shutdown #verbal shutdown #language shutdown #discourse

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bettathanyou · 11 months

Note

brain frothing I need a cedric fic rn before I simply perish-

Hi cupnoodle! I'm working on your other request, it's about halfway done and I'm gonna get it done today. I'm also soooo sorry for the horrendous cliffhanger from the babysitter fic, I've been swamped w personal projects and Mental IllnessTM but for SURE!!! I'm gonna finish it I promise. I'm just gonna write a short one here so u don't perish from Cedric withdrawal (and comfort me cuz I'm going through it rn)

CedricXFem!Reader,

Comfort Fic <3

As title suggests, this is a comfort Fic with implied mentions of mental health issues, insomnia, blood/minor gore(?)/ Injury warning and cptsd. Just Cedric being so worried about u and trying to make you feel better. I'm sorry if the quality of this fic is iffy

Today, along with the rest of your shitty week, was just not going your way. As a servant in the castle, of course days are usually busy and a little hectic. Normally, you're able to navigate the highs and lows effectively enough, and whatever storms you can't weather you can always lean on your friends or partner, Cedric.

Well, that would be the case if King Roland didn't decide to throw a very last minute ball that was only a week away. The rigorous work coupled with no adequate time to prepare left you completely devoid of energy; so visiting friends seemed like a daunting task.

You also knew that whenever a ball was scheduled, Cedric was equally if not more busy than you preparing for a magic show. You usually give him his space to work in peace in these situations, but you find yourself yearning to just see his handsome face.

However, something inside you recently has kept you from reaching out to him.

You sigh deeply, rubbing your temples to try and ease the brain fog thickening in your mind. Multiple restless nights along with work related stress has your mind wandering to dark but familiar places.

Whenever you find yourself overwhelmed, bad memories and feelings always pop up more often than usual. You sigh again, willfully ignoring the tightening of your throat and the way your eyes felt sore from holding back tears.

As more dark thoughts churn in the forefront of your mind, you feel your actions going into autopilot. Turning dumbly to your task at hand, you lift the bulky box of decorations from the floor.

Because the box was so big, your field of vision was greatly reduced; coupled with you not paying attention, you missed the last step on the stairs back to the main castle.

You felt your heart drop as your body crumpled to the floor. The box quickly followed suit, the crashing sound of breaking glass activating your nervous system. You hear blood rush to your ears, and before you could stop it a sob escaped from your lips.

You weren't sure how much time passes, but eventually you will yourself to get up. Propping your hand off the floor, you begin to push off when a searing pain rips through your palm.

You cried out, yanking your hand back to your chest. Your eyes flick to your hand, dark red already trickling down in steady waves to your forearm. You see a piece of crystal embedded in your flesh, along with a nasty looking gash ripping across your palm.

You curse loudly, internally criticizing yourself for forgetting the broken glass on the floor. Even though the pain was growing in volume, you almost feel relief in a way- at least with this pain, your head finally feels clear.

With that clarity, you realize you need to get this wound dressed immediately. You scoot away from the hazardous material on the floor, using the stairs as leverage to get your body off the ground.

You suddenly hear Violet's familiar voice from the nearby corridor, and your body stiffens. You suddenly feel exposed, and wish to whatever forces above that they won't turn the corner to find you in the state you're in.

Your answers fell on deaf ears as Violet came rushing to your side, her eyes wide with confusion and shock.

"What happened, dear??" Violet exclaimed, taking in the mess before her.

"I missed a step on the stairs...." You croaked, cringing at how hoarse you sounded. You pray Violet wouldn't catch it, but she was never one to miss small details. Tearing her eyes from the ruined decorations, she takes you in with a worried look.

"Oh, are you alri-" Violet's words got caught in her throat, eyes bulging at the blood seeping from you. Her skin blanched, and you quickly tucked your hand out of sight in shame.

You stand there awkwardly, shame and guilt quickly traversing your body. You don't look Violet in the eyes, unable to witness her reaction anymore.

"I-I'll fe-f-fetch a doctor, right away!" The maid squeaks, already turning away from you to rush off. You didn't even have time to protest before she disappeared as quickly as she had come.

You stare in disbelief, and for some reason the interaction left you feeling angry. The pain from your palm swelled in time with your anger, making your skin buzz. Your breathing started to hitch as you attempted to take in a deep breath to calm down.

