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whiskeyskin · 6 months ago

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Different kind of Intimacy

Premise: After Astarion's confession at Moonrise, you decide that your usual style of feeding just won't cut it any more.

• Astarion x gn!Tav • Mild rating •

Reader POV, fluff, conversation about boundaries set, sweetness, understanding, softness, Astarion feeding, despite female in the inspo picture no mention of gender, love, security, intimacy, doped out Astarion

2.3k words

Shoutout to @ladyofthecreed for this beautiful piece of art for @aevallare! How stunning is it? 🥹💜 And thanks to @crepsley for the tag 🙌

This is a little different than my usual smutty style but I saw this picture and felt inspired to write something a little softer for our boy ☺️

•°•°•

"You can feed on me tonight, if you'd like." You offered with a smile.

"I was so hoping you'd say that." He lilted back to you.

You took a breath to speak again and stopped.

"Yes, my sweet. What is it?" He questioned, with a curious tilt of his head.

After the incident with the Drow at Moonrise yesterday, Astarion had confessed some deep feelings and troubles he'd had.

After he'd admitted his growing feelings for you, despite it starting out as a manipulation, he'd stated very plainly that he didn't want anyone to think of him in terms of sex but that he still wanted to be with you.

So, you'd suggested that you'd become friends first, instead of lovers. That you would still be together but wouldn't have sex until he was ready, if he ever would be.

He'd obviously joked and tried to lessen the mood with a flippant remark but you'd learned him well enough to see he was appreciative of the gesture.

You'd pulled him into a hug, and after his inital shock, he'd held on so tightly he had been reluctant to let go.

He'd offered his hand to hold yours and a silent bond was made between you.

You'd been thinking on this development between you this last day since your conversation together. Pondering on ways to make him more comfortable, to give him more autonomy within the relationship.

Astarion had been very sweet and attentive throughout the day. Like something had settled within him, like something had slotted into place.

He'd stuck very close by you, while carefully adventuring through the perilous Shadowlands.

During battle he'd taken a more protective and defensive role around you, instead of stealthy and offensive. Several times throughout the day, he had slid his hand within yours and lightly squeezed - completely unprompted - just to feel the warmth of your skin.

He'd also spotted something that would be valuable to you in a fight and gifted it to you; you didn't ask how he'd gotten it, even though you could probably guess.

And now, it was time to settle down for the night, he'd dragged his bedroll to rest next to you. Producing a small potion from his pack, you assumed he was probably already hungry and needed to feed, hence your invitation, but you needed to discuss this first.

"I've been thinking, about what you said last night, about not thinking of you in terms of sex," you started, his face pulled into an unsure expression, "It's nothing bad, it's that I've been thinking about how you feed. It's quite, sexually charged. Especially the way you feed. It's urgent and rough and-"

"-Rough? I-I thought I was being gentle. You've not said anything since that first night. I-" He sounded hurt, afraid he'd been causing you pain. You hushed his worries.

"That's not what I meant, I'm not making an issue of it, I promise. It's not something to be sorry for, it hasn't bothered me until now. I thought it was all part and parcel of the experience; foreplay, if you will?" You shrugged.

"I mean, you'd feed, get hard and then we'd usually fuck. But now I believe we need to re-think our approach." You explained further.

"It's not that having sex wasn't out of desire for you. It's-it's complicated to explain," he signed with a furrowed brow.

"I told you, that it's not that I'm not attracted to you, trust me," he smiled wickedly, you shook your head and went to speak but he cut across you to continue, "You are wholly different to ones I've seduced before. This was of my own voilition, for one - although out of necessity as transactional protection but - things have changed. I've changed. You've made me see what I'm capable of. You've.." he paused, swallowing and looking around the vicinity for the right words, "You've encouraged me. Had faith in me. Shown me kindness I've not felt in two centuries. I care for you in a way I thought impossible, but I don't know how to be with someone, without reliving the past.. But I desperately want this to be real, truly real." His claret eyes bore into yours, pleading and sad. You slowly raised your hand to cup the side of this face.

"This is real, just because it's not a sexual relationship, doesn't mean it's not real." You smiled, reassuring his doubts. He closed his eyes and leaned into your palm. Your heart squeezed as his cool cheek pressed further into the warmth.

"The act of a vampire feeding on someone has been made inherently sexual. It's been fetishised, and so in turn, has the whole vampire thing. Which works to the vamp's advantage. I can't blame the people for it. Being bitten, being fed on is an intoxicating experience." You couldn't help but shudder at the memories of you both pressed together.

"For me too," He breathed, his neck tensing, "The feeling of feeding has no match."

You smiled softly and sighed, "Like you said, 'There's nothing more desirable in the world than a vampire'." You both pursed your lips in bitter resignation.

"So, to remedy this, we need to unsexualise it going forward," you continued, "Before feeding was all teeth and rubbing up against each other like animals. Now, it's going to be slow and intimate. Not sexual intimacy, true intimacy."

"It's different to the enemies you drain on the road, or in battle. It's you and me, and that's special. We need to make it special." You smoothed the cool touch of his cheek under your thumb.

He swallowed and sat up, intrigued, "What did you have in mind, my dear?"

You certainly had had some ideas.

"Well, you've tried both of the 'best' places to feed from; the jugular and the femoral," you announced, gesturing to your neck and inner thigh, "But I was thinking of the wrist? It's a pretty neutral place to feed from."

"Sounds reasonable. It's certainly a slower feed than the neck, or thigh." He agreed with a head tilt, "Although they are an awful lot of fun." He said through tilted gaze and a dangerous grin, his hand gliding up your thigh to caress it.

Your stomach flipped from habit, but you squashed it down.

"Stop it," you chastised him with a gentle nose boop. He scrunched his face and let out a small, high chuckle. His hand relented to your knee, thumbing the seam where he'd stitched a hole for you.

"Feeding will be more about taking the time to connect with each other, without sex. It'll be slow, patient.. calming." You let out a long, cleansing breath and blinked slowly, to emphasise the point.

"Well, then. Henceforth, I shall drink from your wrist when you're resting." He gave a tilted nod.

"Um, no. I was going to suggest feeding before sleep. I'd like to be present with you. Truly present with you. Not groggy from sleep, or blissed from sex. I'd like to be with you."

He looked taken aback, but interested, "Alright then.. feeding before rest," he said, testing the idea on his tongue. He seemed to measure it acceptable before asking, "Could I.. request something of you.. while I feed?" He asked, his words measured.

"Of course, darling." You answered enthusiastically, glad for his input.

"Would you.. play with my hair?" He requested, a little sheepishly, "I-I find it. It's not a sexual thing, before I always hated it but.. when you do it-it's.. comforting to me. I-I don't know why."

Your heart swelled and your eyes began to gently fill at the surprisingly sweet request.

"Of course, I will." You smiled, blinking back unexpected tears.

Astarion smiled back and took a faux breath and huffed it out in expectation.

"So, shall we, my dear?" He flourished a hand for you to lie down.

"We shall," you nodded, "How do you wish to do this?"

"Lying down would be fine." He suggested.

"If that's what you'd like." You began unfolding your leg from the crossed position to stretch it before laying down.

"Wait.." he stopped, then looked up through curious eyes, "What about this?" He asked, as he gently laid the side of his head down on your thigh.

You beamed, "That's nice.. wait-" You scooched a little more, "Lay on your back."

He did as he was told and shuffled around so the back of his head lay fully on the cushioning meat of your crossed leg, the other extended alongside his body.

You gazed down at him laying contentedly in your lap, "How's that?" You asked.

He manoeuvred himself to rest more squarely, testing the feeling, which he seemed to agree with.

"Comfortable."

"Which wrist?" You offered both in the air.

"Wrap your arms around, and I'll feed from your non-dominant one."

You leaned down more, rounding your spine so you weren't sat so upright. You cradled his head with your arms and let your wrists hang loose.

Astarion took your hand and wriggled himself within your arm's embrace, then looked up and smiled at you. Your own broadened across your face.

"Is this alright?"

He nodded, paused then crooked a finger at you.

You bent down a little more and he brought his fingers to tenderly grasp your chin and pulled you in for a delicate kiss, barely anything in comparison to others you had, but filled with a warmth and softness that hadn't been there before.

"Thank you." He breathed, "For thinking of this, for respecting my wishes."

The breath was stolen from your lungs and your chest ached. You couldn't deny it aby longer. You were in love with him.

You didn't reply, you simply pressed a kiss to his forehead, "Eat up."

He paused again, looking like he was about to say something but decided against it. He took your hand and carefully pulled up the sleeve, before bringing it to his nose to inhale deeply.

This was a little ritual he liked to do, like a fine wine; you have to smell the bouquet.

He chastely pecked several times at the thin blue lines on your inner wrist, before slowly sinking his fangs and drinking deeply.

The pain, while still present, was surprisingly minimal. Much less sharp than his usual snapping bite down on your neck, or inner thigh.

You rest your other arm on his chest, but quickly his other hand grasped your hand and placed it on his hair.

You grinned to yourself, "My mistake, sorry dear." You admonished yourself, giggling, while beginning to weave your fingers into his loose curls.

Astarion mumbled against your skin, something sassy no doubt, but it was hushed by the sensation of his hair being twisted between your deft fingers.

He moaned into your wrist; it wasn't with reverent pleasure, it was in contentment.. ease..

You stared down at the beautiful pale Elf laying in your lap, feeding gently on your life force. His ears were lightly wiggling as he drank, latched onto skin.

You stifled a laugh, he was like a kitten nursing milk. It was too adorable. Of course, you'd never seen this angle to witness it before. It was beyond endearing.

He looked so peaceful with his eyes closed, slowly drinking his fill of your blood. His body language relaxed, instead of poised to pounce. The pace of his pulls against your wrist laboured and suckling.

Seeing him like this, calm and steady, instead of scared and jittering, unlocked a compartment of your heart you'd fervently kept closed off from the world.

Gods, you loved him.

You loved him so much you ached.

Your heart physically panged to see him so blissfully unbothered and relaxed.

You brushed his hair out of his face, and twirled it between your fingers. You smoothed his locks like petting a contented animal, and wove fingertips under the length, to massage the base of his skull.

Each movement illiciting a gratified sigh, his body sinking lower and lower into your lap.

After a while, your head started to feel woozy and your extremities were starting to go cold and numb.

"Astarion?" You whispered, gently rubbing your hand on his chest and tapping twice with your peace fingers, "That's enough, love."

He stirred, dazed from feeding. He clamped his two fingers on the puncture marks, as you reached for the healing potion from his pack to pour over them. A small drizzle and the marks were healed.

You took a steading breath and swigged the rest down to help with restoration of blood before a spell from Shadowheart in the morning.

Stoppering the empty bottle and placing it on the ground, Astarion's weight still lay heavy on your lap.

His lips and teeth dyed the colour of you, as he smiled dopily, eyes remaining closed.

You sat with him in the moment, returning to weave his white curls between your fingers. The vague warmth of your blood coarsing through him transferring back to you through skin contact.

Astarion let out a serene and easy sigh, his eyes heavy as he tried to open them.

"That felt.. very different." He whispered, almost like he was breathless.

You kissed your fingers that waited on his chest and pressed them to his temple. He kissed the air back at you, body still heavy and exhausted.

"I don't know how to describe it. My body feels heavy, but light.."

The light pulse of your blood through his dead veins was present again under the pads of your fingers.

"I assume this new feeding technique is a success then, dove?" You inquired, keeping your voice low.

Astarion swallowed thickly, the stain of blood still on his teeth. He licked his lips lethargicly, "Most certainly. I feel.. completely.. utterly.. totally.."

"I hope the end of this sentence is a good one." You teased at his lack of composure.

He let out a sharp exhale of amusement through his nose, "It is.." he muttered.

You smoothed the line of his jaw, careful to not touch his sensitive ears. You smiled at the recent memory of them twitching as he fed.

"Did you know your ears wiggle up and down when you feed?" You asked in soft merriment.

"I did not.." he replied, flexing his eyebrows slowly.

"It's very cute."

"I am not cute." He tried to exert, with not much conviction, "I am a terrible creature of the night, feeding on helpless victims. I am a monster. I am not cute." He posited in feigned outrage.

You gazed down at the soft, tortured, beautiful soul in front of you and quickly blinked back the tears that swelled.

"No, you're not my love.. and I promise one day you'll see yourself the way I see you." You beamed at him.

Astarion squeezed your had three times, you repeat it back. You take a shaking breath in and blow it out, smiling.

A different kind of intimacy.

•°•°•

Yo.. down here.. fancy some more? 👀

#astarion #bg3 astarion #bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x gn!tav #astarion x you #astarion x reader #bg3 fluff

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the-dormant-ocean · 3 days ago

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Dean jokes with a woman at a bar that she has amazing tastes for being into him and not into nerds like his brother. She laughs and says "It's not even about that. I just don't find him attractive." and Dean immediately stops laughing.

He is confused, shocked and appalled. He was joking. He cannot phantom that someone can't find Sam attractive. She probably just didn't get a good look at him! There's no way she isn't into tall, wide shoulders, narrow waist, big hands and plainly adorable Sam. He actually goes to fetch Sam to show him to her.

The woman is still not interested in Sam and the conversation is getting heated because is she implying that Dean's brother is unattractive??? Who does she think she is?! The conversation only gets weirder and weirder as Dean keeps praising and raving about his brother's ASSests.

They both get kicked out of the bar for causing trouble and Sam is in utter disbelief at what happened. While they are walking back to the car Sam tears Dean a new one because what the fuck was that??? "Dean, you almost undressed me in the middle of a bar because the woman you wanted to sleep with said I wasn't attractive and then got mad at her when she didn't change her mind! What the fuck is wrong with you???" "Oh, I'm sorry for not wanting to sleep with people with no taste." "What????"

#Dean: You don't want to fuck my brother??? That's suspicious... Even I want to fuck him...#The woman: wha-#Dean: NOTHING #Dean Weirdo Winchester #supernatural #spn #wincest #samdean #weirdcest

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neil-gaiman · 1 year ago

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Hello Mr Neil,

I want to share how I feel about Sherryl the supermodel from Good Omens. You've answered a question previously when someone felt that her representation was lacking empathy (re the visual effects note in the script book, although the scene was cut), and I want to offer my thoughts to help people who felt that way about Sherryl.

The book (Good Omens, not the scripts, which I haven't read) plays with dark topics and makes them absurd and fun, aiming the jabs at the systems that (mis)guide or harm people (there are Beliefs, the People who Believe them, and the odd ways of living that make sense to them). Famine's D-Plan sums up the diet industry and a culture of starvation: of course we don't laugh /at/ Sherryl, we understand (because of everything the novel sets up) that like every other human she does her best with the frameworks she's got. It's empathetic, because that's what Good Omens is. Understanding that let me reframe the knee-jerk reaction I had on my first read of the scene in the book.

[For the TV show, though, as you've explained in the past, certain things had to be adapted to the time. I wonder sometimes - because I know that you do these things well - how you felt about approaching Sherryl nearly 30 years later.]

I think the trouble for me was that the scene in the book felt cruel at first. Now, I think 'A skeleton in a Dior dress' beautifully sums up the sacrifice of her humanity to become New York's top model. It's death dressed up - that's how such extremely-ill supermodels *should* appear to us if only we were unblinkered. One should see plainly the actual violence in an emaciated person's appearance. Maybe growing up with early 2000s aggressive body-shaming British TV shows and an overweight mother of Sherryl's generation as well as personal experience of anorexia made the 'skeleton' image feel cruel, now-overdone and recognisable to the nastiest unhealed bits in my psyche.

I think the frightened human animal in me initially recoiled from the dehumanisation. The pit of me jerked at the descriptions of Sherryl that felt like real insults, pulled straight from mainstream body-shaming media of my formative years. Of course, Good Omens predates this - thin was in, religiously, and the scene was subversive then - but that was my initial bodily feeling, not a thoughtful response. I describe it to illustrate where the challenge was, after we've gone from skinny worship in the 90s, to domestic skinny enforcement, to skinny shame, to wherever we are now in the popular orthorexic fitness culture and clean-eating minefield etc etc. Starvation dehumanises, and Sherryl was sick to the point of being inhuman - the scene under a microscope might feel complicit in dehumanisation to the sensibilities of teens and young adults today (for the same reason that people in Trafalgar Square can't see England), but within the book it humanises Sherryl by showing you plainly what awful thing has happened to her.

What the book did for me was let me delight in a sense of humour that makes difficult things totally absurd and therefore perfectly understandable. It told me, everyone is doing their best (to the best of their understanding), and when the fun-poking poked at my own pressure points, it said, lovingly, yes, you too. Many things about the book are like laughing with a friend or receiving a warm hug - it makes the big things so silly, and shared, and okay.

Thanks :) x <3

I am glad that is how you saw her. That is how we saw her. (I'm reminded of the only time I was ever at a high fashion event, where I found myself profoundly shocked by the incredible thinness of the models, and how sorry for them I felt, and how I wanted to feed them soup and stew and sandwiches. And of a high fashion model I knew a little, when she went out with a friend of mine, who told me that some girls she knew used heroin to stop the hunger pains, injecting themselves between their toes, and later I learned that my friend broke up with her when he learned she was a heroin addict.)

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inkdrinkerworld · 1 year ago

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hotch and reader who've had a fight so he's testy and short fused with the team all day till david/emily call you to tell you to come over to the bau and sort it out so he's not so difficult to work with

in hindsight, it was a stupid to be upset with each other over. you're both adults, so there's no way that between work and chores that you'd both see each other as much as a normal couple.

you and aaron were really just missing each other and couldn't get enough of each other to the point where you both came resentful at the ringing phones and being stolen away for work.

you weren't ready to let the fight be and neither was aaron. you just didn't know how bad he was taking it till your phone was pinging at work.

there's a million texts from his co-workers begging you to make up so he isn't so snappy and mean. even rossi texted.

with a sigh, you say, "i'm going for lunch," and grab your bag and head to the precinct.

when you get there, you see the chaos your husband has caused. there's more people than necessary in the bullpen, desks are crowded and people are walking around with hurried steps.