Feeling fed up with waiting, you find your body moving of its own accord. Wrapping your oozing hand in your skirts, you briskly walk to the destination you have in mind.

Cedric's workshop.

As you neared your destination, your body lost its furious pace; now replaced by a lingering feeling of dread. You knew Cedric wouldn't react well to you being hurt, and knowing this didn't make you feel any less anxious.

The dangerous thoughts clouding you earlier flicker in the depths of your brain again, in between worrying about Cedric's reaction. You blink rapidly to try and regain your focus, trudging up the sorcerer's staircase you've walked a million times.

Using the last ounce of courage you had, you timidly knocked on Cedric's door.

A moment of silence passes before you hear the familiar footsteps. Your heart leaped in your throat as his door cracked open, his angular face peeking out from the wooden frame.

Upon seeing you, his eyes immediately lit up. You can't help but crack a small smile at his happiness.

"Y/n! I was just thinking of you, darling!" Cedric purred as he opened the door. Within moments you tuck your injury closer to your side, thankful he still hasn't noticed.

You chuckle in response, trying not to sound too nervous.

"Really? ...All pure, innocent thoughts I hope?" You chirp back, tucking yourself against the wall to help conceal your hand from Cedric.

You looked up at his rose-tinted cheeks, and you let out a genuine chuckle this time.

Seeing your amused smirk, Cedric decided this time to be bold in his response. Before you could tease him further, he closed the gap and pressed his body against you.

As Cedric leaned in to connect his lips to yours, a flash of icy pain runs up your arm and into your elbow, sending shooting waves of agony throughout your body. You cried out loudly, instinctively shoving Cedric away from you.

With your arm now out in the open, there was nowhere left to hide. Cedric looks at you hurt and confused, but before you open your mouth his eyes drift on the source of your distress.

His eyebrows shot up immediately, worry lines etching onto his forehead. His golden eyes grew dark with fear, and you see his hands start to tremble. His mouth hangs open in shock, and while he's still processing you grab your opportunity to explain yourself.

"Okay, I know it looks bad, but- I just need to borrow some of your things to dress it. I'll be quick about it too, and then I'll be out of your way. Promise."

Your words feel more like a plea rather than a promise, and your body tenses in preparation of Cedric's answer.

Your eyes lock with his bright amber ones as Cedric stays eerily silent. You didn't expect such a... non-reaction, and that unnerved you moreso. You see multiple emotions whirl across his features; bewilderment, concern, shock. All in succession.

What surprised you the most, however, was the rising look of anger darkening his face.

"You'll be out the way?" Cedric echoed, his head tilted in exasperation.

"I... Well, yeah... You're busy right now, so-" You start, feeling yourself shrink with each passing word. Your words quickly died on your tongue as the storm brewing within Cedric's eyes grew.

He suddenly turns away from you sharply, almost making you flinch. Taking his wand from his robe, drawers magically flew open with a loud creak. Potions, a few bottles of herbs, and tightly bound cloth assemble midair and hover just above his head.

You hear the sorcerer muttering to himself, presumably double and triple checking to make sure he grabbed the correct ingredients.

Even though he was doing exactly as you asked, you can't help but feel a little... Hurt. . Even though logically you knew Cedric wasn't really mad at you, his upsetting stare carved a hole in your heart. You really didn't want to bother Cedric, and already felt bad for interrupting thus far with such a gruesome sight.

Insecurity writhed in your gut like a beastly thing, and you feel the urge to bolt back to the hallway you came from to wait for the doctor.

However, Cedric turned back to you before you could seriously consider the notion. His face was less pissed than before, now replaced with a furrowed brow of concentration.

"Alright, sit." Cedric commanded, placing down his things with a flick of the wand.

"What?" You question, your mind snapping back to reality.

Cedric sighed, placing his gloved hands on your shoulders.

"I need you to sit." Gently but firmly guiding your body to his work chair, he pushes you down into the seat. It begins to dawn on you that Cedric plans to treat your hand himself, contradictory to your plans.

You felt your heart warm at the gesture, and you bit your cheek to keep from grinning too hard. You feel just a touch lighter than before, and you say a silent prayer of thanks for Cedric's kindness.

However, you're quickly reminded Cedric was still upset with your wording, and it poisons your previous happiness.

You squirm a little in Cedric's seat as he preps himself. Taking off his leather gloves, he ferociously washes his arms in soap and hot water. You try not to linger on the curves of his hands and arms for too long, but in the end you end up staring anyways.

Sanitization complete, he sits and turns to you. You wordlessly offer your injured hand, and he in turn accepts it into his own. His hand was still hot from the water, and you exhaled in relief from the contact.

Cedric hums as he inspects the damage, the wheels turning in the back of his eyes. With his silent inspection done, his amber eyes flick upwards to you.

"This is quite the nasty one, love. I'm afraid I can't do anything until I get the glass out. And it must come out immediately." Cedric proclaimed, grabbing a delicate pair of large forceps that cheekily glistened in the afternoon sun.

The glare seemed to mock you, and for the first time today you feel fear for what would become of your hand.

"Right." You nod meekly, unsure of how to answer. Even though you train your face to be neutral, Cedric knows that it's a thinly veiled facade. He gives you a gentle apologetic smile, leaning to give you a soft kiss on your forehead.

"Not to worry though; in that cabinet below you there's something to dull the pain." Cedric nodded in the direction he was talking about.

"I suggest taking it liberally before I do anything further." Cedric eyes you with a slightly mischievous grin, and you return his smile with a confused yet slightly amused one yourself.

Cautiously opening the drawer, you find a bottle of spirits waiting for you.

"Booze?" You scoff wildly, a laugh bubbling up from your chest. You whip your head towards Cedric as he joins in with your laughter.

"I promise, it's the fastest acting remedy I have at the moment!" Cedric gushed, trying his best to keep a straight face.

"I'm actually lucky enough to not need to keep healing magicks around the castle." He added more somberly, his laughter dying down. His eyes cast downwards to your hand again, a pained expression on his face.

"I'm sorry." You offer a weak apology, gesturing to your injury. You're again reminded of your position as an intruder in Cedric's work flow. You sigh inwardly, feeling uncomfortable.

"What do you need to apologize for?" Cedric cooed, shaking his head.

"I.. I don't know." You confess, thinking back to what got you in this mess at all. If only you weren't so clumsy. If only your head wasn't your worst enemy, enmeshing you into a dangerous trap whenever you feel stressed. If only you'd reach out to Cedric this time around, instead of trying to shoulder everything alone. But none of what came to mind seemed to satisfy what you felt most sorry for at all- because all of it was true, and all of it was you.

Your fault.

"...For just, being me I suppose." You finished, your voice noticeably cracking. Your throat begins to tighten up, and your eyes stung with a familiar pain.

"Y/N-" Cedric starts, but you quickly reach for the bottle in the cabinet as an excuse to move your face away before the tears begin to fall. With blurred vision, you swipe the alcohol from its resting spot and try in a vain attempt to open it one handed.

"Let me help," Cedric reached towards you, muttering a short spell to release the cap to the bottle. You sighed in resignation, staring at the stone floor as you try to regain your composure.

"Thank you, Cedric." You speak softly.

You force your eyes to meet his, hoping that he could see that you weren't just thanking him for opening the bottle. You and Cedric lock eyes for a moment, and a beat of silence passes.

Cedric breaks the tension with a bittersweet smile. "You know, I wish I could comfort you with more than words at the moment. But sadly, I'm sterile." He groaned comically, hanging his hand while he held his arms up in mock defeat.

You snicker, holding up the hefty liquor bottle in response. "Well, I guess it doesn't matter if I end up forgetting today ever happened."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves." Cedric looks at you pointedly, tutting in disapproval.

"Right, of course. How could I forget?" You ask sarcastically, moreso talking to yourself more than Cedric. Before the bottle touches your lips, however, you feel a hand wrap around your wrist.

You stop, shooting Cedric a puzzled look.

"I'm glad you came to me when you needed help." Cedric held your gaze boldly, his eyes aflame with a passion that made your heart skip a beat.

"And even if you do end up forgetting today... I don't ever want you to forget how much I care for you. You're never "in my way", no matter how busy I look." Cedric shakes his head, and for a moment you feel like a scolded child. You look away from the sorcerer in shame, fidgeting in place.

Seeing you cast your eyes away, his hand gently leaves your wrist and settles against your cheek. Cedric's fingers and thumb coax your head back up to look him in the eyes again.

"I know you struggle with feeling otherwise- but you don't need to apologize for it, either. We all struggle with something; what matters is how we can get the help we need to overcome it. Alright?"