"what's going on?" you ask spencer as you spot him in the kitchenette.

"hotch is making everyone redo case reports, apparently it's not up to par." he's stirring an ungodly amount of sugar into his coffee. "i think he just needs to feel busy so he doesn't mull over your falling out."

spencer had gotten like a brother over the years you and aaron had been together and he's a damn good profiler so you're not surprised him or anyone else is aware of your fight.

"i'll go talk to him," spencer pats your shoulder, a marker of good luck as you weave through bodies to get to your husband's office.

you knock and his gruff, 'come in' isn't the least bit shocking. fights with him can consume him because he feels it's all his fault and that if something bad is happening it's because of him.

"aaron?" you mumble, skin clammy as you step into the hot, dark office.

"y/n, what are you doing here?" not honey. so he's still pretty pissed off.

"david said you weren't having the best day ever, so i thought we'd better sort the fight out." you say plainly as you sit on the lip of his desk.

you watch aaron's eyebrows crease to meet each other and then smooth out a couple times. "you know it's not your fault that we don't see each other as much as we'd like to, don't you?" you ask and watch your husband's shoulders sag.

"it's not yours either," he says softly, ashamed that he had implied that to you when you'd suggested having a day with just you two. "work is just work."

you nod, your hands reaching for his chair and rolling it closer to you. "it's hard, we both work odd hours, and that's fine." you reassure him, hands lost in his glossy hair. "but we have days off to take, even if it's just one."

aaron nods, letting his forehead fall to your sternum with a sigh. "i'm not mad at you for having a job like this, one that you love. i'd never ask you to leave it either, we just need to get better at managing our time together." you whisper the words as you continue playing with his hair.

"i'd never ask you to leave your either. i'm sorry everything got so convoluted." he says and you smile, kissing the crown of his head.

"i'm sorry too, my love." aaron raises his head and presses his lips to your jaw. "though, i think you need to apologise to david and the rest of the team. they've got agents from every department in the bullpen."

aaron sighs, his arms wrapping around your waist. "let them be busy for a little while longer, haven't had quiet time with my wife in a little while."

#aaronhotchner #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x black!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x yn #criminal minds x reader

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devonpink · 2 months ago

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Conversion in the Deep

Far from land and deep in the sea, lives a world undiscovered by humanity. In an underwater kingdom where merpeople not only exist but thrive. Ruling over them is King Lyle, his wife, and his only offspring, Prince Dorian.

On the morning of his 25th birthday, Dorian was not his usual cheerful self but distressed, swimming back and forth in one of the castle's many gardens. "What kind of a birthday surprise was that?!" He was utterly flabbergasted over what his father had sprung on him only a half hour ago. "An arranged marriage?! With a mermaid, no less! When is he gonna get it through that thick head of his that I'm gay! Gay, gay gay!"

Unbeknownst to Dorian, his future bride, Princess Alana, was not far behind, watching and following him in curious wonderment. She couldn't help but eavesdrop. Neither could the royal guards. "It has to be a joke?" Dorian questioned, trying to keep his head on straight. "I'm sure that's what it is! There's no way my father is that-" Dorian was too lost in his own head to realize Alana had swam up behind him. So when he abruptly flipped around. Boom! They smacked right into one another, face-on. They were mere centimeters away from accidentally kissing, causing Dorian's face to immediately blush from embarrassment—he was redder than a cooked crab. "Oh! I'm so sorry! I wasn't paying attention!"

"It's okay! I should have said something." Alana insisted, hoping to soothe Dorian's embarrassment. She smirked slightly, thoroughly amused with how awkwardly cute Dorian's nervous expression was. That pared with his muscular build making him even sexier. She swam back slightly to give them some breathing space, easing him further. However, she couldn't help but give in to her feminine wiles. "I hope you blush as cutiely on our wedding day."

"About that," Dorian anxiously gulped, assuming Alana was just kidding but didn't like the glimmer of sincere lust in her eye. He took a deep breath, hoping to reason with her. "Look, you must think this whole arrangement is as crazy as I do, right? I mean, we don't even know each other! It would never work out! I'm just not made for this kind of marriage!"

Alana looked confused, almost hurt by what he said—her heartbroken expression made Dorian uneasy, filling him with bizarre guilt. "Why not?"

Dorain gently grabbed her by the arm and pulled her over to a nearby rock formation, out of the guard's sight. "I don't know how to break this to you other than spitting it right out: I'm gay. I'm incapable of giving you a happy marriage."

"Well, I wouldn't say that." Alana smiled slightly, inching herself closer to him. She laid her small hand on his massive bicep, making him unexpectedly quiver in titillation. "They don't call marriage hard work for no reason."

"What?" Dorain was surprised by her reaction or lack thereof. It's as if his confession went right over her head. "Didn't you hear me? I'm gay. Like, really gay!"

"You think you're the first?" Alana plainly said, brushing her fin against his. "It's not like this hasn't happened before. It has, and it's worked out." Dorian was stunned, frozen in disbelief but her calm demeanor. Throwing him off further, she swam around him, eyeing him like a delicious piece of meat. "Just take my parents for example."

Dorian's eyes lit up in shock, watching her confidently swim around him, trying hard not to stare at her perfect tits. "What do you mean?!"

"A long time ago, my father was in the same position you're in right now," Alana nonchalantly answered, stopping back in front of him. She seductively bit her bottom lip, still processing how unbelievably muscular Dorian was—a true muscle god.

"You mean, King Trenton is gay?!" Dorian questioned in disbelief. He couldn't figure Alana out or why he felt so funny. The more Alana talked the more smitten he weirdly became, confusing him more.

"He is, well, was. I guess you can say it's complicated, but love will do that. "Alana answered, her eyes kept making their way to his genital slit. She swam closer to him, forcing him back against the large rock formation behind him.

Inside Dorian was a swirling mess of emotions. He felt both frightened and turned on by her, which didn't make sense. He was gay, but her obvious lust for him was making him unbelievably horny. He suddenly felt overwhelmingly enamored with her as if a switch abruptly went off in his brain. "I don't understand?"

"I'm not surprised," Alama smirked, with an all-knowing look. She moved her hand up his ripped chest, making him quiver. She then gently grazed his firm nipples, which made him gasp. He was blushing uncontrollably. "God, you're so cute when you're nervous."

"Alana, please. I can't!" Dorian's heart was racing, enthralled with her heavenly touch. How could he want her so badly?

"Do you want me to show you?" Alana seductively asked, purposefully ignoring Dorian's growing concern. She moved her hand back down his perfectly toned body, heading for the genital slit in the front of his tail.

"Show me what?" Dorian asked, trying his best to keep his voice down to not draw the guard's attention. He wanted to moan so badly but kept it from coming out, which was hard to do. A few minutes ago, the idea of being in this type of situation with a mermaid repulsed him, but the reality of it only turned him on. It felt as if his body was acting on its own, out of his mental control. Was it primal instinct? Was it pure madness?

"Do you want me to show you exactly how my mother turned my gay father into a mermaid lover?" Alana rephrased, eyeing Dorian's plump lips in lustful hunger. She put her other arm around him, feeling up his manly backside. "How?" Dorian nervously asked, afraid yet intensely curious of the answer. Alana moved her hand over his slit, sensually rubbing it. His prehensile penis was in danger of popping out. "Oh, fuck." Dorian quietly moaned, trying not to alert the guard's attention. "Why aren't I stopping her?!" He thought. "Why does her touch feel so right? Why is her voice pure music to his ears? Why do I want to fuck her like a primal sea beast? How could I suddenly be so damn horny for a mermaid?!" He couldn't help but moan in sexual agony. "I don't understand why I feel so-?"

"Horny?" Alana answered, already knowing what he was gonna say. Her tone was dripping with lust, she was just as horny as he was.

Dorian sensually moaned again, unable to resist letting his massive prehensile penis finally emerge from its slit, all 13 inches of glorious man meat. Alana licked her lips, reached out her hand, and gently grasped it. Dorian moaned again, only this time more desperate. She stroked him, unable to believe the enormous size of his throbbing member. He instinctually grabbed her waist, unexpectedly loving how manly he instantly felt. They gazed at each other like lovers, as if they would passionately kiss at any moment.

"What's happening to me?" Dorian loudly pleaded, not caring if they got caught. Actually, the thought of his gay self getting caught with a mermaid was an unexpected turn-on. He then moaned loader, letting himself give in to his lust even more.

"My family's powers," Alana finally answered, after stroking him a bit more. "The mermaids in my family have a certain way with mermen. We can bring out whatever we want from them, able to mold them like clay. And the best part, the mermen love it. It's a win-win. Everybodys happy. Even if it takes a little persuading to get there." Alana slowed her stroking and played with the tip of his tapering penis with her finger, edging his lust even further. "You can't tell me it doesn't feel good, that I don't make you feel good."

Dorian moaned again in lustful agony, reluctantly loving how her finger teased his sensitive tip. None of it made sense, but he was starting to not care. All he knew was he felt good and beginning to enjoy himself. As hard as he tried, his lust was winning. He looked her straight in the eye, his gaze burning with passion. He didn't want her to stop. Damned it be her doing or not. He wanted more.

"There must be a part of you that's always secretly wanted to be normal, to be the prince your father always wanted." Alana picked her pace back up, grasping him tighter. She could sense his temptation to fully give in and was hellbent on making sure he did. "Allow me to make that secret desire a reality. Give in to me."

"Oh, fuck!" Dorian aggressively moaned, grasping the ridges of the rocks behind him. Her touch was pure heaven, winning him over. His gay resistance was hanging on by a tread.

"I'll be the perfect wife," Alana assured him, knowing she was close to fully having him. "And will make the most beautiful babies."

"Alana… I-" Dorian could barely speak, only able to moan in utter pleasure as Alana stroked him even faster. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the guards watching them with cocky grins.

"I want to breed with you," Alana hornily begged, wrapping her tail around his. Her smutty confession surprising Dorian but turning him on more.

"I want…" Dorian bit his lip, not wanting to let the rest of his words escape. The small part of himself that was resisting cried out, not wanting to give in. However, the second after Alana ripped off the shell bra off her huge tits to reveal her juicy nipples, it was over. Any last shred of resistance evaporated. With that, he finally let the truth bubbling inside him surface out of his quivering mouth. "I want to breed with you, too!!!"

And thus they finally kissed—french kissing, indulging themselves completely in their lust for one another. Her small feminine body against his massive masculine frame was electrifying. He plunged his rugged face into her huge soft tits, sucking on them like his life depended on it. Seconds later he had his thick fingers in her tight slit, making her moan like a merslut—fueling his testosterone even more. Never in his life had he felt so masculine. He didn't give a damn if the guards were watching. In fact, he wanted them to watch. He wished everyone was here to see him finally become a real man. Dorian figured this new way of thinking was all Alana's doing, but he didn't care. It felt too good to fight. Still gay or not, it didn't matter. He was hooked and couldn't wait till the wedding night.

#gay to straight #merman

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shrenvents · 6 months ago

Text

Competition

Warnings: Smut, M!receiving, penetration (w protection), language, enemies (ish) to lovers

Pairing: Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x reader

Summary: After "Beef's" rebranding as "The Bear," business at your cafe has declined, which left you furious, and that anger only worsened after meeting the restaurant's owner.

Word count: 3.4k

...

Ever since I was young, I've always had this unnecessary, aggressive competitiveness, which has only grown since its opening; The Bear, formerly known as "Beef," has become Chicago's newest hit. Its success has been so impactful, that it's driven away numerous customers, including regulars from my spot, just across the street.

My cafe has been open for years. Its income has been steady from the get-go, and the presence of a certain sandwich shop has never deterred that. Not until said sandwich place suddenly turned into a high-end restaurant. It crossed my mind that it simply shut down due to its infamous unpopularity, but Richie was still waltzing into my cafe to order coffee, as per usual.

So, being curious enough about what had happened to "The Beef," I go visit, expecting to be greeted by the "ever-so-pleasant" owner, Michael. But instead—

"Uh, he died," Neil mutters rather awkwardly, fidgeting with his fingers. My eyes expand in complete shock.

"Oh my god, sorry, I had no idea." I grimace at my lack of sensitivity. "It's alright." He shakes his head.

Silence envelops us both before I speak again. "So, um, how come you're still here? If you don't mind me asking?" I grimace again at my poor choice of words, saying, "I swear I'm not trying to be rude." Neil tilts his head in confusion. "Whatta mean?"

"I just assumed you wouldn't be, here, since...?"

"Ah, yeah, Mike left the place to his little bro, Carmy." He waves his arms around, gesturing to the restaurant's interior. "And he did all this, sick right?"

"Yeah... Sick." I mumble with a pout, failing to hide my contempt, but my sour mood goes right over his head.

"Fak!" A man's loud, demanding voice, quiets my rearing thoughts. "Fak! What the fuck are you doing? I need you in here." The voice grows stronger as the chef it belongs to pushes through the kitchen doors. I just about hold my breath at the sight of him. In his all-white get-up, his deep blue eyes have yet to notice me, as he addresses Neil angrily. "The fucking toilet's still broken." He throws his arm up in frustration, "So would you please, get off your ass and fix it!" He commands Neil, and I jump at his dangerous tone. My brows furrow. There was no need for him to shout so rudely, not to mention that it was really bothering me, how he had yet to acknowledge my presence even once. Not only was he stealing my business, but he didn't give a rats-ass about it.

"Shit! Yeah, on it! I was just talking to—"

"Y/n." I announce my name roughly, and his eyes bounce from Neil to me instantly. Appearing startled, he hesitates to extend his palm for a handshake. "Carmy, sorry about him—" Just as he begins waving off Fak, apologizing for his behaviour, I snap.

"No, he was the perfect gentleman, as always," I protest, "I just came to check on the competition." Carmy's brows knit together, and I can feel the vein in my forehead pop out. "I own the cafe across the street," I state plainly, and he slowly nods in recognition. "It was nice to see you, have a great day," I commend with a smile, directed only to Neil. With that, I spin out the door, stomping vigorously towards my shop.

...

The next time I saw Carmy was nearly a month later, on garbage day. He happened to be taking the trash out that evening, exactly when I was. I sigh at how little he struggles to lift several trash bags. Looking away, I huff as I throw the plastic sacks into the massive tin container. After finishing, I stretch out my back, rubbing my hands together. Shortly rolling my head back, I observe the evening sky. I exhale, releasing a breath of cool air from my lips.

My skin pricks as I feel someone watching me and shift my gaze towards "The Bear." I instantly identify the sapphire eyes latched onto me. When I catch Carmy, his eyes fly in every which direction, clearly embarrassed. 'The hell? Okay dickhead, hello to you too.' I think, shaking my head as I go inside, once again, feeling the heat of his stare as I do.

An hour later, I complete the last of my chores before locking up the cafe. Removing the key from the door, I pivot towards my car. However, I stumble when a figure standing not far behind me approaches, causing me to unleash a horrid scream from the depths of my throat. Carmy's eyes widen, evidently apologetic and equally terrified. "Uh sorry! I didn't mean—"

"What the actual fuck, is your problem?" I practically hiss.

"Sorry, I was thinking about saying something before you turned around. But then I second-guessed myself and just did nothing," Carmy blabbers, "I'm really really sorry."

"Okay okay." I put up my hands in surrender to stop his rambling. It's rather disarming, after our first meeting, hearing how he sounds so... Timid. "Sorry." He mumbles once more, head hung low.

"You're good," I reassure him with a sigh, to cover up an unexpected giggle. "Um, so what're you doing, here?"

"Oh!" He jolts upright and his eyes shoot from the ground to mine. "I just wanted to uh, talk."

"You 'wanted to talk'?" I question, a brow arching in disbelief.

"Uh, yeah," Carmy replies with uncertainty.

Folding my arms, I sigh, "About?"

"Oh, um, just about, how I acted when we met," Carmy scowls at the memory. "I should've introduced myself way sooner, and not in such a—"

"Rude way," I interject, which seems to be a common occurrence between us.

"Heard." He huffs out what sounds like a laugh, "Exactly that." I then shift uncomfortably under his intense watch. "It's alright, I didn't exactly intend to be gracious myself," I utter, returning a similar, shy smile.

"No, no." His smile widens, "You were..." He and his gaze trail off, lowering to the concrete. "'Were'?" I repeat, imploring him to continue.

"Great." Carmy finishes, peering up again. His eyes appear somewhat different, and I feel an unfamiliar chill slide down my spine. "Wow." My eyebrows rise. "'Great,' that's a, really, kind of you," I splutter with a chuckle. Carmy joins in, laughing at himself.

After a beat of silence and a few stolen glances at one another, Carmy speaks up. "I know I should've said it a while ago, but I'd like to be on good terms, rather than 'competition'." My sight hones in on his active hands as they switch between fiddling with his back pockets and shaking. "I'd like that too," I murmur, scratching the back of my head. "If only you'd stop stealing my customers," I smirk.

"Oh?" He smiles playfully and tilts his head, "So that's how it's gonna be," he jests, laughing again.

"Hmmm," I hum in confirmation, slightly troubled by how flirtatious I'm being. But damn, the way he's always looking at me —it's throwing me off...

Flushed, I conclude our conversation, "I'll see you around," then walk to my car. He almost, absentmindedly, wanders alongside me. "Yeah, see you."

While I unlock my car, Carmy's already one step ahead of me, hauling the car door open. I thank him in a whisper as I bend into the front seat, brushing past him, and he tenses. He then mumbles my name with a "Goodnight," and I sit in silence, long after he leaves, breathless.

...

The next day, I feel giddy at the prospect of seeing Carmy. It's ridiculous, considering he was my neighbour, and I was bound to see him. Though I've actually had to refrain from seeking him out.