Cedric finished gently, his hand leaving your face too soon for your liking. You stare in silent awe at his proclamation, and then feel a swell of pride at how far he's come to be able to say that with confidence.

With your heart ready to burst and your eyes already misting over, you eagerly nod in approval of his words.

"Yes, I think I can drink to that." You squeezed out, lifting the bottle in a toast to Cedric. His eyes twinkle with love in response, a smile creeping along his cheeks.

You down as much as you could in one sitting, the fiery liquid scalding your throat. You bite back coughs as you give one last chug, setting the concoction down in haste.

"I'm... ready." You slur, your body immediately feeling heavy.

"Right; let's get to work then." Cedric nodded, grabbing the forceps on his work table with a slight hesitation.

-----------------------------------------------

After about an hour of minor surgery, a few more swigs of alcohol, and a very distressed Violet storming Cedric's door to hunt you down (according to her, you left quite the horrific blood trail) you were thoroughly cleaned up and your hand was neatly bandaged.

While you were no longer incapacitated by your injury, you were just as helpless from being drunk during the procedure. Cedric had asked if you would rather see a doctor a couple of times, but honestly him taking care of you was the more appealing option.

Plus, the pain wasn't the only reason you needed a couple more drinks- this week was shit, and this was the first time you felt yourself loosen up.

"Alright, let's get you some fluids that isn't alcoholic in nature." Cedric chuckled, but you pouted as you relinquished the bottle to him.

"Oh, don't make that face at me. You've lost enough blood as it is without the alcohol thinning it." Cedric chided, mixing together fresh water with an herbal solution at his couldron.

You huff in response, laying your head lazily on the work table beside you. Your watch Cedric's face as he mixes together the solution meant for you, his brows burrowed and his lips purses in concentration. His white bangs hung slightly in his eyes, creating a dreamy curtain of silver as they catcyh the sun's rays.

Your cheeks already felt warm from being intoxicated, but now they burned like hot coals. Acting on a whim, you quietly get up from your chair to sneak behind Cedric. You knew he easily gets absorbed in his work, so even in your clumsy drunken state he hadn't realized your presence.

You slink to his side, your fingers eagerly reaching to touch his hair. Your fingertips brushed against the silky strands, catching Cedric's attention.

"Oh!" Cedric exclaimed, head raised in alarm at your sudden appearance.

"Haha, caught ya..!" You laughed, your body swaying dangerously in your delirium.

Cedric grabbed your waist, trying to steady you. You leaned in closer to him for support, your forehead resting comfortably into his chest.

"My, it seems you did..." Cedric murmured into your hair, gently stroking it. You hum in contentment, relishing the moment. He pulls you closer into a full embrace, and you return it swiftly.

"It seems like I have you now though, hm?" Cedric laughs lowly in your ear, and immediately you realize you've fallen perfectly into his trap.

"Damn..." You curse under your breath.

"So, what will you do with me?" You try to keep your face neutral, but you make sure to put in an extra flirtatious lilt to your voice.

You look up from your eyelashes to meet Cedric's face, and all he gives you in response is a raised eyebrow.

"Well, for starters... Make you drink this tea." Cedric thrust the cup into your face, and with a sigh you drink the beverage.

You wince at the intense bitter taste, and immediately you feel a little more sober. Reluctantly, you soldier on until it's all gone.

"Excellent. Now, to put you to bed." Cedric chirps, and before you can even process a flirty reply the sorcerer puts a finger to your lips.

"And no, not like that. So don't get any ideas." Cedric said sternly.

You chuckle, but say nothing in reply.

Cedric gently helps you to his bed, easing you down carefully and making sure your injury isn't being pressured.

You slowly get comfortable, sighing into the pillows as you inhale Cedric's scent.

"Would you like to drift off naturally, or would you like a sleep spell?" Cedric asked, already covering you with a blanket.

"Sleep spell... Please." You peek up at Cedric, taking in a final look of his eyes, his hair, his face, everything.

"All right." Cedric spoke softly, leaning in to give you a quick kiss on the lips. As his lips left yours, he uttered the spell you requested.

You feel the pull of sleep tug at your eyelids instantly, and you relax more into the fine down mattress. Cedric lingers by your side, watching to make sure the spell was taking effect. Seeing your eyes grow heavy, he whispers goodnight as he rises to return to his workshop.

Before you slip into unconsciousness, your last waking thought was how much you adored your sensational sorcerer.

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sitp-recs · 2 years

Note

hello liv! i really wanna read some fics but i don't really know what kind and what recs to look at and such so, since i trust your taste i thought i'd ask if you could rec me some random fics? wether their your all time fav, new favs, recently read or a while ago, new ones, old ones, short or long reads, or just some random ones. (but pls let them have drarry as the main pairing and endgame)

thank uuuuuu

Hi anon! I’d be cautious about your request in the past because I usually like to know more about someone’s reading preferences but it was fun to come up with a random reclist :) I decided to go for a mix of old favourites and fics I haven’t recced in the blog before. I hope you enjoy them!

Ten Faves chosen randomly:

Phoenix in the Fire by @fw00shy (2021, E, 1.4k)

Their first time was an accident. "Sex pollen," Draco claims, though everyone knows it was too much Ogden's after Puddlemere beat the Tornados 240-230.

Mortal Frame by @tackytigerfic (2021, M, 6.6k)

Draco’s on a mission, and this time it's personal. But it's not easy to track down something that no one wants to talk about, especially when Harry Potter keeps popping up everywhere Draco goes.

break the bad luck in my life by seaworn (2019, E, 11k)

Draco and Harry are both brooding on Christmas Eve.

Voices From The Fog by noeon (2010, E, 13k)

After years of running away, Harry crosses paths with an all-too familiar face and follows him to Amsterdam.

Turn and Face the Strange (time may change me) by @punk-rock-yuppie (2019, T, 16k)

Draco and Harry and how their relationship—and themselves—change over the course of eleven years.

Better To Burn Than To Fade Away by Ren (2017, E, 23k)

Harry Potter is a legend in the world of broomstick racing. He's won almost every cup, trophy, and bowl – except for the historical London-Nome which has been on hiatus for the past several years.

Doing the Lambeth Walk by @blamebrampton (2012, T, 26k)

There are only three traditional choices for the cashed-up hero after victory. Harry Potter is too young to settle down and provide the wizarding world with a happy ending, and has too acute a sense of humour to spiral downwards into a spectacular flame-out. That leaves a life of good works.

The Wand Slipped by sdk (2019, E, 35k)

After a messy, public divorce and a disgraceful exit from the Auror Department, Harry is trying to rebuild his life as a private investigator.

The Boy Who Only Lived Twice by lettered (2012, E, 54k)

Harry Potter is an Unspeakable. Draco Malfoy is the wizard who shagged him. Adventure! Intrigue! Secret identities, celebrities, spies! It's all right here, folks.

A Thousand Beautiful Things by geoviki (2004, M, 104k)

Draco Malfoy struggles with changed fortunes, shifted alliances, an ugly war, and an unusual spell, with the help of a concerned professor, an insightful house-elf, and an unexpected Gryffindor friend.

Ten fics I’ve never recced before:

Magpie by @corvuscrowned (2022, E, 4k)

Potter doesn't steal because he needs anything, Draco quickly learns. He doesn't do it because it makes him feel anything. It isn't about power, and it isn't about control. Potter just does it because he can.

acts of service by @oknowkiss (2022, E, 5.6k)

Harry's sick, and Draco just wants to take care of him, but they're two idiots in love, so it couldn't possibly be that easy.

Move, Move by @maesterchill (2021, M, 9k)

At Stasis nightclub Ginny does indeed give Harry drugs. But it's all good: Malfoy looks after Harry, and Harry grapples with newfound enlightenments, not to mention a newfound fascination with all things Malfoy—one which persists even when he finds out what Malfoy's up to.

The Thread Through the Labyrinth by mindabbles (2013, M, 11k)

Harry was twenty-one the first time it happened; he was twenty-one and falling in love for the first time. It seems he'll go back, travel through time, until he finds the anchor that keeps him here.

Sourdough by @academicdisasterfic (2021, M, 17k)

Draco writes romance novels and doesn't leave his apartment much. Harry bakes bread and sells it to Draco. Draco is quite weird. Harry might like that.

Violent Delights by @primaveracerezos (2021, E, 20k)

Draco Malfoy's life should be going very well. He's engaged to a wonderful man and in line for the Head Auror job. He's been made lead investigator on a serial murder case, trying to figure out who is killing off the scum of the wizarding world, one by one.