However, that afternoon, through the glass of both our eateries, we see one another, pause, smile slowly, and head back to work.

From that point on, that sort of thing became a routine. Every day that week, I saw him for at least 50 seconds. It was even better knowing he was a chef, so the likelihood of him seeing him out front was low, but still, each time he'd be there.

Come Sunday, I couldn't delay things any longer. It was a little disheartening that he hadn't come over himself or even thought to come and ask for my number.

Thus, I knew I had to be the one to make a move. So, after closing earlier than usual, I saunter across the street. Inside, Neil greets me with an ample smile. "Hey Neil," I wave. He virtually shouts my name in return. "Hey! What you in for?" He asks cheerfully.

"I was hoping for some dinner," I chuckle. My heart hammers against my ribcage, and the anticipation is killing me. While Neil leads me to a table, my eyes don't leave the kitchen's entrance.

Neil takes my order, and my ears attentively listen for those few moments, when the restaurant's crowd temporarily quiets down, and I hear his assertive voice filter through the walls.

...

As delicious as my meal is, I can't stop my anxiety from getting the best of me. It's plausible Neil didn't bother letting Carmy know that I was here. But I'm nearly vibrating with dread, waiting for him to materialize.

Eventually, it's closing time and the herd of patrons leave. I take the opportunity to call Neil over. "Hey, I was just wondering if Carmy was in? Just wanna say hello, be neighbourly and all," I beam innocently.

"Course!" He winks but doesn't move to get Carmy. So, after a long beat staring into Fak's clueless eyes (bless him), I come up with something dicey. "Could you let him know that my food's uncooked, and I'm very, very upset," I express sharply, biting back a grin.

"O-okay?" Neil stutters, confusion and distress written across his features. I suppress my laugh with my palm.

Five minutes later, I hear a loud and hostile "what" seep through the walls. My attempts to muffle my laughter are stumped when Carmy abruptly bursts through the doors. He freezes when he sees me, and I watch the doors rapidly swing behind him. I awkwardly raise my hand in hello, and I swear he gulps.

"I was joking, Carmy." Now growing nervous, I tear my eyes away from him, onto my clear plate and see him move towards me from my peripheral. "It was, pretty good actually," I remark, downplaying the truth.

As I open my mouth to fill the silence, I peek up to see Carmy sitting right in front of me, and I lose my train of thought. It's as though we're on a date, and that's the most normal thing in the world, something we've done countless times before.

"I was planning on coming to see you after work." His sheepish, yet deep timbre makes me shudder.

"Beat you to it then?" I smirk smugly.

"Didn't we say this wasn't a rivalry?" He smirks back, and my stomach forms knots. "Nothing wrong with some friendly competition," I retort, and his reply is a simple, pleasant smile.

"Well Chef, I'm sorry to hear you're closing soon," I sigh. Still smiling, he raises his brows, "Because?"

"Because the food was decent, but I'm still quite hungry." I proclaim teasingly, shrugging. He chuckles lowly, "We can't have that."

...

Now sitting on Carmy's kitchen stool while he cooks me an omelet on his stove, I inspect his backside. The muscles tense and shift as he moves expertly through the room.

"I hope this suits your refined palette," Carmy remarks with a certain ease that he didn't have before. He pushes a plate towards me, and I reel at how domestic this all feels. I lick my lips in excitement as the delicious, potent smell of the dish consumes my senses.

Taking a bite, I withhold a moan, and close my eyes so he doesn't catch them rolling to the back of my head. Swallowing, I open my lids to see Carmy's eyes studying me, expectingly awaiting a reaction. "It's alright," I state monotonously.

Eyes and mouth expanding, he smacks his hands on his chest, overlapping them over top of his heart, like he's been shot, and a laugh escapes me. "I make it better," I contest.

"I don't doubt that," he responds without a hint of condescension, and I gape at him before giggling nervously, eyeing my omelette.

"So, what would satisfy your elite tastes?" His words may be rather suggestive, but his tone is short and reserved. Glancing up at his expression, I note the way he sluggishly runs his tongue over his bottom lip. His view then trains over my features, lingering on my lips...

Not giving him a chance to refocus on anything but my mouth, I lunge at his. Capturing his lips with mine, I hear a fumble of noises leave him pitifully. The sounds morph into a mixture of bewilderment and a cavernous groan. His hesitancy is brief as one of his hands curves behind my head, into my hair, while the other gropes my waist, bunching up my shirt in a tight fist. His groaning becomes more brazen, and I devour every single one.

Our tongues fight each other, and our hips wrestle with the kitchen island that separates us. Determined to feel more of him, I pull away from his wretched kiss. He instinctively chases after me, but my hands firmly press against his chest, which seems to bring his attention to my eyes. He more or less whines to himself.

I lick my swollen lips, holding eye contact in hopes it would help him understand what I wanted.

His grasp moves from my torso, to hold my hand, tugging me towards what I assume is his bedroom. As he maneuvers around the counter, I decide that I just can't wait. So, when we pass his living room area, I drag him back, and to his surprise, shove him onto his couch.

His back hits the cushions and he releases a grunt. Immediately, I straddle his hips and he makes haste to grip my hips, pressing me further onto his crotch. I whimper nosily, and it's his turn to hum back. "You're so..."

"Great?" I quip.

"Beautiful, is what I was gonna say— should've said." His baby blues melt me to my core. The intimacy of his look and words, somehow mean so much more, than everything we've just done.

After a short break of just breathing in each other, I press my lips to his gently, pecking them. This seems to snap him out of whatever trance he's under, as a peck is clearly not enough.

His hefty grip on my hips increases and encourages me to lean closer. His mouth dictates my every move and sound, and I wriggle above him. "Carmy," I whine desperately, begging for more.

He lets go of me to strip, sitting upright to remove his white-collar shirt. I moan at the sight, before copying him, working my shirt off. When I struggle, he rips the cotton over my head, throwing it to the floor in one swift motion. His mouth quickly draws me back in, nibbling my bottom lip.

Breaking away, I whisper, "As good as you taste, this isn't enough to satisfy me, Chef." Peering up at me through hooded eyes, he looks dazed but nods nonetheless.

My breath hitches as Carmy rears me onto my back, moving us so that his larger frame hovers over my smaller one. He unbuckles his belt clumsily and glides his jeans down his stocky thighs. I chew my lip as I gawk at the impressive bulge tucked into his black briefs. When he reaches for my bra clip, he freezes. "Shit," he exclaims airily, shoving a hand into his curly locks. I flinch, stammering, "W-what?"

"Condom," he states flatly.

"You ran out?" I joke, brows lifting.

"No, I don't do this often," he discloses, ears reddening. Silence eats up the space, and allows us to register what Carmy so bluntly, admitted. Not that I minded at all.

"I have had sex before—"

"I know," I squeal, guffawing at his prompt confession. "I think I have some in my purse." I soothe, encircling his bicep with my index finger. He lets out a sigh of relief, and I giggle like a schoolgirl when he springs to his feet, racing towards my bag.

Carmy's footsteps thud against the floorboards as he races away, half-naked. I fasten my lips together to prevent an extensive grin. When he reenters the room, I lift my body weight onto my forearms for support, cruising my eyes over his body, spying the condom between his dense fingers.

When he straddles my legs, meaning to resume where he left off, an impulse consumes my thoughts. Wordlessly, I place my palms on his thighs, spreading my digits atop his sturdy legs, to push him back. Then, kneeling on the floor in front of Carmy, I smile devilishly. I feel him trembling and the whole scene feels so erotic.

Looking up, I catch his gaze, as it adorns me, in a sort of awe. "There's something I have been craving, Chef," I murmur whilst running my tongue over my teeth. Carmy shudders as my fingers weave into his waistband, tugging them down.

While he's undressing, his briefs hanging on his chaves, I admire how his eyes flutter shut, and he mumbles nonsense to himself.

His cock engulfs my sight and brushes my cheek a bit. Carmy sucks in a sharp breath, tilting his head to watch me. Despite being taken aback by his size, I begin to stoke him. He gasps and his stomach constricts immediately.

Picking up my pace after a few pumps, I kiss his tip and his thighs shake. "Christ," he mewls. I take his noisy reaction as an encouragement to surge forward, wrapping my tongue and lips over him, and driving his cock to the back of my throat. "Fuck!" Carmy shouts.

As he gets closer to the edge, his words of appraisal jumble together in fits of, "yes, like that," "faster," and some "perfect" comments, among many other things I can't comprehend anymore. I'm lost in his touch, which tangles my hair, clasping it tightly. Before Carmy finishes, he cups my face and yanks himself out of my mouth.

Eyes shut and face twisted in both euphoria and frustration, he grumbles, "Fuck, I said I didn't wanna cum yet."

I simply smack my lips together, savouring his taste. Carmy appears stunned as holds my face. I smirk wickedly and a short puff of air abandons him.

"Can I fuck you?" He asks, and his jagged voice makes his question sound like an order, and I love it. "Please," I pant and he kisses my forehead before dragging me back on the sofa, underneath him again.

Positioning himself, Carmy rips open the condom with his teeth and rolls it over himself. He sucks in a coarse breath as he pushes into my entrance, and I do the same. He moans my name and I choke on a sob as he bottoms out, in one, mind-numbing jolt. His hands tighten on my hips, pressing me into the couch as I arch upwards. We both moan nonsensically, adoring the friction and how seamlessly we fit together.

Moving synchronously, we fight for our highs, grinding into a rhythm that makes us gasp in pleasure. With my name on his lips, they seize mine, and his tongue laps every corner of my mouth, as he slowly takes control. I writhe under him and he thrusts harder, hitting all the right places. Shortly, my body grows almost limp, unable to keep up with the tide of desire above, bucking into me.

As I reach my end, he keeps going, simultaneously kissing and nipping my neck, surely leaving numerous marks, but I don't care. He just feels too good, deep inside, strong and brutal.

I cry out as core contracts, clamping down on him, and making his untamed movements stutter. I cum hard, gasping as tremors rack through me. Soon after, Carmy whimpers, craning his neck back as cums inside. With a lengthy sigh that eases into a loud moan, he holds us still. He dips his sweat-covered forehead into the crook of my neck and hums in satisfaction.

After a few minutes of catching our breath, and enjoying the weight of his body over top of mine, he heaves himself up to kiss my mouth once more.

"Go out with me, please," he urges politely as if he isn't still inside of me. I laugh lightly, then tense in surprise when my core clenches over his cock, and he winces as well.

Exhaling steadily, I breathe, "I would love to."

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storywriter007 · 1 year ago

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(Part 2) Part 1 - You're Not Her - Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader

summary: in which y/n realizes this relationship is no longer worth fighting for

warnings: cursing, character death, toxic relationship, throwing things

genre: angst

word count: 1.1k

-> heroes of olympus masterlist

✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒

y/n laughed as a smidge of vanilla ice cream was put on percy's nose.

"not funny y/n." he said, irritated, wiping it off.

"sorry, won't happen again." she said back, shocked at the mood change. "wanna go for a swim?" she asked, trying to change the topic.

"no, i want to stay dry." he said, plainly.

"do you want to do anything?" y/n laughed.

he looked at her with his sea green eyes.

"what do you think." he said.

"alright per-sassy-eus." she shrugged.

they stared the the lake in silence until a little girl came running.

"y/n! y/n!" she shouted, running towards her.

y/n wrapped her arms around the seven-year old.

"hey serena! what's up?" she asked, smiling.

"me and lily and kayla and a bunch of other girls are making friendship bracelets!" serena said excitedly. "c'mon! hi percy!"

"hey serena." he smiled. "i like your bracelet."

"i have two of them, they are matching!" she grinned. "you can have one."

she slid the blue one off her wrist and gave it to percy.

"now we're best friends!" serena said, returning to y/n and tugging on her hand.

y/n looked at percy.

"percy, i'm gonna go." she smiled, kissing him on the cheek.

"yeah, ok." he shrugged.

"love you." y/n said.

"mhm."

✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒

y/n got to the arts and crafts table and sat down next to her good friend, olivia.

"they got you too?" liv laughed.

"yeah." y/n smiled.

"y/n! why didn't percy say love you back?" serena asked.

y/n felt hurt, but she couldn't show that, not to this little girl. olivia stared at her, waiting for the response.

"he's just a little shy now-a-days." y/n chuckled.

"but he's your boyfriend!" serena's friend, lily spoke up.

"boyfriends can be shy." y/n explained, wondering whether she was lying to the kids or herself.

"but he always say i love you to annabeth!" serena's other friend, kayla added.

"i guess he's just a little more reserved after what happened with annabeth. that changes people." y/n smiled.

"he's still my hero though!" serena smiled.

"him and jason are my heroes!" lily added.

"kayla, who's your hero?" they asked.

"my hero is reyna!" she said confidently.

y/n chuckled.

✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒

y/n and olivia sat on y/n's bed in her cabin.

"what were the girls going on about today?" liv asked.

"percy, and they were right, and they had good points." y/n sighed, tired of hiding it. "we've been dating for almost a year now, and he's just so negative."

"what do you mean?" liv continued.

"i mean he always gets mad at me, he never wants to do anything with me, and it feels like i'm just someone to look at when he's bored." y/n explained. "i get it, things are different for him after annabeth died."

olivia nodded, placing her hand on y/n's for comfort.

"they'd been friends forever, they went through hell together, they'd been in love, and he couldn't save her at the battle. but it's been three years, and he confessed to me. he said, 'i know you've like me for a while and i think i do too.' i remember the day liv." y/n continued. "and things have changed for me too. piper and hazel are always casting me dirty glances, jason and leo and frank avoid me if i'm in anywhere near ten feet to them. i've been slut-shamed, compared, and bullied because i'm dating him."

y/n began to feel tears well up.

"i just want him to talk to me and hang out with me without feeling like he's being forced to do it." she finished.

"y/n, i think this is something you have to tell percy." olivia responded. "you can't keep going like this, it's going to kill you."

"i don't want to hurt him and what if he just freaks out on me? i care about him." y/n countered.

"just talk to him." olivia encouraged. "he's a good man, he'll understand."

✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒

"you're not understanding me!" y/n said, sadness filling her voice. "i-i'm not telling you to get over what happened, i'm trying to tell you that you can talk to me! i'm trying to help you percy!"

"help me! help me! you want to help me by bringing up her name?" he screamed.

gods, he was scary.

"i'm trying to tell you that it feels like you don't even like me, much less love me! it's like i'm a burden to you!" y/n shouted back. "and i understand you're hurting, but why am i a victim of your grief?"

"fine!" he said, throwing a candle across his cabin. "i'm sorry that my girlfriend, who i loved for longer than i've ever known you, is dead and that it makes me upset!"

y/n ducked, avoiding the glass shards. fear ran through her bones.

"and i'm sorry you have to go through that, but it sucks for me too! piper and hazel give me these glares, like they hate every vein in my body. leo, jason, and frank run from me like i'm a disease! and i've told you and you don't do shit to stop it, you encourage it if anything!" y/n yelled.

"they've got every fucking reason too!" he yelled, throwing a picture frame of us across the room.

"what's the reason! tell me, what's the reason!" y/n shouted.

"because you're not annabeth!" he yelled, with every bone in his body as tear welled up in his eyes. "you're not her, she would've never done whatever shit you're doing."

y/n stood still for a minute as the words replayed in her head.

you're not her, you're not her, you're not her.

tears filled y/n's eyes.

it's like percy finally understood the gravity of the situation as he looked around in shame.

"y/n, i didn't mean that-"

"no, no, percy, you did. you really did, because otherwise, you wouldn't have said it. and you wouldn't have followed every action to prove it." y/n chuckled. "i'm sorry i'm not annabeth."

percy took a couple of steps forward, but stopped instantly when y/n backed up defensively. y/n pointed to the glass shards around the room. they stood in silence.

"you're a bad man, percy. throwing shit and telling me i'll never be enough. i wish every little girl and boy could see their so-called camp hero right now. i wish they could see what a fucking monster he is." y/n said, her voice now low and quiet.

she turned around, and walked out of his cabin.

“y/n, can’t we talk about this?” he shouted out.

“oh i tried talking to you percy.” she chuckled. “but, you can always go down to annabeth’s gravestone and talk to her."

#angst #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader #hoo x reader #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth #percy jackson x reader #percy x reader #percy #annabeth #camp half blood #percy jackson x y/n #percy x y/n

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of-a-chaotic-mind · 1 year ago

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Shaken Not Stirred

Summary: Reader attends an investigation with her boyfriend Sam and best friend Colby. Unfortuantely for her, it doesn't quite go as smoothly as she'd hoped it would.

TW/CW: Reader gets scratched by a ghost and scared a few times. Sam Golbach x Reader

Requested?: No

A/N: Writing a spoopy imagine while watching spoopy Sam & Colby videos all with the lights off aside from red lights to up the spoopiness is fantastic. Surprisingly, I'm less spooped than I would be just watching Sam & Colby vids with the lights on and not multitasking lmao.

Y/N's POV

As we stepped into the abandoned, slightly decrepit haunted prison. We had spoken briefly with a friend of our guide outside before starting this tour and she had warned me, “Girl you are braver than I am.” Upon tilting my head at her, she continued, “I won’t ever step foot in that place after hearing so many stories from other ladies. Stick close to your boys.” Apparently, the entities in this place enjoy messing with and scaring ladies the most.

Colby’s voice brings me out of my thoughts, “Dude, look at this place!” I scan my eyes around the immense entry hall. The cement walls impose a sense of dread. The stuffy sour smell of the place makes my stomach roil.

I instinctively inch closer to Sam who’s at my side. I can already tell the warning wasn’t falsely founded. Just being in here makes me feel extremely uneasy and very unwelcome. Dating a paranormal investigator means I’ve visited plenty of haunted locations but this one was much worse than any other.

As our guide began the tour, I practically glued myself to Sam’s side making him look down at me. “You alright?” He questions, concern written plainly across his face.

I think for a moment before nodding, “Yeah just already feeling unwelcome.”

The guide breaks in, “Ladies typically do feel set apart from the gentlemen. As this was a male only prison, they don’t typically take kindly to female visitors.”

Sam looks even more worried now, “You can always sit this one out.”

I shake my head, “I’m alright for now but I’ll let you know if I need to step out.” Sam nods as our guide takes that as his cue to continue on. The first bit of our tour goes pretty quietly. Just as I am starting to loosen up and shake the uneasiness, I hear someone or something whisper yell very closely to my ear. Having stepped away from Sam, I race back to him and nearly leap into his arms.

“What?!” He questions, voice full of worry, “What happened?”

I look up at him and then around at our group, fear etched across my face, “Did you guys not hear that?” Everyone shakes their heads spurring me to explain, “I just heard something whisper super loud in my ear. Like, I don’t know how you guys didn’t hear it.”

Sam wraps his arms tighter around me, “Do you need a minute?”

I bury my face into his chest to take a few deep breaths before shaking my head, “No, I’m alright. Let’s keep going.” Carrying on with the tour, I keep my head on a swivel and my hand tightly clasped around Sam’s.

By the time we begin our investigations, I’ve loosened up again. Sam sets out the two flashlights after explaining for the video what they do. Colby also sets out a REM pod and shows the camera what it does. As everyone steps away from the devices, the REM pod starts going nuts. “Alright, I guess that’s a good sign that we should get started,” Sam states to the camera. The boys begin bouncing around questions and receiving responses but the REM pod just keeps screaming at us.

Finally, having had enough of the high pitch shrill, I gave up my courage and speak up, “I’m sorry to interrupt boys but whoever is beside our little red light over there could you please step away? It’s starting to hurt my ears.” The device goes silent immediately upon finishing my sentence. Sam, Colby, and I look at each other in shock before they continue on with questioning the flashlights. After only a couple questions and answers, I jump close to Sam. Something had just whispered again. I bury my face in Sam’s chest once more as he rubs my back.

“I heard that one,” Sam says more to Colby than me, “There was a whisper.”

Colby shakes his head, “I didn’t hear it but she sure did,” he says motioning to me. I back away from my shelter and motion for the boys to continue.

After a while and a couple of investigations, Sam and Colby decide it’s time to bring out the Estes Method. As Colby goes under, Sam leans over to whisper to me, “Do you want to sit this one out?” I shake my head but take his hand in mine. Sam begins asking questions and immediately receives answers. As the questions get more intense, I hold Sam’s hand even tighter trying not to show how terrified I am. I know that if Sam knows how scared I am he’ll cut it and we’ll leave.

“Is there anything specific you’d like us to know before we leave?” Sam asks. We receive, “Yeah,” from Colby just as something grabs the back of my neck. I leap from my seat and scream so loud that Colby yanks the headset and blindfold off looking around slightly panicked. Sam jumps up to collect me in his arms, checking me over as I try to calm my shaking and my eyes dart around trying to pinpoint the source of my fear.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Colby asks, standing from his chair.

Sam, whose inspection has brought him around behind me, waves Colby over out of the corner of my eye. Colby steps behind me as I feel Sam lower the back of my shirt slightly and lift my ponytail. “Holy shit,” Colby mumbles as I see a flash and hear a camera shutter.

I hide my face in my hands as Sam gently spins me around to face them. He places his hands on either side of my face, “I’m here. I’ve got you. You are safe,” he pauses taking a deep breath, “Do you want to see it?”

I nod shakily, knowing he’s referring to the picture of whatever is on my back. Colby shows me the screen of Sam’s phone. There is four long scratches from my hairline to between my shoulder blades, thankfully not drawing blood. Saying nothing I simply bury my face in Sam’s chest once again and his arms immediately wrap around me. “She’s shaking,” Colby notes.

“Yeah, we need to leave,” Sam states already moving toward the exit. Colby collects the gear before quickly catching up to us. About halfway to the car, Sam stops and lifts me into his arms. Once we reach the car, Sam opens the passenger door and gently sits me down in the seat. I clutch onto his shirt, not wanting him to pull away but he takes my hands in his, kissing them before placing them in my lap and squatting down in front of me.

Sam brushes my hair away from my face and that’s when I finally notice the same fear from my face copy and pasted onto his. His hands shake slightly as he kisses my forehead. Looking into my eyes once again, “I love you but the next time I see you so shaken just walking into a location, you’re sitting out or we’re leaving. I can’t stand the thought of something happening to you.” I nod my head and finally seeming content that I’ve calmed down he stands, “Pull your legs in, Darling.” I do as instructed before Sam closes the door and makes his way over to the driver side door as Colby slides into the backseat.

Colby leans forward and pats my head as Sam cranks the car and begins exiting the property. “You’re gonna be okay, Kid,” Colby affirms before he leans back to get comfortable for the ride home. Colby’s always been like a brother to me and no matter how well he hides it, I know he’s just as scared as Sam and I. Sam takes my hand in his as we make our way back to the hotel.

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a-kaash-me-outside · 2 years ago

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𝕚 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕒 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕠𝕣𝕪

ᴋᴜʀᴏᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴛsᴜᴋɪsʜɪᴍᴀ ~ 10k ᴡᴏʀᴅs (exactly) �� nsfw ✧ minors dni!! ✧

slight voyuerism, overstim, threesome, super sweet aftercare uwu

truthfully was not a kuroo simp before this and then i wrote this piece and now i’m literally so in love with him absolutely so soft for him so take that as u will

"I have a question for you.”

Before you've even turned over to face him, before you can even see the expression on his face, the one that looks like he's trying so hard to hide the mischief and failing miserably, you know that this question will not be a simple feat. "Kinda ominous that you started out with that and not just asking me the question," you say, flipping over on your side, propping yourself up on your elbow, "but I'll bite. What's up?"

“We’re close enough for me to ask you this question, I think,” he says, matching your position, jaw resting in the palm of his hand as his elbow sinks into the pillow beneath him.

“Considering you were literally inside of me about 15 minutes ago, it worries me that you only think we’re close enough,” you retort.

"If you would be so willing," he starts, the facade already slipping and the real intent shining through as he ignores your comment.

You cut him off, squinting at him and trying to pinpoint what emotion exactly is floating to the surface. "Seems less so now, but go on..."

"I need your help with something," he states plainly, innocently, despite the fact that you know whatever else comes out of his mouth won't be.

"You sure are dancing around this question, Kuroo," you reply.

"I have this theory, right," he pauses, giving you just enough time for your brain to start to wander, but not enough time to flesh out the details, "centered around limits and, well, someone exactly like you." The smirk on his face is in full view now, no remorse and no concealing the way that the corner of his lip pulls upward towards his narrowed eyes or the way they scan you, slowly, but not critically.

“What kind of limits?” you ask, skeptical now and just as equally intrigued.

"Ones that involve you being completely naked and having a lot of trust in me and Tsukishima," he explains, as plainly stated as he possibly could for the words that he just spoke.

There are a million things that want to come out of your mouth, but the only thing that actually does is, "I'm sorry, what?" The shock doesn’t come from the thought of you being naked in front of him. You’ve done it plenty of times before and felt completely comfortable doing so. Honestly, you always have. It’s one of the perks of the fluidity of your relationship, the casualness of it all, more than friends, definitely not partners, some weird blend of best friends and fuck buddies.

It isn’t about the trust either; you trust both of them completely. It’s the combination of the two. The only time that you hang out with Tsukishima is around Kuroo or in big group settings. There are a handful of names that could’ve come out of Kuroo’s mouth that would have made more sense than Tsukishima, someone that you’ve barely had solo interactions with, let alone shown any sort of romantic or sexual interest, no matter how attractive you thought he was or how much sexual interest was actually there.

He doesn't respond, just gives you time to soak in what he's said, so you continue, "What do you mean by 'someone exactly like me', like it has to be me or…”

This time he answers straight away, looking directly into your eyes, giving you something to focus on as your head spins around the proposal. "It has to be you, but there's no pressure, is what I mean."

The vague praise makes a heat rise into your cheeks. Has to be you. You push past it, worrying that if you linger for too long, Kuroo will definitely start to notice. "But what kind of limits? You didn't really answer my que-."

“The more you know, the more prepared you'll feel and the less accurate and genuine your reactions will be," he explains, pausing to let you get the full effect of every single one of his words. "But you can trust me and Tsukki," he continues, "We'll take care of you."

You’re silent, taking a moment to collect your thoughts. And then it clicks. "Are you asking me if I'll have a threesome with you and Tsukishima? Is that what you're asking?" you blatantly pose, trying to figure out if this is some weird, convoluted way of approaching a difficult situation.

For the first time tonight, and maybe ever, you've shocked Kuroo, his demeanor faltering until he clears his throat. "Kinda? I guess," he starts, not really looking at you, but thinking, mulling over the question in his head before shaking it and back-pedaling, "I really want to test this theory that I have and Tsukishima agreed to be my assistant and," he turns the palm that’s not supporting his head upward and takes a deep breath, "will you help me?"

"Like, by take care of me, you mean...," you trail off, knowing that he’ll fill in the blanks without you having to reach for it.

He moves closer to you, smirking at your curiosity. "I mean exactly what you're thinking." He pauses, wondering if he should take it as far as the thoughts in his head, and then he does, “just like I did tonight.”

You rush to respond, to distract yourself from the feeling that’s rising into your core, the one that’s making your heart rate quicken and palms begin to sweat. “Yes, Kuroo, I will have a threesome with you and Tsukishima. All you had to do was ask,” you tease, your voice just as strong as you need it to be.

Kuroo lets out a laugh, short and light, before wrapping his fingers around your wrist gently, extending his fingers against your palm and stroking the soft skin. His entire aura changes in an instant, the cockiness and complex fading away, leaving behind a look of sincerity and concern. “Seriously, though, if you don’t feel comf-.”

Your response is instant, almost instinctual. "I trust you," you say because it's true.

His smile reappears, more confident now as he presses a quick kiss into the side of your hand, his eyes boring into yours as he does. “Good.”

The way that you were envisioning it, you were so absolutely sure that the science aspect of it would be pushed to the side. You knew that Kuroo was a science nerd at heart, sure, but there was no way that that would take priority over the fact that no matter how you sliced it, you were about to have a threesome with two very attractive men.

Walking into Kuroo's house feels exactly like every other time you've walked into Kuroo's house, nothing ominous or altered about it. You kick off your shoes in the exact same way, you call out Kuroo's name in the exact same way, you throw your things on the side table right next to the door in the exact same way, and yet, Kuroo doesn't greet you in the exact same way.

Kuroo doesn't greet you at all.

It's Tsukishima that you see first, and who sees you first, and it's only then that you realize how different tonight has the potential of being.

Still, you raise your hand in a nonchalant greeting, murmuring some sort of pleasantry that doesn't get returned to you. He only offers a small, "Hey." You can't get a good read on him, on whatever he's feeling, and it's so much different than Kuroo.

With Kuroo, you could read every emotion that he wore, even if it was only there for half a second. You're not sure if that's the result of who Kuroo is, how long you've known him, or how well you know him. Either way, it was a luxury that you didn't have with Tsukishima, his eyes looking you up and down, but not saying another word or giving way to whatever he was thinking.

You ignore his lack of reciprocation and ask him directly, "Do you know where Kuroo's at?"

"Sorry!" Kuroo calls from the other room, not letting Tsukishima answer, though you're not certain he would've. "I was finishing setting up. You're early."

"Yeah! Well, I made the first train so I didn't have to wait for the late one," you explain, the small talk feeling so foreign. "I hope that's okay," the courtesy also feeling very foreign. The air feels equally as foreign and you almost feel like you shouldn't be there.

And then Kuroo flashes a smile at you. He takes two quick, lengthy strides towards you, pushing your hair out of your face and leaning in close enough so that only you can hear him say, "Are you nervous?"

The unfamiliarity that was brought along by the possibility of rigidity fades away as soon as you feel Kuroo next to you, instantly feeling at ease again. You pull back from him, only a few inches to play into the question. “Why would I be nervous?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. “Should I be nervous?”

"You don't have any reason to be nervous, no," Kuroo denies. He takes you by the hand and pulls you along with him. "Thanks again for agreeing to help out. Do you want to get started?"

The formality almost makes you laugh, and you're grateful for it. There is plenty about this situation that could have made you spiral, but just being around Kuroo is making you feel so much more at ease. "Absolutely," you confirm.

You follow him down the hall, your hand still in his despite the fact that you're pretty sure that you know his house layout better than your own. In fact, you're sure that if you were blindfolded, you could find your way to Kuroo's bedroom. The bedroom that you just passed.

You're about to open your mouth, to poke fun at him for missing his own bedroom or to wonder aloud why you were walking so far, but then he stops abruptly in front of a door.

"Your office?" you ask.

He nods, looking down at you and explaining, "Repurposed for testing."

His response surprises you, given the fact that up until this point you were still convinced that this was just a strangely-veiled setup for a normal threesome. The surprise doesn't have the chance to settle before more sets in.

He pushes open the door to his office, but it's not the same as it was the few times you've been in here before. The furniture is all pushed against the walls, making way for a long, steel table in the center of a perfectly white sheet on the floor. Beside it stood a matching, but significantly smaller, table holding a variety of neatly placed, and equally distanced toys. Your gaze doesn't remain on the table long, far more intrigued by the hinged lamp that was positioned next to it, pointed directly at the table, but turned off.

The scene in front of you is like nothing you expected. You outstretch your arm, fingers spanning until they make contact with the table. It's so much colder than you think it's going to be, the chill sending shivers up your arms and throughout your body.

Kuroo can see the overwhelm in your movements and reactions, so he reaches out his hand and places it on top of yours, combatting the feeling of cold that's transferring to your body so easily. "Is this okay?" he asks.

He's not talking about the hand placement, you know that. He's talking about the place that you're in, the company that's downstairs, what he's going to ask of you, to do to you, what the future holds. He curls his fingers around your own and withdrawals them from the table, fast enough for you to forget what the metal feels like against your skin, but not too fast as to startle you.

You remember back to the conversation that you had with him, how much he cared about you feeling comfortable and not pressured. You remember back to how Kuroo's been the entire time you've known him. And then he solidifies it.

"I meant what I said," he mutters into your shoulder, "We'll take care of you. You can trust us. I promise."

He places his hands on your hips, kissing up your shoulder gently and pulling you into him, your entire body weight resting on him. "Okay," you reply, letting yourself relax. "Yeah. I trust you."

You can feel the kisses against your skin turn to smiles before he turns you around to face him, the small of your back resting against the edge of the table. "Can I let Tsukishima undress you?" he asks, your body turning rigid at the unfamiliarity of the concept. "Please."

You don't reply, not fast enough at least, because Kuroo runs his hand up your body and places it under your chin, pinching it gently between his fingers. "What happened to trusting us, to letting us take care of you?" he asks, "Give up control, okay?"

“Okay,” you respond, maybe too quickly as you exhale the breath out of your lungs.

“Okay, what?” Kuroo asks, lowering himself so that he can look into your eyes more easily.

“Okay, I’ll give up control,” you explain. You wait for Kuroo’s response, but it doesn’t come. He stands there, eyebrows raised ever so slightly as he waits for you to continue. “Okay, I’ll let Tsukishima undress me.” Your cheeks feel warm as the words come out of your mouth.

Kuroo doesn’t even acknowledge you, just turns his head towards the entrance, immediately calling out of the room for Tsukishima who appears in the doorway in an instant. “We’re ready.” Tsukishima replaces Kuroo in front of you so seamlessly as Kuroo moves to the smaller table, pushing things around ever so slightly.

“Turn around,” he says, quietly. The words aren’t nearly as loud and commanding as Kuroo’s, but you still want to follow every direction he says. His slender fingers grab the hem of your shirt, pulling upwards as his fingers scrape against your stomach, his hips pressed firmly against the back of you.

Despite how much of your skin that he’s touching and the goosebumps that it’s leaving behind, it all feels so precise, so scientific. You lift your arms, allowing Tsukishima to pull it over your head. You know that if it was Kuroo, your shirt would have been in a heap on the floor 15 seconds ago, but Tsukishima is taking his time, to tease you or not to make any mistakes, you’re not exactly sure. He straightens out your shirt, folding it in half, tucking the sleeves, and then folding it in half again, before setting it down gently onto the corner of the smaller table.

His fingers are moving with so much care, each tiny movement planned and meticulous, and it’s affecting you far more than it should be. He snakes his arms around your waist, unbuttoning your pants, pulling down the zipper, navigating through touch alone. The contact brings you a comfort you didn’t expect, relaxing into Tsukishima’s arms and resting yourself against his chest. You feel him tense, lose his poise, if only for a beat. He slides your pants off, hooking his thumbs into your underwear and dragging them down in the same motion.

His hands don’t linger longer than they need to, but God, do you want them to, wish they would hover over every inch of you just light enough so that you could feel their presence. He doesn’t even need to touch you. You just want him to be there. “On the table,” he directs, breaking you out of your escalating thoughts. He folds your pants with the same amount of care, in half, matching the hems, and then in half two more times, setting them on top of your shirt.

You listen without acknowledging, climbing onto the table. “On your back,” Tsukishima specifies. You nod this time, hands bracing the table as you lower yourself slowly until your back is flat against it.

You’re not sure what shocks you more, how cold the metal is or how hard it is. There’s no forgiveness in the solid sheet you’re lying on top of. You arch ever so slightly in reaction to the sudden change. Tsukishima’s hand lies gently on your stomach, pushing, not harshly, to counter your movement, until you’re flat on the table again, embracing the uncomfortability of the material.