Survival of the Species by @romaine2424 (2007, E, 46k)

Draco approaches Harry on the 9 ¾ platform, after their sons have boarded the Hogwarts Express, and invites him over for tea. The discussion they have leads them on an adventure that neither could have expected. There be dragons!

Vis-à-Vis-à-Vis by @vukovich (2022, E, 50k)

Harry's assignment was simple. Close out Draco Malfoy's missing persons case so he can be declared dead. But who's making withdrawals from Malfoy's vaults? How is a death omen-turned-Unspeakable involved? Is an organization known as the Moirai to blame?

The Bolthole by aideomai, GallaPlacidia, Tepre (2020, E, 54k)

Harry is a hoarder, Draco is grief-stricken, and both are capable human adults who can definitely spend a month in a cottage in the Cotswolds together without ever talking about the time they slept together in eighth year. Yeah, no, totally.

Ocean of Storms by Bounding-Heart (2017, E, 113k)

The war is over and Harry has returned to help rebuild Hogwarts. He longs to move forwards, but the past refuses to let him go.

#asks #anon #random reclist

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sentinelpri · 1 year

Text

Wings

It’s roughly six o’clock as Gohan flies up to the lookout, his ki calm and unhidden. Dende is calmly sat on the edge, legs dangling off and onyx eyes trained on the sea of blue sky and clouds beneath him. It’s been a few months since Gohan has visited, though he tries not to let that bother him; the half-Saiyan has apparently been busy with ‘finals’ since he’s in his ‘senior year’ of high school. Dende isn’t sure he understands any of it, but the importance of finals is something that most young humans seem to stress, so he tries to be supportive.

He lets out a sigh as Gohan peaks above the lookout, flies up, and lands on his feet next to where Dende is sitting. The ravenette is dressed in a dark grey sweatshirt and some matching pants, rectangular glasses framing his face and inky locks trimmed short.

‘What amazing timing,’ Dende thinks.

Just moments before, he was trapped within the realm of his own mind, isolated and lonely. Most of his days are spent reflecting on why he decided to accept this job to watch over earth from atop the beautiful yet empty lookout with no one to keep him company but Mr. Popo, and Piccolo who occasionally visits. It’s odd, as Mr. Popo and Piccolo have both tried and failed in their own awkward way to reach Dende through the fog of his own loneliness. Gohan is- and has been the only one- to know exactly what Dende needs and when he needs it, just like tonight, just like right now.

Every time Dende is lost like this, alone up on the lookout, Gohan is the one who comes to find him. So, while he doesn’t enjoy being lost, he’ll remain that way if it means that Gohan will always be the one to find him.

Gohan sits down on the ledge next to Dende, perhaps a little closer than two beings with a platonic relationship should really sit. Dende’s right thigh brushes against Gohan’s left, and though he should move away, he scoots closer and reaches for Gohan’s hand. Gohan accepts by intertwining their fingers and resting his head against Dende’s. Meanwhile, the Namekian can sense that Mr. Popo’s ki is somewhat fading, meaning that the assistant deity must have gone to his private quarters to give them some alone time.

“How’ve you been?” Gohan starts off, voice low.

“Fine,” Dende answers. He knows it isn’t true, and so does Gohan, but neither of them mention it. Their routine has always been like this with Gohan sporadically showing up to provide Dende with some emotional and mental relief before leaving for another few months. Neither of them talk all that much, just catch up on the basics and spend the night together before the morning. Then, when morning comes, Gohan leaves and things go back to being lonely again. It’s been their normal since Dende became the guardian seven or eight years ago. It’s been so long now that the years feel like they’ve blurred into each other. “Things have been the same as usual up here for the most part. Mr. Popo did manage to hybridize blue and purple roses to make some black ones, so that’s interesting. Aside from that, things have been pretty much the same. What about you? Did you finish your, er… Finals?”

“Oh, yeah, that was last month! I actually had my graduation recently, here, lemme get out my phone and show you…”

Gohan shows Dende pictures of him on stage at his high school graduation, giving a speech as the valedictorian always does. Dende doesn’t necessarily understand the title, but he knows at the very least that it’s some sort of accomplishment that he should commend Gohan for, so he does. It’s such a small, trivial thing in the grand scheme of their journey- so far away in the civil human society- so funny to look at from the top of the lookout that oversees the entirety of earth. Yet, he enjoys Gohan showing him these things; revels in it, even.

“Good job, Gohan. I’m proud of you.”