It’s Kuroo, now, that towers over top of you, looking down at you with a look so void of lust and filled with authority and inquiry. You feel so exposed. You’ve been naked in front of Kuroo so many times before, but this feels like an entirely new experience. “I’ll explain,” Kuroo says, distracting you, if only for a moment, from how on display you feel.

“It all started with an observation,” he kneels down right next to your face. You turn your head to face him. His eyes are still, concentrating on yours as he speaks. “Sex with you is incredible.” And now you know why he keeps his eyes trained on yours, the effect showing so strong within them.

“So I was thinking, why is that? There are some obvious reasons,” he says, smiling as he pulls a reaction out of you once again, “but more than anything else, I think it’s because of how determined you are to hold off on your first orgasm.”

You blush at this, at the fact that he notices it in the first place and the fact that he’s saying it aloud with such pride. It doesn’t make complete sense, though, in your brain, why that would equate to the sex being incredible. He answers your unspoken question.

He stands up, no longer worrying about how affected you are by what he says. “You focus so hard, so intently, on not coming for as long as you can so that your first orgasm is unsurmountable. Am I wrong? That would be really awkward if I was wrong.”

You shake your head, because, of course, he’s not wrong. You’ve always loved holding it, thought it made the pay off so much sweeter, and it definitely did. He knew it too.

“So, then, I had a theory,” he says, walking to the foot of the table, placing both of his hands on each of your ankles, pulling them apart. “that you would stay so strong in the beginning, but then, as time goes on, you would crumble away so quickly until you had absolutely no resolve left.”

Your jaw falls open so subtly, but Kuroo notices, doesn’t try to hide his smirk as he does. “All you have to do,” he starts, “is wait to come for as long as you possibly can.” He runs his hands up your calves, massaging into them, and pushing up until he gets to the insides of your thighs. “Can you do that for me?”

You nod, slowly at first, because you’re not even sure that the movements are conscious, but then you feel his thumb digging into your thigh, rubbing pressured circles into the muscle, and a verbal confirmation following a breathy whimper leaves your mouth.

“Great. Tsukishima, tell her the spiel,” Kuroo says, lifting his grip from off of your thighs so suddenly that another whimper breaks from your lips. Kuroo doesn’t even acknowledge it as he starts picking things up from the table beside you.

“We’re working on a colored system. If at any time you’re feeling like something is moving into a place where it’s too much to handle, say yellow. We’ll stop, make sure you’re okay, slow down, adjust. If at any time, it’s too much and you need to stop for good, say red. We’ll stop, help you however you need to feel okay again,” Tsukishima explains, his hand resting on your arm the entire time, the touch helping you focus on every word.

“If you can’t speak, three firm taps, squeezes, contact of any kind, whatever you can manage. Just three, repetitive motions, okay?” he asks.

“Okay. Yellow, red, three touches. I got it,” you repeat, nodding along, and then tacking on a, “Thank you, Tsukishima.”

You’re so focused on Tsukishima’s words and the grasp that he has on your arm that you only notice Kuroo lowering himself next to you when he’s already there. He’s rubbing his thumb against the pads of his two fingers, pulling them apart meticulously as a string of liquid connects them together.

He reaches his hand down, careful not to get the liquid on anything other than where he’s aiming. His fingers hover between your legs, not making any contact yet, just lingering. He speaks at the exact moment that he dips his fingers between your lips, the coolness of the lube rivaling the metal on your back when you first came into contact with it, “I’m going to let Tsukishima fuck you first, okay?”

Air draws into your lungs quickly, a small, sharp inhale both from the words and the feeling. “Okay,” you reply.

Kuroo rubs the lube between your lips. He lets his fingertips graze over your hole, teasing it, gently prodding, but not inserting them, not yet. “More lube,” he says, pulling his fingers away from your hole, but still between your lips. He rubs your clit with the length of his digits, letting the bundle of nerves slide between the creases of his fingers as you watch them intently.

Tsukishima uncaps the bottle, letting a generous stream of lube pour onto your pussy, the excess dripping between your legs and onto the table. Kuroo adds another finger, rubbing the pads of them over top of your lips, repetitively moving them up and down until he slips the middle one inside of you.

“I’m going to stretch you out first,” he tells you, as he pushes as deep as he can go, his other fingers resting against your ass. Both Kuroo and Tsukishima are watching you so closely, your body language and your facial expressions and the way you move when Kuroo adds another finger and then another until his three fingers are slowly stretching you.

He slides his fingers in and out of you, reaching down with his other hand to rub your clit. You hum at the additional contact, feeling your own wetness add to the lubrication between your legs. Kuroo’s fingers feel so good, but they’re not deep enough. “Tsukishima’s going to fuck you now,” Kuroo says, no confirmation at the end of it this time. Still, you nod.

“Move to the end of the table,” Kuroo says as he removes his fingers from you. You listen immediately, scooching to the edge, legs dangling off of the side as Tsukishima positions himself between them.

Tsukishima has his fist around his cock, stroking the length steadily, rubbing lube over the top of his head as he moves closer to you. The unfamiliarity of it all is setting in, your breath quickening as Tsukishima places one hand on your knee, spreading your legs open even further. He rubs his head between your lips, letting your wetness spread over the tip before pushing inside of you.

He grabs the undersides of both of your knees, holding your legs up and pushing them into your chest as he gets deeper inside of you. He’s not as thick as Kuroo, but he’s so long. You let your head tilt back into the hard surface, gazing up at the ceiling as you concentrate on each inch being inserted inside of you.

He’s so deep and he just keeps getting deeper, pushing into you until his hips are directly against your thighs. You can barely catch a good breath, looking up at him, seeing the bliss in his eyes before he starts moving, pulling out slowly and pushing back in even slower.

You can feel it building up in your stomach as he continues the repetitive motions, but it’s nothing you can’t manage. You look directly up at Tsukishima, staring into his eyes as he thrusts in and out of you. You want to tell him to move faster, but you know that you should pace yourself, know that Tsukishima is probably giving you exactly what you need for how early it is in the night.

“Tell me, how long do you think you can hold it when you can’t breathe? When you’re concentrating on staying conscious instead of holding your orgasm?” Kuroo questions, positioned directly next to your face, pumping his fist around his cock. “Open.”

It’s like they’ve planned it. The second that Kuroo finishes the word open, Tsukishima starts fucking into you faster, holding you in place by your hips as he thrusts so deep inside of you. He lets you feel his entire length slide in and out of your hole, not sacrificing anything for how fast he’s getting.

You can barely part your lips before Kuroo’s head is between them. He pushes his hips forward, spreading your lips with his girth and your mouth feels so full so quickly. You weren’t a stranger to Kuroo fucking your throat. You both loved it. But there was something so different about it when you could feel another cock ramming in and out of you.

He pushes into your mouth slowly, your jaw opening as wide as it needs to compensate for how thick he was. You can feel the underside of his cock slide against your tongue, the head driving into the back of your throat, gently prodding at it before withdrawing.

It’s harsher this time, the thrust inside of your mouth. You can feel the spit coming from the back of your throat and coating him as he messily fucks your mouth, your lips stretching around him. His head rams against the back wall so rough that you gag violently. You can feel Kuroo stroking the sides of your face, his hands migrating down to your throat as he massages his thumb into your airway.

He pushes his cock as deep as it can go, your nose against his hip, but he doesn’t pull back this time. He just keeps it there, blocking any air that begs to come through. He reaches down, plugging your nose so that there’s absolutely no chance of you getting any oxygen. You don’t know what to concentrate on as your head feels lighter.

Tsukishima’s thrusts into you haven’t stopped, have only gotten more ruthless as he watches Kuroo abuse your throat. He’s so deep inside of you that you feel like you can feel him in your stomach, but the longer that Kuroo holds his cock in your mouth, the less you can feel it. Your eyes are shut tightly because you can’t see straight anyways, and your head hurts, and you’re opening and closing your fists because you’re starting to not be able to feel them.

“Switch with me, Tsukishima,” Kuroo says, pulling out of your mouth right before you would have pushed him off.

He moves so quickly, Kuroo, to get between your legs, and when he’s positioned there, he doesn’t hesitate for a second. He slides inside of you, grunting at how tight you are around him. He’s not as deep as Tsukishima was, but you can feel how much he’s stretching you already. “Fuck, Kuroo, I’m so fucking full, fuck,” you groan.

He fucks your tight hole faster than your throat, harsher than your throat. He’s being relentless, knowing that he’s the one that wants to make you come for the first time. He wants to be the one to feel you tighten, to ride your high with you.

But not yet. You focus on your Tsukishima’s cock in front of you, capturing his head between your lips and then sliding them down his length, taking him inside of your mouth and then as deep down your throat as you can manage, your fist stroking anything you can’t reach. You concentrate on how he tastes, the noises that escape him. You do everything in your power to ignore what’s going on between your legs, on the mess that Kuroo’s making of you, because if you thought about it, even for a second, you’d be coming all over him.

You concentrate on how your tongue swirls around the head and how the tip fits so perfectly in the slit. You concentrate on how your body twists so that you can massage his balls with your other hand while still stroking the rest of his cock steadily, building speed as you feel his balls tighten. You let his head glide against the back of your tongue, swallowing around him, letting your throat massage the length.

It doesn’t take much more of this meticulous care that you’re giving Tsukishima’s cock or the sight of your entire body bouncing from the force of Kuroo’s thrusts for Tsukishima to come down your throat. He grabs hold of your hair, moving your face at the exact speed that he needs as he uses your mouth just like Kuroo did.

You feel his cock pulse between your lips, your mouth a tight ring around him. It coats your tongue, bitter and warm, and you know that Kuroo is probably so jealous right now. Tsukishima doesn’t stop moving his hips, pushing the cum deeper into your mouth. “Will you swallow for me?” he asks, the first thing he’s asked of you all night. How could you deny that?

You don’t remove his cock from your mouth, you swallow around his length just like you did before. He groans at the feeling of your throat tightening around his sensitive cock, but he doesn’t move. You hollow your cheeks as you pull off of him, sucking any last drop.

It all catches up with you the second that Tsukishima’s cock leaves your mouth. You barely have time to swallow the cum that’s left in your mouth before you’re struggling to control your orgasm. You were working so hard to ignore it before, but you can’t now, the feeling of him fucking into you, still stretching you apart somehow.

Kuroo rests his fingertips on your stomach, his thumb flicking your clit exactly how he knows you like it. You can see how insistent he is on pushing you to your limits and as much as you want to curse at him for testing you, you just don’t have the mind to. It feels so good. He’s making you feel so good, a string of curses and his name flowing from your mouth as you try your hardest to channel the pleasure into something else.

“I’m going to come inside of you,” Kuroo says, slamming inside of you harder now. The sentence makes you swallow harshly. You’re so close, so fucking close from the repetitive motions and how thick Kuroo is and how full you feel. He can see it on your face, loves watching you lose control like he has so many times before. It’s his favorite part. He wants to watch you unravel from him, and only him. “Tsukishima, stop touching her,” he commands, so harshly that you feel the dominance of the demand. Tsukishima removes his hand from your shoulder that was lingering there from before.

“You’re so close,” Kuroo breathes, chest heaving as his grip tightens onto your waist, holding you in place as he pounds into you. “I know you’re so close and you’ve been so fucking good for me, waiting, holding off on coming, but I’m going to break you now.” A whimper falls from your lips. You feel so conflicted. You want to just let go, but you know that you have to try harder than you ever have.

“Try to hold it for me, baby, but I’m going to break you. I’m going to come so deep inside of you, and I’m going to fucking break you,” he spits, a look of determination now on his face.

His cock is ramming in and out of you, knocking the breath out of your lungs as soon as it enters, the sound echoing around the room and back at you, definitely not helping the vulgarity of the situation or your determination. Your eyelids close tightly, trying to find some sort of grounds, anything to concentrate on instead of how crude and how good Kuroo looks over top of you.

“Open your eyes, baby, look at me. Look at me,” he coaxes, his hands moving from your hips to your chest, dragging them down your body leisurely, letting you feel the pressure and contact on every part of you. You listen to him, opening your eyes just in time to see him licking his lips. His gaze isn’t on yours, but rather, on you, scanning and staring, and somehow that’s worse.

“I’m going to come inside you,” he repeats, “so fucking deep. I’m so close.”

“I-,” you start, interrupted by the abrupt slam of his hips against you, “I can’t hold it, Kuroo,” you admit, shaking your head, eyes watering, core tightening.

“No?” he asks, and you know that he’s patronizing you, and you just can’t bring yourself to care. You shake your head harder, the tears dripping down your cheeks.

“Can’t,” you mutter. “Feels too good.”

“Fuck,” he says under his breath. He comes first, draining inside of you so deep that you’re convinced it’ll never come out. You can feel his cock twitching with every stream, can feel him still as he takes in his own orgasm, but then he starts to move again. He’s no longer focused on his own pleasure, on taking the time to savor the feeling of his cock buried deep inside you, painting your insides.

He pulls out of you almost completely and fucks back into you even harsher than before. You were completely ready to come on his cock solely from the depth and the pulsing and how full you were feeling, but he’s regaining the momentum that he lost for only a moment. In fact, it’s faster now, more brutal, intent on doing exactly as he said, breaking you, not just making you orgasm, but absolutely destroying you.

His name is the only thing on your mind, the only word that you know at this point, and you can’t stop saying it, mushed together in a string of incoherence, getting louder and louder until you’re screaming.

The orgasm takes you harder than it ever has. Your core cramps, your chest rising off of the table, folding into your knees, your forehead colliding with Kuroo’s chest, resting there for only a moment before you violently fall back into the table. Tsukishima’s there to catch you, his hand placed gently under your head as you crash into it. In any other scenario, you’d feel bad, but you’re quite positive that you couldn’t feel any ounce of bad right now, no matter what happened.

Your body is overcome by pleasure, spreading out your entire being, electrifying everything inside of you and out. Your skin feels like it’s on fire and your hands are closed into fists so tight that you can feel the marks your nails are leaving. Your legs are shaking so violently that even Kuroo’s strong hold can’t stop them. And at some point, your screams for Kuroo turn into high-pitched nonsense and then into silent sobbing.

You know that you had to have been breathing, it lasted far too long for you to go without air, but when you regain control, when your body starts to calm down, and the feelings all subside, you can’t see straight, can’t breathe right. Your mouth is open, gasping for air and expelling it just as quickly and severely. You don’t know what you look like right now and you’re not sure you want to know.

You close your eyes, your entire body sensitive to even the tiniest breeze, and even more sensitive to the fingers in your hair, stroking and petting as you regain composure, and the dull nails scraping against the insides of your thighs, but not far enough to make you convulse again.

You move to sit up. Your core is on fire, but you need to feel some sort of control. You don’t get very far. Kuroo’s hand immediately braces your shoulder, “I’m not done.”

Your mind still feels foggy. You’re barely able to understand exactly what he means. He moves you back to the center of the table, gently, slowly, but the touch still makes your skin feel hot. “That was only the first part, remember?” he asks, spreading your legs apart so slightly, your thighs still touching. “The rest of the theory was about you crumbling away so quickly until you had absolutely no resolve left. That’s the more fun part.”

Even with the pleasure still taking over your brain, you understand. You hear each word and only now do you feel the implications of them for real. Your body already feels exhausted, spent, so tired, and he wants to put you through even more.

He walks over the table, using tissues to clean himself up before putting his pants back on, letting you recover for a little bit longer. He grasps one of the toys in his hand, the wand, and you’re already feeling your resolve slip away.

He spreads your lips apart. “Can I trust you not to move or should I strap it in place?” he asks before pushing the head directly into your clit, a gasp escaping you as your back rises off of the table. It’s not on, but the pressure of something against your sensitive clit makes you flinch.

“Understood,” he replies to your reaction. “Tsukishima, the belt,” he motions his head towards the table behind him. Tsukishima moves quickly, grabbing the leather strap from the table and snaking it under your thighs. Kuroo moves the wand carefully, lying it in between your closed thighs, your lips wrapped around the head which is pushed into your clit, covering the entirety of it. “Tighten it,” Kuroo commands.

You’ve never seen Tsukishima listen so well without a fight to anyone, especially Kuroo, but there was something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place, an emotion floating between eagerness and inquisition. Your stare is trained on his fingers as they position the belt over the top of the handle and tighten the strap so that neither your thighs nor the wand can move at all.

“Are you ready to test my theory?” Kuroo asks, standing next to your head, stroking your hair gently as he waits for your reply, a low, confident, hum. “Great. Turn it on, Tsukishima, slow.”

The wand presses into your clit harder as Tsukishima pushes the dial forward. You feel the click first, the signifier that it’s on, and then you feel the vibration. It’s low and weak, but enough to make you jolt at the feeling. If it wasn’t strapped to your thighs, the wand would already be out of place.

“How does that feel? Can you hold it?” Kuroo asks, his hands moving from your hair, grasping onto your shoulders. You hum again, but it’s not in affirmation or denial this time. It’s just a sound, a reply without intent, because honestly, you’re not sure. The vibration is weak against your clit and yet as the seconds tick by, despite the fact that Tsukishima hasn’t touched it at all, it feels like it’s getting stronger, like it’s affecting you more.

Kuroo’s hands move, sliding down your neck and over your collarbones as he rubs them over your chest. His thumbs brush over your nipples, purposefully. The pleasure from your chest spreads throughout you, overlapping the pleasure of the vibrations and you feel almost pathetic from how close you already are.

Kuroo rubs your nipples between his fingers, harshly, rolling them in between the pads repetitively. You arch your back as much as you can, pushing your chest into Kuroo’s grasp, showing him how desperate you’re feeling without saying anything. He listens to your physical beg, uses his whole hand to massage your chest, thumbs still skimming over your hard nipples as his fingers dig into your skin.

The vibrations don’t get stronger, but the pressure does. Tsukishima pushes the head of the wand into your clit harder and it’s getting almost impossible to stay still or to stay quiet. “Kuroo, I- I’m close,” you mumble through half-closed lips.

“Already? That’s great,” he says, stopping just short of a laugh. He continues, “I’m not going to turn it up. I’m just going to let you come from the lowest setting.”

The orgasm reaches you so much softer this time. The build-up is so slow, so gradual, and so are the effects that it has on you. You can feel yourself flood. You roll your hips into the vibrations as much as you can. It’s not breath-taking or life-changing like the one you had witnessed just minutes ago, but your body feels warm.

It only takes you a few beats to catch your breath again, but the wand is still on, moving against your sensitive clit, and Tsukishima reaches down and rolls the dial. The vibrations intensify and the embarrassment of how little it took you to come last time is nothing in comparison to now.

It takes so little for your chest to rise and fall dramatically, the airflow matching the quickening of your pulse and the closeness of another orgasm. “More,” Kuroo says, but it’s not to you. He’s looking directly at Tsukishima. He watches how far he pushes the dial, how much stronger the vibrations come. “Good.”

“I’m- I’m-,” you stutter, not able to say anything else as your eyes close quickly. The orgasm hitting you again, faster and more abrupt this time.

“Fuck,” you whine. You don’t have to tell him. He knows. He can see the way he’s wrecking you with each continuous orgasm. He strokes your jaw, pushes the hair out of your face, wipes the sweat off of your forehead.

“I know, baby, I know. It’s okay,” he coos.

It pushes you over the edge, the extra touch and his words. It’s more intense this time, the feeling that washes over you. It’s not as extreme as your first one, but it’s getting there. You lift your knees off of the table, the wand pressing harder between your legs as you rock against it.

“Look at you,” Kuroo gushes, watching in awe, “Even strapped together, you’re still squirming to make yourself come.” He shakes his head, standing up straight. “Well then, do it. Make yourself come again,” he orders.

You don’t move at first, not exactly sure if he’s serious or just taunting you, but then you see the look of expectancy in his eyes. You slowly bring your knees into your chest again, circling your hips so that the head moves against your clit in a repetitive path. It doesn’t take long for that, coupled with the continuous, almost abusive vibrations to bring you there.

“That’s it. Make yourself come. Move your hips just like that,” he mutters, staring down at your every move. He acts like it’s completely up to you, as if the wand between your legs wasn’t put there by his hands, as if the way you’re moving and grinding isn’t specifically for his eyes, because of his words. “Come for me, again.”

And you listen, not intentionally, just because your body wants to do whatever he wants it to do. You hug your legs, arch your back, driving the wand as harshly against your clit as it can be. You rest your forehead against your knees, moaning into the small space you’ve created, muffled by your own skin and limbs.

As soon as it’s finished, you slowly relax, letting your legs uncurl, the backs of them lying flat against the table once again. You brace yourself on your elbows first before lowering your back as well until you’ve returned to your original position. The vibrations aren’t stopping. You don’t even have time to catch your breath.

Kuroo moves to your side, standing directly across from Tsukishima, and places both of his hands on your legs, holding them down, thighs pushed roughly against the table so that you can’t move at all. You can’t spread your legs or lift them. Any amount of small control you had seconds ago is now completely gone. The only thing you can do is lie there and submit.

It’s Kuroo, this time, that pushes the dial, stretching his finger while keeping his hold on you in place. He lets his finger rest against the wand, feeling the muted vibrations that are coming from the handle. For some reason, knowing that Kuroo’s the one in control again, that he’s the one towering over you and watching you convulse under his touch, brings you closer than the vibrations do.

“Kuroo,” you whimper, his name falling off of your tongue so easily considering that it’s the only thing on your mind. You don’t know whether to beg for more or to concede, welcoming defeat. “Kuroo,” you repeat, begging, but still not sure for what.

“What, baby? Do you want it higher?” he asks, finger moving to the dial again, but not pushing it until he sees your reaction.

You’re nodding, on instinct, with pure need, or just to make him proud, you’re not sure. He smiles at you, “Good girl.” And now you’re sure.

He pushes the dial until the vibrations are so strong that it almost hurts, and yet, the dial doesn’t click again or hit a barrier. Your stomach is in knots just from the contact of the head against you. You regret asking him to turn it up. It barely feels good anymore, the constant, intense buzzing between your legs, but the stimulation is still pushing you towards an orgasm that you’re not sure you can handle anymore.

When you come, the good is good. It might have even felt better than the first time. Though, it doesn’t matter much, because it lasts for mere seconds. Settling in behind it is just the most intense feeling you’ve ever experienced. It doesn’t hurt, necessarily, but it definitely didn’t feel good. It almost felt like your entire body was cramping. You wanted to convulse with the motions, feel each wave as it barrelled through you, but you couldn’t move, held down by strong hands. And when it finally fled, the only thing you could feel was how sensitive you were.

But the vibration didn’t stop. No one moved to turn it off, not even with your whining and whimpering, so you opened your mouth, letting your pleas fall out. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I’m so sensitive, Kuroo. I can’t,” you ramble, shaking your head against the table.

“You can, you can. You know the system, right? You know what you have to say for me to stop, right?” Kuroo asks.

You nod, eyes shut tightly. You didn’t need him to stop. You could handle it, but the words still pour from you. “I know. I know, but I can’t, I can’t.”

“Tell me. Tell me you know what you have to say, okay?” he tries again. You can’t see the look in his eyes or the concern on his face, barely pick up on the tone of his voice and how serious it sounds. He knows that this is the first time you’ve done something like this and wants to make sure you’re safe.

“Yes, fuck, I know what I have to say, yes. I know. I don’t need you to stop,” you say and then correct yourself, “I don’t want you to stop. I just, I’m so sensitive. I can feel everything so much and I’m so sensitive, Kuroo,” you babble.

“I know, I know. You’re doing so good,” Kuroo says to you, and then he talks over top of you, directed at Tsukishima, “Turn it up.” The confirmation gives him what he needs to push you even further.

You’re so focused on the imminent, unbearable sensation, that you don’t even see Kuroo turn on the light. You feel it before anything else, the warmth that the light creates and how quickly it becomes excruciating. Sweat drips down your forehead, glides past your temples, forms on your stomach, and under your thighs, letting you slide against the table. It just makes everything so much more intense.

And then you feel the click of the dial, the signifier that it’s up as high as it goes, and you’re cursing so many things that have played a hand in this. You’re cursing the company that made the wand and Kuroo for being so sadistic and Tsukishima for helping him and yourself for agreeing to this. You’re trying to move your mind anywhere other than how hard the wand is vibrating against you.

You know that you’re talking, you think that you’re talking. Your mouth is open and it feels like words are coming out, but you don’t know what you’re saying and you can’t hear them. Tears are streaming down your face, steadily, not overwhelmingly. Someone’s, you’re not sure whose, and it doesn’t really matter at this point, touches you, moves to stroke your arm. You can hear yourself now as you bark, “Don’t touch me,” regaining enough control of yourself and your voice to add a softer, “please” onto the end.

You lay there on the table, your body feeling excessively hot in every facet, with a buzzing between your legs that if it was any lower wouldn’t even be affecting you right now because you feel so numb. Everything is heightened. You can feel everything. The light, the air, the warmth, the breath on either side of you, the way that the breath is cool against your skin, the way that the breath is moving, slowly, blowing onto your shoulder and neck and stomach. The contrast of the stimuli makes you feel some sort of balance, some sort of ground.

Your orgasm takes you by surprise. You could feel everything at once, but you couldn’t feel the sensation approaching. You’re positive that you’re screaming because there’s no way you can’t be. Your throat feels sore and the tears haven’t stopped and you reach your arm out, grabbing onto whatever you find first, squeezing into it so hard, your fingernails digging, digging, digging until your hand is shaking so hard that you can’t manage to control it anymore.

It’s so much. It’s so much. It’s almost too much. The second that you’re off of this short high, you know that the sobbing will come. You can feel the tears and the tightness in your throat. You can see yellow flashing in your head. You’re not at your limit. You’re not hurt, but if they don’t slow down, you’re going to be very quickly. The word is traveling up your throat, graces your tongue, but doesn’t get the chance to leave your lips.

The vibration stops.

“You’re done” is the first thing that you hear when you regain awareness. Kuroo repeats it again, “You’re done, baby, you’re done. Can I touch you? Is that okay?”

You nod because, despite the fact that you’re trembling, that every inch of your skin feels like it’s on fire, that’s really all you want right now. The flinch still comes when he touches you, rests his hand on your cheek, so he hesitates. If you had more energy, you’d lift your own and put it on top of his.

“You did so well. You did so well,” he repeats, leaning in closer to you and rubbing his thumb against your cheekbone. “God, you did so good.” You can’t respond, but you hope that he knows how much that means to you.

He lets you lay there, not moving you or rushing you, but just letting you recuperate as long as you need to. The second that you’re able, you talk, “Tsukishima, can you unstrap my thighs?” It’s more of a mumble than a strong sentence, but he gets the point, working just as slow and methodical as before, perhaps more so now. You can barely feel him when he brushes against your skin, numb now from the consistent vibrations.

Without the constraint on your thighs and the object between your legs, you automatically feel like you can breathe easier now. “And the light,” you mumble. It’s not a question, but it doesn’t need to be. The light is turned off in a second, the heat fading quickly without the intensive brightness. You hum, now, content with the environment you’re in and the company you’re with.

“I know you probably want to fall asleep right here, but we should get you into bed,” Kuroo mentions, his hand still in the same place against your skin.

“Kuroo, I don’t think I could move right now if I tried. My legs are completely numb,” you say, “Literally if the house caught on fire, I would die here. There’s no way I could even stand right now.”

He lets out a breathy laugh. “You most certainly would not. I would save you.”

Your eyes are closed softly, but you still roll them, and you hope he notices. “My hero.”

“Come on, I’ll carry you. You can’t recover correctly from all of that if you’re in this room on this table, okay?” he asks.

There aren’t many things you would deny Kuroo of right now, with his voice as sweet as it is and his touch as soft as it is, and carrying you into his room to be more comfortable is definitely not one of them. Your eyelids flutter open and you’re finally able to see Kuroo looking down at you and Tsukishima watching the two of you.

“Okay,” you agree.

“Can you put your arms around my neck?” he asks, leaning down and snaking his arms under your knees and your back.

“Fire, Kuroo, remember, fire,” you reiterate, “No, I could not crawl myself out of this building.”

“You won’t have to bear any weight. It’s just for support.”

You oblige, using all of your energy to lift your arms and lock them around his neck. They hang lazily and you know that if he so much as moves you in the wrong way, they will fall heavily by your sides. His steps are careful, making sure that they’re not too fast or too harsh and you’re so grateful for it.

Tsukishima pushes open the door to his room and Kuroo carefully steps inside, careful not to bump you into the doorway. He lays you down in the center of his bed so softly that you can barely differentiate being in the air and surrounded by mattress. “There’s water on the bedside table that you definitely need to drink,” Kuroo mentions. “And do you want the TV on or the fan?”

“No, I’m okay. This is nice, I think. I do want a t-shirt, though,” you say, not wanting to be this exposed anymore.

“Yours or mine?” he asks, already halfway to his dresser.

“Yours,” you call out, “something really baggy.”

He grabs a shirt from his drawer, walking back over, and handing it to you. You accept it graciously, putting it on over your head slowly, the clean fabric against your skin one of the only sensations that feel acceptable at the moment. “Thank you.”

“Well, you should get some rest, okay?” he says, leaning over and kissing your forehead. “Hydrate first, though. I’ll be in the living room if you need anything at all.”

You nod, finally relaxing. The bed is so comfortable compared to the harshness of the metal that you were lying on before. It melds against your body so perfectly, conforms to every curve, but you can’t even think about falling asleep. Your mind is still racing, wandering, active, despite the exhaustion you’re feeling so heavily.

“Wait,” you say with the last ounce of strength you have. Both of them stop in place, Tsukishima already halfway out the door. They’re looking at you expectantly, waiting for whatever you have to say or request, but you can’t get it out. It feels weird, almost, that after everything that just happened you would feel uncomfortable saying anything at all to them.

“Do you need something?” Kuroo asks, already moving back towards you.

“I-,” you start, face feeling hot at such a silly request, “I don’t really want to be alone right now.” You’re not sure if you’re imagining it or if Kuroo really does ease when you say it.

“You want us to lay with you?” Kuroo asks, closing the gap, already by your side again.

“I don’t have to if you guys want to be alone,” Tsukishima says, his voice so small it almost goes unnoticed.

You shake your head, “I’d like if you’d stay.”

You’re positive that Tsukishima doesn’t mean to show the look of shock on his face, but he does. You feel the bed sink on one side as Tsukishima walks back into the room and by your side. You flip over towards Kuroo who holds the glass of water out in front of him. “Water first,” he says. You listen, taking it in your hands as well as you can for how spent your muscles still are. The bed behind you shifts, a hesitant hand rubbing the small of your back.

It takes a few moments for you all to get comfortable, to get into positions that fit, to meld together as perfectly as you do, but when you do, you never want to move again. Tsukishima’s pressed up against your back, his hand gently on your hip. Your head is pressed against Kuroo’s chest, listening to his heartbeat and timing your breathing with it.

The room is quiet and your mind is still racing, but with the company in the room, you feel so content. “Thanks for taking care of me,” you say to both of them.

“I said we would, didn’t I?” Kuroo responds, leaning down to kiss the top of your head.

“I mean, that’s not exactly what I thought you meant,” you murmured.

Tsukishima doesn’t reply, just rubs the bit of skin he has contact with. That’s enough for you. The three of you lie there in silence, syncing your breathing, only ever disturbing the peace with rustling of the sheets and clothes until Kuroo speaks again.

“You know, the scientific theory is based on the fact that your hypothesis is retestable and comparing the results to make sure that they’re in accordance with each other,” Kuroo says into the darkness.

“Tsukki, please hit him for me,” you say, knowing full well that if you weren’t the most exhausted you’ve ever been, you would have done it much more justice.

Tsukishima reaches over you and hits Kuroo’s shoulder so hard that you can feel the effects of it in his chest. You can’t help but laugh, and Kuroo does too, so lightly, and yet, you can feel it against your ear. You feel the safest you’ve ever felt in this moment alone.

“Give me a week,” you mutter.

Kuroo responds far too quickly and eagerly, “Yeah, I mean, of course, whatever you need.”

Part of you thinks that come a week, you’ll regret the words that just came out of your mouth. Another part of you realizes the exact place you’re in, the way Tsukishima is still softly rubbing your hip, and the way Kuroo’s laughter is still taking over your mind. That part of you feels the fabric of their clothing and your own and the sheets beneath you. That part of you knows that even when you were as pushed as you were, you felt safe. That part of you knows that they know you better than you know yourself.

That part of you knows that you could never pass up an opportunity to give up control, to listen to these men and trust them completely. You could never regret that.

#hq smut #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima smut #kuroo smut #kuroo x reader #haikyuu smut #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x tsukishima x reader #toriwritesshit

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cherry-romper · 6 months ago

Text

K. Takami - Midnight Visit

Warnings; MDNI, themes of blood and implications of sex

Contains; GN!reader

Totally wasn't inspired by spiderman

Three muffled knocks came from your window, pulling you out of the traced state you'd been in typing up a report. Keigo often visited you when he had the time, but recently he'd taken a liking coming directly to your window. To Hawks, it didn't matter that you lived 20 stories up, and it was quicker to fly than take the elevator.

Your back to him, you gestured to him to come in, finishing off the sentence you'd been typing up. "It wouldn't hurt you to use the front door, you know?" You jested as he crawled off the fire escape and into your room. He chuckled dryly at your comment, clumsily knocking over a few picture frames off your windowsill. Rolling your eyes at the clatter of your belongings, you swivelled on your chair to look at him, a candied smile on your face.

Your eyes widening at the sight of him splattered in blood, his back leaning on the wall for support. His feathers were few and far between and the ones that were left had wrinkled and shrunken. His visor and jacket were nowhere to be seen and his shirt had been ripped in multiple places, revealing many similar cuts and bruises forming along his right side. His arm crossed his waist, holding a deep gash that ran red.

"Keigo! What the hell happened?" you shot up from your chair, in shock at his injuries. Before you could reach him, he collapsed into your armchair, "You should see the other guy," he breathed, half-joking.

Without thinking, you ran to grab your first aid kit from the bathroom. "Why the hell didn't you go to the hospital, you idiot?" Racing back to his side, perching yourself on edge of the footrest, you examine the extent of his injuries.

"You were closer," he said plainly, his voice was croaky and dry. He kept trying to hold his head up to look at you but would wince at the pain and let it fall back down.

Grabbing the necessary items out of your kit, you tugged at his shirt. "Take this off," you demanded, desperate to work as quickly as possible. Complying, he leaned forward, lifting his shirt the best he could in his state, with you helping it off the rest of the way. "Undressing me already?" He chuckled again, coughing at the dryness in his throat.

Letting his comment slide, you stared at his chest, shocked at how many cuts he had.

Dampening a cloth with medical disinfectant, you brought it next the biggest slash, "This might hurt a little."

The initial touch of steriliser caused him to twitch and wince, his body instinctively moving away from the pain. Whines and gargled complaints leave him as he grabs hold of your wrist, "go easy on me, babe. I can't think straight."

"I'm sorry," you give him a sympathetic nod, "don't talk for a moment, okay? And try not to move, just focus on breathing."

He lets his head fall on the back of the chair, sucking in a deep breath through gritted teeth. You worked as gently as possible, wiping away any trace of blood and dirt from his body. Luckly, none of his wounds were so deep they needed stiches; it was simply the sheer amount he had that caused him to bleed so bad. You pull out a gauze and some bandages from your kit, "I'm gonna need you to lean forward for me so I can wrap this around you, okay?" He nodded and shifted his weight forward, leaning his shoulder on yours for support as you finished bandaging him up.