“Oh, thanks,” The teen- no, adult, now- smiles with a light blush on his cheeks and sits up straight so he can awkwardly scratch the back of his neck. “Ah, I can’t help but be embarrassed…”

“What’s there to be embarrassed about? You’ve made a good life for yourself. You should be proud, too.”

Gohan blinks, then rests his head on Dende’s shoulder once more.

“Thank you… Should I play some music for us?”

“Sure.”

The light of the sun goes down, shrouding them in darkness that’s only disrupted by the blanket of stars in the sky.

And underneath a trillion stars, Gohan takes Dende by the hands and pulls him into a dance they’ve done a million times before on top of this very lookout. Their fingers are intertwined with Dende’s talons gently brushing the tops of Gohan’s wrists as they dance, feet moving close together, perfectly in rhythm.

Dende dares to look Gohan in the eye, only to see that the taller man is zoning out. The music from his phone, which is left in his back pocket, is slightly muffled and continues on in the background.

“What are you thinking about?” Dende questions.

“The fact that we’ll probably remember tonight and all the other ones for the rest of our lives even though we never act on what we’re feeling… Or, I don’t, at least.”

Being around Gohan like this already puts Dende in a foreign state, but said state is made even worse when the half-Saiyan casually says romantic shit like that without a thought about how it could make Dende’s heart slam against his chest or a thought about how it could cloud what’s left of Dende’s logical mind with saccharine fantasies and memories. All of his coherent thoughts seem to slip away, and all Dende can think to respond with is a furrowed brow and a suspicious-

“What do you want from me, Gohan?”

“What do I want?”

“Let me rephrase that,” Dende pauses, withdraws his hands from Gohan’s, and crosses his arms. He has to tilt his head up to match the other man’s eyes now when just a few years ago, they were the same height. “Why do we keep doing this? Why do you keep doing this? Don’t you have better things to do? Humans to court instead of myself? I don’t have anything to offer you. I come from a dwindling race, a poor family, and now, I spend my days alone on this lookout. My duty for the rest of my days will be watching over this planet from here and I can’t leave unless it’s under dire circumstances. Is that what you really want for yourself? What do you want, Gohan? That’s what I mean.”

“I just wanna be by your side,” Gohan sighs.

“I don’t know how long I can handle this- this inconsistency from you. I know you have a much bigger life than me; friends, a family, college, you’re the strongest and one of the smartest people on your planet, but it’s not fair to me for you to just come and go here as you please either. So how long do you want to keep this up for? Do you actually want a relationship with me or am I just a fling to you before you find someone else to settle down with?”

“You know it’s not like that Dende, I just… It’s hard to balance everything between my mom, Goten, school, and you. I’ll try to get better about things because I really do love you, and I want us to be able to have nights like this for the rest of our lives.”

Dende stops and thinks of everything they’ve been through together; of Gohan. Whatever words he had left to say leave him as if they’ve caught an aeroplane right off the lookout and into the cold, hard ground. His brain turns to static. Gohan stares at him, expectant, so Dende does the only thing he knows how and shows Gohan he loves him through their actions, mending their lips together and not daring to utter so much as a noise when Gohan lifts him up and carries him to his private quarters.

They don’t have sex that night. They never have, actually, as Gohan is too shy to initiate and Dende doesn’t understand the human obsession with it. They simply go to Dende’s bed and spend the night in each other’s arms, talking about anything and everything for hours on end. Gohan falls asleep first like he always does, and Dende gets a quick nap in but nothing more. As per usual, Dende wakes up first.

The sunlight comes creeping in through the blinds of Dende’s private quarters right at dawn, washing over Gohan’s sleeping form. The half-Saiyan is still sleeping peacefully, much to Dende’s relief. It gives him ample time to take Gohan in while he can; silky raven locks draped on the lush pillow above his head like a halo, muscular yet narrow chest rising and falling with each steady breath, sunlight illuminating his pale skin.

Dende watches the day on earth go by with his stomach sinking like tar. Billions of people, some of them just now waking up, some of them just now going to bed, going about their lives. Some are prospering. Some are suffering. Many of them are just average, going to work, coming home to their families, and repeating the cycle. Miserable monotony. Regardless, they have more variety than Dende does as the guardian of earth, and the Namekian can’t help but be somewhat envious of them. All the watching is messily blended with the conversation he and Gohan had the night prior.