Satisfied with your work, you grabbed his shoulders to push him back down so he could rest but he wouldn't budge. Picking his head up, he held your gaze as he moved in closer; his forehead leaning against your own. His breaths were shallow and quick, his eyes darted from your eyes to your lips. Locked into his gaze you tried to move away, scared that you'd hurt him, but a stray hand caught your waist, bringing you back to him, positioning you sweetly in his lap.

"Keigo," you breathed, your hands resting gently on his chest keeping him from getting too close, "you need to rest." He didn't reply and only continued his advances, his face merely inches from yours.

You stared him down, allowing your foreheads to clash once more, a teasing smile spreading across your face. Not breaking the eye contact, Keigo's lips grazed yours, his head tilting to the side, anticipating your touch.

"Easy, bird-boy," you pushed his chin away gently, still keeping the close proximity.

"What?" He asked clueless, still desperately trying to taste your lips. Amused at his actions, you played along. Letting him get close, then turning away from him a few times. "Keigo," you giggled, "you know what this is, right?"

He stopped with his head leaning on yours, the hand on your waist gripping you a little tighter, curious to your statement, "What? What is it, baby?"

"Your body is having a reaction to the adrenaline," you explained, once again attempting to put distance between you.

"Oh yeah?" His voice rang low, a husk to how he normally sounds. His free hand found your cheek, cupping it and pulling you closer again, not letting you escape, "Maybe you just get my blood pumping."

Caving under the weight of tension, you allowed his lips to envelope your own. Your arms wrapping around his neck, kissing him like you wanted to be kissed, deeply, with a passion only he could satiate.

Soft and sweet moans escaped you both as you shifted to deepen the kiss. Heat rose in your cheeks as you felt him press even closer to you, his hand gripping desperately at your waist. The kiss naturally developed into a chorus of breathy moans and a carnal hunger.

His lips mashed with your own, his hands grabbing at you as if it were the last time he'd hold you. You kissed back fiercely, your mouth parting as his tongue pleaded for entry to the moist space within. Your tongues competed for domination, dancing around each other in a vicious routine.

You worked you mouth against his, the bristles of his stubble scratching your face as you maneuvered your lips together. Your hands snaked their way into his hair, gripping the back of his head, pushing his face deeper into your own.

"Come fly with me," he lets out between kisses, his head switching sides. His arms now holding your back, pressing you both chest to chest, locking you in place. His ailments seemingly cured.

"What?" you replied, not breaking this kiss. Shifting yourself on his lap, brushing your heat against him. He let out a surprised moan at the contact, "play nice. I'm still an injured man, you know."

Giggling, you rolled your hips again, teasing him. In response, he tangled his fingers through your hair, gripping the back of your head, looking you up and down, "the things you do to me."

#hawks #hawks x reader #keigo takami #mha #mha x reader #keigo x reader #mha keigo takami #mha keigo x reader #my hero academia #my hero x reader

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wintersxldiers · 11 months ago

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Got bored so why not post another fic?

word count: 682 (quick, short one)

summary: Bucky and you get into a fight and he tried to make it better

Warnings: none just fluff (lmk if i missed any <33)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your flat had always been unnecessary cold, but today it was something else. A shiver went through your body. You went to the bedroom to change into something warmer. Well technically you shouldn't say your room, because you shared it with your boyfriend and his clothes for that matter.

Suddenly one of Bucky’s sweatshirts caught your eye. You grabbed it and put it on, already feeling yourself getting warmed up. "Perfect." you whispered to yourself. It would certainly do the job. You threw it on then crashed on the sofa to watch your favourite show with a bowl of snacks.

Suddenly the door slammed shut, "Doll, I'm home." Bucky caught eyes with you as soon as he had closed the door. "Baby" he called out, happy to see you after a long day at work, his feelings were easily reciprocated. He put his coat and bag away before jumping onto the sofa with you to give you a hug. His arms were wrapped around you as were yours and his head lay on your stomach.

"I missed you baby." Bucky mumbled, against your stomach. "I know baby, me too." you replied, stroking his hair softly as he clung to you. He suddenly sits up and pulls you by the waist closer to him. You sit there with your fingers intertwined and your head resting on his chest and Bucky mumbles "You’re wearing my sweatshirt.” before kissing your forehead.

“It’s warm and smells like you.” You say, leaning against his hard chest. "I got somethin' for you" he said, excited as he jumped up to retrieve it from his bag. He pulled out a jumbo pack of your favourite sweets. "Aww Bucky, thank you." you said before pulling him into a bear hug.

"I'm sorry about yesterday, Bubs," he said softly. You sat back and remembered yesterday's events.

"Please Bucky I just want your attention for 2 minutes" you begged him. This past week he had been so overwhelmed and engrossed in work that he hadn't had time to cuddle you anymore. You hadn't gotten kisses and cuddles and you were sick of it. "I know doll but as soon as I'm done I can give you everything yeah?" Bucky said hopeful that you would understand.

"I jus' want you, Bucky please." you said, staring straight into his eyes.

"Doll I know you want me because of your hormones because you're on your period but stop being clingy and let me work!" He shouted and you stood there in shock before running out of the room, slamming the door behind you.

All day he had tried to get you to talk to him or touch you but you weren't having it. Everytime he tried you would shove his hand off or plainly ignore him. You were mad and would stay mad.

The night was the worst, you couldn't sleep. Not without his strong arms wrapped around you, you had both become so accustomed to being in each other's embrace that you forgot how bad it was without it. You must have slept about 2 hours that whole night.

Before Bucky left for work the following day, you had given him a quick peck on the cheek then ran away.

Which had led you both to the present moment. "It's ok Buck, to be completely honest I should be the one to say sorry." you said looking down at the floor.

"No bubs, you did nothing wrong, I shouldn't have had a go at you like that, stupid of me" he said, staring deep into your eyes. "I love you Buck" You whispered.

“I love you too Doll” Bucky replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Wanna watch a movie with me?” He offered, already knowing your answer.

“Uh yes please, but it has to be a sappy romance and you can’t fall asleep” You warned, pointing a finger at him.

He chuckles at you and your behaviour “I won't, promise” He reassured you. You cuddled up closer to him so you were laying on his chest, in his arms and wearing his sweatshirt.

@lafleshlumpeater

#bucky barnes #marvel #mcu #sebastian stan #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #bucky x you #the winter soldier #falcon and the winter soldier #bucky

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scarthefangirl · 1 year ago

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A fix ~ Admit it Pt 2

Hobie Brown x fem!reader

Description: You and Hobie can't be together, its not canon. But he is determined to find a way. Part 1

Warnings: Language, Hobie breaking into your house lmao

Story type: Series

A/N: Sorry this is so short, comment or request if I should do a part three!! I know its not that good I'm sorry

Part 1 |

Masterlist | REQUESTS OPEN

I feel so small as Miguel stands here in his office, telling me off. I wish I could shrink away and disappear. I already know what a screw up I am.

"How am I supposed to fix this Y/N?" He screams and I let my warm tears stream down my face as I hiccup the tears away.

"I'm sorry." I whisper, unable to say anything else. He just stares at me with so much rage it makes me cry harder.

"I tried to help you! I tried to tell you. Now what am I to do?" He shouts but instead of yelling back, telling him I already know, or storming out I just run into his arms and cry into him. He is taken aback and doesn't reciprocate the hug.

"Y/N-" he starts but I just hug tigher. He sighs and loosely puts his arms around me, patting my head gently. Although he's very tense, I appreciate the pity hug.

"It's all my fault." I hiccup and pull away from him. I can't look him in the eyes, so I stare at the floor in shame.

"Listen, I like you kid. That's why instead of kicking you out I warned you again and again. But you messed up, I can't save you now." He says sharply and I try to suck in my sobs.

"There has to be something we can do." I tell him while breathing rapidly to keep in the sobs. "One kiss can't make my universe collapse." I try to convince him, but really myself. I love Hobie, but I didn't mean to end my life. My shoulders slump as I remember the kiss. It was so amazing, and I kick myself for getting butterflies just thinking about it.

"It can." He growls. I feel myself slump even further, sniffling.

"Please, I just want to date a boy and have my universe. Can't I have both?"

"No." He snaps. "I'm sorry but I'm going to have to ask for your watch Y/N."

"Please, don't! I promise I'll end everything with him. I won't do anything to jeopardize the arachno-humanoid poly multiverse," I say the name slowly, having a hard time recalling his name for it. Then I just plainly add, "Please,"

"Don't make this harder kid, hand me the watch and I'll walk you to the device that'll send you home. I have to figure out how to clean up your mess so you are now under an extended break.."

"Please Miguel, I need this job. This is like, all I have," I cry.

"You should've thought of that. Now hand it over, you are relinquished from your duties here."

I just stare at him for a bit. I can't do it. I can't give this up, it's my life. Saving people is what i do, and with this job I could save even more.

But, despite myself, hand over the device on my wrist and he sends me home.

I didn't even get to say goodbye to anyone.

I sit up in shock and jerk to the corner of my bed, having been suddenly woken up by someone shaking me. I pant, trying to catch my breath as I slowly register who is lurking around in my room in the dead of night.

Hobie Brown.

"What are you doing?!" I exclaim, still breathing heavily. My racing heart isn't just from surprise anymore, but also from his presence that I've been lacking for the last few days. Avoiding him was easier when I still saw him and worked with him.

"You haven't been at work for four days," He says blankly. He is looking right into my eyes and I look back, but I don't know how to explain. A cool breeze blows through the window that is open from Hobie's entry way. He's been to my apartment before, so I suppose he knows his way around.

"Wow, how observant," I roll my eyes but immediately feel a pang of guilt in my chest for the attitude. It is meant to be sarcastic but it just makes me sound bitchy. He glares at me and I feel myself melting under his stare. "What are you doing here? In my room, in the night time, scaring me half to death?" I ask. He shouldn't be here. We can't do this anymore, and really we never should have.

"You owe me an explanation." He replies plainly. I stare at him for a moment, eyes widened, before looking down at my lap and nervously play with my blanket.

"I know," I grimace. I scoot to the side of my bed and sit up completely then cross my legs so I'm sitting criss cross. He sits down next to me with his feet to the floor, staring at me. I feel my heart beating rapidly and a sinking feeling of guilt in my chest down to my stomach.

"I'm listening," He chuckles but something about it makes the sinking feeling worse, my stomach doing summersalts. I open my mouth to speak, but I can't find the words to explain. How can I make him understand? "Okay, I'll recap for you. You pretended not to like me than finally we kissed, than all a sudden Miguel is dragging you away and you're crying then you stop coming to work. Miguel told me to forget the kiss ever happened. But I can't. I love you Y/N, I'm sick of having to not say it. I can't forget and I don't want to so I'm not gonna."

I try poorly to hide my surprise at his sentiment. I want to tell him I love him back, and that I will find a way for us to be together. But I dorm want to prolong the suffering, I might as well rip the bandage off now. For both our sakes. So, I try my best to give a frank explanation.

"I broke my canon when we kissed, and I had been trying to avoid you because I knew that if the opportunity presented itself I wouldn't be able not to. And I was right. I wasn't able not to. Because I love you, but I'm not allowed to. Its not canon."

"Who gives a fuck about canon events?" He snorts and my eyes flicker up to meet his.

"Miguel says it'll destroy my universe. He wants to help me."

"If he wanted to help ya he wouldn't kick you out of the spider society for one bloody kiss," He says but I look at him wearily. "Look around Y/N, your universe is fine!"

"I messed up, I shouldn't have kissed you. I'm such a screw up," I say, tears threatening my eyes. I notice Hobie's gaze soften and he puts his hand on my leg, unintentionally sending electricity throughout my body.

"No you're not. Nobody cares about 'canon events' love. Your universe will be just fine no matter who you date or marry or kiss or whatever," He smiles in a comforting way. Did he say marry or did I just hear what I wanted to hear? But regardless, no. He's wrong. If you mess with the canon than the multiverse will suffer, and it's selfish of me to think I could be the exception. I push his hand off gently, even though it breaks my heart.

"I'm already on an 'extended break' from the spider society, and we all know what that means. I can't just throw my life away! My job is to protect these people, the people of my earth, not to risk their lives for personal gain." I explain, desperation filling my voice as I plead him to understand. "it's better to love each other from a distance."

"I refuse to accept that!" Hobie exclaims, crossing his arms against his chest. I can tell he had been in bed before coming here because of his ninja turtle pajama pants and a blue shirt with clearly home-cut cut off sleeves that reveal his toned arms, not that I noticed..

"I'm sorry," My glossy eyes fall to my fidgeting hands, and I jerk slightly in surprise when Hobie's hand grabs one of mine.

"I'm going to fix this Y/N, and we're going to be together. Trust me darling," Hobie says, placing a swift kiss on my forehead before standing up.

"Hobie-" I start but he cuts me off with a shake of his head. With that, he leaves out my open window and I stare at the window for at least five minutes. I don't know if I want him to come back and hold me and promise me everything will be okay, or leave and never come back so I can move on. I don't know if there's a way to fix things. I don't know what he can possibly do.

All I know, is I really want him to find a way.

I spend three excruciating weeks wondering, worrying, and wishing. When the one month mark hits, I finally give up most of my hope. He didn't find a way, or maybe he just moved on.

I have painfully carried on my responsibility of being spider woman around my city. I can't lie and say I do so joyfully, I do it begrudgingly. I know i should love my job, helping people and keeping my city safe, but everything reminds me of not just Hobie, but the whole spider society.

No spider people have contacted me, which I tell myself is for the best. Its hard to convince yourself that something so painful is the right thing, but whay else can I do? If I give myself time to sit and think about things, I'd be even more angry, sad, bitter, and I'd go into a funk. So instead, I spend hours and hours doing anything I can to distract myself. If I'm not going to lay in bed and immediately fall asleep than I'm not tired enough, because I'll lay and begin to think. When I start to think, I start to shut down.

Tonight was particularly exhausting. I yank my mask off, throwing it in my hamper. I take off the rest of the suit, leaving it on the floor as I sleepily stumble to the bathroom. Somehow I manage to shower, my hair thrown in a knotted and tangled messy bun. I throw on some fresh underwear and an oversized t-shirt. I brush my teeth lazily and then get into my bed. Immediately my eyes droop, falling into slumber. Before I can be deep asleep, my window is opened loudly and someone steps inside. I can hardly open my eyes I'm so sleepy, but I can make out Hobie Brown. His tall frame sends my heart plummeting and I roll over in bed, burying my face in my pillow. Maybe if I ignore him he'll leave.

"Y/N, im sorry its been so long." He apologizes and I just groan, still attempting to tune him out. I don't want to deal with this, as selfish as that seems it's true. I've spent a month trying not to think about him but really I have thought about it, and I love him and I think I always will. The longer we try to salvage it the worse it is for us.

"There was a lot of work stuff, and I didn't want to come see you without a fix," He says and all although I couldn't see him, he was grinning at me. Something about his words sparked the hope that I had tried to give up and I roll over so I'm staring up at the ceiling.

"But you're here, so do you have a fix?" I ask, my voice raspy from exhaustion. He jumps onto the bed next to me, laying down next to me on his back. We both gaze at the ceiling and I try not to be too hopeful.

"I do, honestly I can't believe you'd ever doubt me." He chuckles and my heart begins to beat quicker.

He found a way.

Part three?? Sorry this one was short!

Tags: // @liliummz // @themarvelprince // @misselsbells06 // @american-sataness // @cr0ssoverf4n4tic // @depressednoob // @cerene-ciderr // @leighanne03 // @inluvwithfictionalwomen // @singhfae // @mythixmagic // @itsyourboymicheal // @ravensinthedaylight // @dai-tsukki-desu // @url0calw3irdo // @daisydark // @snzzysstuff // @0-n-1-x // @darkdakota8998 // @narcissticassidy // @abbiejoker10 // @bellabnuuy // @alex--awesome--22 // @edgyficuselastica // @zombieblogx // @lady-of-nightmares-and-heartache // @koalaray // @justareader18 // @hobiespick // @sukisprettyface // @furblrwurblr // @grellshottieboyfriend // @i-love-ptv // @inspace1 // @seulg1luvr // @danis-stuff-is-here // @solecitoszn // @swaggybbq //

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pretentiousgayguyidk · 2 years ago

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-Human Service Dog-

Ghost, Soap, Price, and König

Sorry if some of them are short, I was running low on juice (i need caffeine)

Well i straight up forgot i wrote this- so uh here have it i think it's finished (I'm really not good at this author thing 💀)

"Ghost" Simon Riley

Ghost grunted quietly, sitting down on the couch of the Survey Corps lounge. He leaned forward a little bit,clasping his hands tightly, his breathing was heavy as if he were stressed.

(Name) took note of this, approaching the Lieutenant without any hesitation. Soap watched from afar, anxiously anticipating the rookie getting beat to hell and back. Ghost glared up at the rookie in agitation, the young man simply smiled a little before sitting next to Ghost. The British man huffed a little, staring at the rookie with an unamused look.

"Stressed?" The younger asked quietly, Ghost just looked away slowly shaking his head in annoyance. (Name) sighed quietly before laying across Ghost's lap making the older man freeze up.

"Bloody 'ell are you doing?" He grumbled, not exactly angered - more so confused than anything else. (Name) smiled happily.

"DPT," he stated plainly, before joining the service he was a Psychology major who worked a little with service dogs. He had learned all the minute details of nearly every human emotion, easily able to read people and respond accordingly. Soap had choked on his drink, coughing aggressively as he watched the bizarre scene before him.

"The hell is that?" Ghost questioned again, no longer stressed or angered. He was utterly shocked, baffled as to why anyone would do something like this.

"Deep pressure therapy, it's used by service dogs to help ground people who are in disarray." The Brit sat there for a moment, staring at the newer addition for a while before finally speaking up.

"Get off."