Gohan finally admitted to loving him, finally promised to change, but does that really alter what they’ve built up all these years?

Careful not to wake the ravenette up, he gets out of bed and peeks through the blinds to see Mr. Popo tending to his garden of blue roses. The flowers make him think of Gohan, bright and resilient with some sort of hidden meaning about ‘unattainable love’ and ‘mystery’ according to the scroll he has about earth’s floriography.

He knows that, in another hour or two, Gohan will be woken up by the brightness of the sunlight against his onyx eyes. Then, Gohan will slowly rise out of bed, get dressed, and awkwardly try to disregard the events of the night before. Mr. Popo won’t look at them when they exit Dende’s private quarters.

Dende internally damns the walls of the lookout. While they may be invisible, they are very much there, keeping him trapped in solitude with his only true relief being Gohan’s occasional visits.

With Gohan, Dende is invincible, and that’s just how it’s always been. He feels like he’s ten feet tall instead of five, feels like he’s stronger than Goku and Piccolo and all of the other strong fighters he’s come to know since Frieza’s invasion of Namek so many years ago.

But then, when Gohan leaves, he feels weak again; like that little boy Frieza burned to ashes back then.

In an attempt to let Gohan sleep a little longer, Dende closes the blinds before carefully climbing back into bed, but it doesn’t help. Gohan wakes early like he always does with his soft eyes fluttering open and his long limbs stretching out to shake the sleepiness from a good night’s rest.

“Mm, mornin’, Dende,” Gohan greets and sits up in bed. Dende doesn’t speak yet, eyeing Gohan up and down. The half-Saiyan took his shirt off at some point last night to sleep, leaving him in his grey sweats. As per usual, Dende can’t help but admire every sharp ridge and subtle curve of Gohan’s muscular figure. When his eyes reach the defined v-line that disappears into aforementioned sweatpants, they flicker away, suddenly training themselves on the wall as if it has become the most interesting thing in the room. “How’d you sleep?”

“Fine,” Dende lies. His sleep was restless and constantly interrupted by his own thoughts like it always is. Still, he doesn’t want to worry Gohan with something he can’t even begin to understand let alone fix. The ravenette has enough worries as it is between his family, friends, and school. “You?”

“Pretty good, actually,” Gohan answers with a small yawn.

‘Here comes the worst part,’ Dende thinks, a hundred percent sure that Gohan is going to slink out of bed, put his shirt and shoes on, and leave like he always does.

However, before that can happen, Gohan moves to where Dende is to pull the Namekian into a tight hug.

“Uh, Gohan? What are you doing?”

“Hugging you? What, do you not like it? I can stop,” Gohan offers and starts to pull away, which has Dende returning the hug and practically clinging to the student.

“No, it just caught me off guard, but you can keep doing it.”

Gohan sighs.

“Hey, uh… About what you said last night… I’m sorry, I really am. It’s not right of me to do this with you only to just leave you up here for a few months at a time,” Gohan pulls back and stands from the bed to put his shoes on. “It must get really lonely. We’re more than friends, sure, but I know I’m one of your only friends and I should put more effort into balancing my time with you with my schooling and my family instead of just coming here when it’s convenient, so… I was already thinking about it, but you mentioning what you did last night just solidified my decision. For college, I’m going to do online school so I have some more time to myself. Maybe I can start alternating by spending a week at a time with my family then coming here for a week? And we can rotate back and forth.”

Dende’s heart flutters. As subtle as he can, he reaches over and pinches his own arm, half-convinced that he must still be asleep, dreaming. But the pinch hurts like hell and Gohan is still very much sat in front of him with an anxious look on his face as he waits for Dende’s response.

“I, um, I would like that! You could even bring some of your stuff here, I’ll make room for you in the closet and add an additional shelf in the room for you to use and-”

“You don’t have to do any of that,” Gohan smiles, puts his glasses on, and reaches forward to caress Dende’s cheek with one hand. “I’m just happy to be here with you. We’ll figure it out as we go.”

“...Thank you.”

They share a glance, and then another. After that, Gohan speaks again.

“I know you don’t technically need to eat, but do you maybe want to have a picnic on top of the lookout or something? You guys have unlimited food here, right?”

Dende shrugs, then nods.

“Sure, sounds romantic enough. Let’s go.”

And so, instead of leaving like he usually does, Gohan takes Dende’s hand and walks him to the lookout, officially marking the beginning of their new normal.

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