"Alrighty!" He said, unbothered by his superior's aggressive tone. He could tell just by the solder's stature that he felt a little better. The (colour) haired man got up and left with a small wave, going back to his room.

Once left alone, Soap smiled cheekily looking over at the Lieutenant.

"So Lt. You enjoy your little date?" He asked smugly, earning a death glare from the masked man.

"Shut. The fuck. Up."

"Soap" John Mctavish

Soap paced around, running his hands through his mohawk as he huffed and puffed. The others sat and watched as he continued this display, sighing aggressively.

"You done?" Ghost asked, clear annoyance present in his gaze. Price crossed his arms, also growing tired of Soap's dramatic display. (Name) stood up from his seat, and walked closer to Soap.

"Hey, Soap sit down." The Scot paused in his pacing before shaking his head and continuing. The (light/dark) haired man sighed, grabbing Soap by his hood and dragging him over to the nearest chair.

"Hey! What-" Soap was cut off as he was sat down in a seat with the more stubborn man sitting in his lap. The Scottish man flushed pink from the embarrassment and or humiliation as he tried to push him off.

"Chill out, I'm trying to help you." Soap looked up at him with bewilderment.

"Help me? How is this-"

"Deep pressure therapy, now shut up and breath dummy." The other grumbled, leaning against Soap lazily. Gaz burst out laughing at the display, earning a slap to the arm from Price, who attempted to hide his amusement.

"You suck..." Soap grumbled into the others shoulder, gently hugging the other as he came to accept his fate.

"Love you too buddy."

Capt. Price

The older man sat at his desk, exhaustion and stress oozing out of him as he slumped slightly. (Name) quietly knocked at the door of Price's office, peaking in as he cracked the door. Price looked up with a tired smile.

"You need something?" He asked quietly, (Name) looked at him for a moment before stepping in. His expression was a mix of concern and determination. Without much hesitation he plopped down into his Captain's lap, hugging the older as he did so.

Price has already beared witness to this display before, silently accepting it. He sighed tiredly, gently patting the younger on the back.

"Thanks."

"No problem Captn."

König

The squad took shifts going out for supplies like groceries, and this week it was König. Despite his aggravated curses he begrudgingly went out for food. By the time he got back he was slouching, his heart hammering in his chest as the anxiety lingered.

(Name) greeted him, helping him carry in the groceries despite knowing König was more than strong enough to do it himself. König appreciated the help, although he would rather have emotional support than help carrying things.

Once inside, König dropped the groceries in the shared kitchen before speed walking to the nearest comfy chair. Once seated he leaned forward, his forearms resting his upper body weight on his thighs.

(Name) was quick to notice this, approaching his larger friend. König sat up slightly, looking up at his companion with half lidded eyes. The shorter smiled a little before sitting down, straddling König who exclaimed in incomprehensible German. (Name) hugged him as he sat there, earning a appreciative sigh.

"I hate people." König grumbled grumpily, his face pressed into (Name)'s shoulder. The shorter gently ruffled his hair as he continued to grumble and complain about how he would "get back at them" for this.

"It's alright, König... Just beat their asses during training," he suggested, earning an enthusiastic gasp of realization.

"Im gonna kick all of their arses!" He growled, almost literally earning a small chuckle from the smaller.

#ghost x male reader #simon “ghost” riley #male reader #cod mwii #soap x male reader #soap mctavish #captain price #price x male reader #könig x male reader #gay #fluff #mlm only

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lokisprettygirl · 7 months ago

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Rain to his Fire (Modern! Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon 80s Au) (18+)

Read Chapter 5 here// Series Masterlist

Chapter 6

Summary: Your anger gets Daemon in a bit of a trouble. Something really awful is going on at the king's landing wellness center.

Warning: 18+, smutty scenarios, crude language, boring chapter, description of Statutory rape, discussion of mental health (it's a fic based in a mental health facility), mention of physical assault, the fic would contain several mentions of several disorders like mpd, did etc, if something triggers you don't read, smoking.

You found yourself idly picking at your cuticles as you waited for Dr. Vis to enter his office. You had been called in for a discussion and your gut told you that it was about Daemon. Despite working at the center for two years now, you couldn't even remember the last time the two of you had shared a full sentence but since Daemon had arrived you were on his radar for some reason.

As you heard him entering the office, you stood up to greet him. However, Dr. Vis gestured for you to sit back down,

"You are Y/m/n's daughter, correct?" Dr. Vis asked you as you sat down. You nodded, feeling a rush of emotions at the mention of your mother “She was a lovely lady, always so polite and warm” he commented but you couldn't really tell whether he was genuine with his compliment or not. You didn't think of him as a person who'd remember a custodian of all people.

“Yeah” you smiled as you didn't really know what else to say.

"There's something I'd like to discuss with you about Daemon" Dr. Vis said, and your heartbeat quickened at the mention of his name.

“Daemon-?” You questioned, much to your surprise your voice came out really firm.

“He's been under my care for years now, but I have never seen him so violent as he was with those guards” you gulped as he said that “I visited them and they confessed to me why Daemon attacked them” he continued,

“Why?” You asked him, pretending as if you didn't know the reason already.

“Because of you” he paused for a moment before continuing “those men perhaps said something nasty about you, which i assure that there will be repercussions for such a behavior but that is the reason Daemon attacked them, now if there's one thing i am certain of is that Daemon doesn't do anything that would not serve him in return” he continued

“I'm sorry i don't understand what you mean” you responded as you tried to keep your voice neutral.

“I'll be plain with you y/n, are you offering him services beyond your duty as a custodian?” Your eyes widened in shock as he questioned you plainly. The implication of the question left you feeling embarrassed and angry at the same time.

“Absolutely not, I take my work seriously and always treat patients as such” you mumbled confidently, the confidence came from the anger you felt at his insinuation, even though he wasn't completely wrong.

There have been touching and inappropriate conversations between you and Daemon but it was all over last night, you didn't want to get involved with him again especially if he was entertaining the likes of Shyla as well.

“Daemon is a borderline psychopath y/n, you must know what that means right? He's charming and highly manipulative but everything he does is for his own gain” Dr. Vis said with utmost conviction. Daemon might have been an arse but a part of you knew he was far from being a psychopath with no empathy for others.

“Why does he call himself a dragon?” You asked him so Vis let out a laugh but it wasn't the sort of laughter that could bring anyone any comfort or understanding, on the contrary it chilled you to the bone.

“Because he's sick, why did you ask?” he mumbled, his tone was dismissive.

“It's just I found feathers in his room and when I questioned him he told me that they belonged to him”

The smile on Viserys's face disappeared as you mentioned that, a part of you knew you shouldn't have said anything to him, what if he hurts Daemon more? You felt the sinking feeling in your gut for letting the words slip out of you in nervousness.

“Feathers you said?” He looked at you confused so you nodded “He must have hidden those in his belongings when he came here," Vis repeated, watching you closely. “Guards must not have checked his bag properly. It's just a part of the act, y/n.”

You gave him a nod as he said that.

“Is there anything else you want from me?” he smiled and looked at you intensely as you said that

“Keep me informed if you find other suspicious things in there”

“Sure” you stepped out of his office, rolling your eyes throughout the way. What did he think of himself? And Why did you tell him about the feathers? The guilt was only going to get worse as the day goes on.

As you made your way to room 393, you found the guards doing the thorough search of his belongings. Great job y/n.

Daemon was already tied up to a chair and handcuffed in the corner of the room.

“Ummm can I proceed?” You asked John so he nodded.

“We are almost done, do you want us to leave him like that? For the sake of your safety?” John asked you so you looked at Daemon, there was a definite smirk on his face that most instantly vanished at your response.

“I'd like that, thank you” you glared at Daemon and you could tell he was confused by the sudden change in your demeanor.

As the guards left you quickly went on to do your work, ignoring Daemon altogether. You were acting like a scorned ex-girlfriend and it took you a minute to realize that.

You heard him sniffing as he looked at you up and down before he spoke to you.

“You're upset..why?” He asked you but you ignored him again and that was enough to rile him up.

“Heyy talk to me alright?” He raised his voice a little bit so you glared at him

“i don't want to talk to you, I don't want to look at you and i don't want anything to do with you” Your words were harsh and your tone was cold, making it clear that you wanted nothing to do with him and that was your plan but then his eyes flickered and you could see that he was hurt by your response.

“Why? I apologized yesterday, you forgave me-” you cut him off mid sentence before he could go on,

“And then you decided to fuck Shyla”

As your words sunk in he snickered at first, went quite for a moment, and then cracked his neck in disbelief.

“Bravo..I was wondering why I was being raided first thing in the morning. What did you say to Vis , hmm?” he asked, voice full of hurt and confusion. You knew he felt betrayed about you going behind his back.

“It was a slip of the tongue. I didn't mean it” you defended yourself and though it was true that you didn't share the information just to hurt him, you knew he'd feel hurt anyways.

“Oh why don't you accept it that you did it on purpose?” he asked you, his tone remained loud and snarky.

“Perhaps I did, now we are even” you retorted so he chuckled again.

“Oh are we? You can't hurt me because you're hurting, isn't that what you said yesterday”

“Don't turn this around on me alright? You don't get to be upset with me” your eyes welled up as you felt the surge of emotions coursing through you.

“I share those things with youuu, I choose to do so, because I believe in you or I did at least”

You didn't answer him as he said that. What were you supposed to say? You shouldn't have told Dr Vis about the feathers, you regretted doing it as soon as you had opened your mouth but you felt on the spot in that moment, what you had seen last night coupled with the nervousness you felt under Dr Vis’s suspicion made you feel so angry and you took it out on him. These days you were doing things you never thought you'd do. He really was driving you insane.

“You know what your problem is?” He asked as he suddenly rose up from the chair, breaking the rope and the handcuffs in one quick motion as if it didn't take a single ounce of strength.

He stepped closer, until you felt like he was practically looming over you so you crossed your arms defensively,

“Tell me, what do you think my problem is?” you challenged him

“Your problem is that you don't listen or ask for explanations, you just assume things.. you're so fucking judgemental..you saw her visiting me and just assumed that we were fucking in here” He spoke angrily, his jaw clenching, teeth gritting, face contorted with rage.

“I don't care if you're fucking her”

Now that was purely a lie which even you couldn't deny.

“Huh then why are you acting as if I have broken your heart?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I am-” you didn't even know how to justify your behavior. What was it to you if he was sleeping with other women? He wasn't your boyfriend.

“I don't want to be a part of this ..i can't..I can't.. feel this way that I am feeling, I don't like it ..it's hurting me and I don't like it” you trailed off, barely able to form a sentence that would actually make sense to him.

“I didn't ask you to come to me, to tend to me, to steal for me, i didn't ask for those things” his eyes welled up as he spoke, he felt as if he was losing you forever and it didn't feel right at all but if he was hurting you so badly then he didn't want to add to your misery either. If he was becoming too much to deal with he would not force you to be his friend or more.

“Right”

You looked at the shredded ropes and the broken handcuffs as you reached for them to clean it up. How did he have such marvelous strength? A part of you really wanted to believe that he was something extraordinary, but then he was also not well, he was a patient.

“We didn't fuck..i didn't touch her like that” he mumbled suddenly and your heart skipped a beat, you couldn't tell whether he was lying or not but then he really didn't have any reason to lie to you.

“Why else would she come to see a man who had supposedly harmed her?” You asked him as you grabbed your cart so he chuckled.

“She wanted to confirm a rumor she had heard at the hospital and she told me why she had lied that day”

“Why did she lie?”

“Why do you care? You didn't want to be a part of this right?” he mumbled sarcastically so you bit on your cheek and nodded.

“Right”

With a heavy heart, you silently turned around and left his room. You had made such a big fuss, and for what? You couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for how you had behaved. Not only had you made the entire situation worse by telling Dr. Vis about the feathers, but you had also acted like a terrible friend and betrayed Daemon's trust in the process.

During Lunch hour he caught you staring at him, he knew you wanted to talk to him, it's not as if you had many friends here, he was starting to think that he was the only person you had genuinely befriended in a long time, your aversion to men wasn't just limited to sex but the whole idea of intimacy in general.

Later that night when you went to bed you felt extremely upset about the whole situation and you really missed him, perhaps you shouldn't have jumped to conclusions so easily, eyes can be deceiving and a part of you trusted him when he said that he didn't sleep with her..

As you heard the knock on the door, you quickly leaped out of your bed and ran towards the door but composed yourself before opening the door.

“You know if you apologize I will forgive you” he mumbled as he walked past you and pulled down his hood. You knew you owed him a genuine apology for how you had acted this morning.

"Daemon, what are you doing?" you asked, shocked as you watched him frantically open every drawer in your room, rummaging through your possessions. You didn't see what he had taken, but you knew he had taken something and tucked it away in his pocket.

“Apologize darling” he mumbled as he turned around to look at you so you crossed your arms.

“Im sorry, I didn't mean to rat you out..that's not the kind of person I am .. usually” you looked down as you spoke, your heart felt heavy and he could sense your discomfort so he walked towards you.

“Why did you go into his office?” he asked, his tone now gentle.

“He called me in, Darryl and Jacob had told him that you attacked them because they had made a joke about me” Daemon was silent for a moment as he processed your words.

“You know about that?”

“I heard last night, that's why I wanted to see you, and then I saw Shyla and assumed -”

“That I was fucking her.. and that made you upset” he was smiling as he finished his sentence so you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah whatever, he asked me if I was offering you uhhh bed services or something for you to get so upset about a stupid joke-”

“Joke? They were insulting you..these people that you work with and trust so blindly”

“I don't trust them..I don't trust men ..i know how ugly they can be..but you can't attack people-” you responded as you felt a sense of frustration.

“I can and I will again if I hear anyone talking filth about you”

His words were bold and confident, and they didn't fail to have an impact on your already budding feelings. As he spoke, you found yourself staring at him, unable to look away. Despite everything that had happened this morning, there was still a connection between the two of you that you couldn't ignore.

“And why is that?” you asked him so he grabbed you by the shoulders as he pulled you even closer.

“Because you're my friend sweetheart..I care about you, is that enough?”

“You can't attack people Daemon” as he attempted to pull away from you you reached for the collar of his hoodie and for a moment he was taken aback,

“I appreciate that you did..that you care enough about me but I don't want you to get hurt again, okay?” he couldn't help but smile as you said that. You worried about him, that much he knew.

“Alright, next time I'd hurt them less enough that they're not hospitalized” he said as a matter of fact so you let go of him, not knowing whether to reprimand him for being so stubborn or kiss his stupid face for being so protective of you.

“What did you steal from my drawer?” you asked to cut the tension so he stepped away from you.

“I'll show you woman..calm your gorgeous tits” he mumbled with a grin evident on his face, his words making you feel flushed instantly.

“Other men can't make a joke but you can talk to me this way?” you mumbled to hide your giddiness.

“I only do it because you allow me to, the day you'd ask me to keep my mouth shut for real, I'd never go against your words”

He always knew how to warm his way into your heart again, didn't he?

“If it's a scissor or a knife you better give it to me right now” you mumbled to steer the conversation again so he smiled and pulled out the scissors from his pocket, his hand wrapped around the handle, a part of you feared for his safety, he definitely was unpredictable and unstable at times.

“Daemon give me that please?” You mumbled softly as you stepped closer to him so he chuckled lightly.

“Ohh you beg so sweetly darling..but don't bother I'm not going to hurt myself i promise or you for that matter” he assured you and it did make you feel better but you still wanted to snatch that scissor away from him.

“Then why do you have it?” you questioned him softly so he smiled again.

“Trying to prove a point”

You couldn't even understand what he was trying to do so the shock and fear you felt was unimaginable when he started to chop away those beautiful locks of hair on his head.

“Daemon– “

“Calm down darling I can hear your heartbeat it's so loud…it's just hair …they grow back”

“Why are you doing this Daemon?” your eyes teared up as you questioned, a part of you felt awful seeing him chop those silver locks so carelessly.

“Just told you, I'm trying to prove a point”

“What point?”

“You wanted me to show you, that night you asked me to open your eyes so that's what I'm going to do”

“Cutting your hair is going to accomplish what?”

“You'll see”

Once he was done cutting his hair in a haphazard manner he walked towards you and grabbed your hand as he went down on his knees.

“Touch them” he spoke firmly but his tone was demanding and soothing at the same time.

“Why?”

“So you'd know they're real, that I'm not fooling you with a wig”

You hesitated for a moment but eventually wrapped your fingers around his scalp. He closed his eyes as you ran your fingers through his locks, and you heard him purr softly when you pulled on the roots lightly to confirm that they were indeed real.

“What now?”

You asked him softly so he chuckled, as his eyes raked over your inflamed cuticles he brought each finger to his lips and kissed on them one by one as if his kisses would soothe the burning sensation.

“Now you wait” you sighed deeply as he said that.

“Why don't you just come and see me when you're turned into a dragon?” you asked him softly so he sighed.

“It doesn't work that way, sometimes I can only grow my wings, the other times my hair is the only thing to transform, at times I'm able to build fire with my fingers but I lack the control, it comes and goes instantly, the reason why I have been so confused all my life is because everyone around me made me believe that I was losing my mind and at times i thought so too but not anymore” he mumbled, his voice laced with frustration but you could tell that he was choosing to trust you again with his secrets and mysteries. Or his delusions.

“You can..build fire?” you asked him so he nodded again as if it wasn't the craziest thing in the world.

Could that be the reason why he was burning like a furnace all the time?

“Okay, then I wait” you mumbled softly so he rose up slowly and hugged you tightly before he left that night.

However two days passed and his hair still looked the same, it looked really awful and you could tell that he was getting antsy about it as well. He clearly felt embarrassed and frustrated but dragon baby or not, you were going to help him get through this thing. Perhaps this was a coping mechanism for him , something he had developed as a child to cope with the loneliness he had surrounding him..

Three days later you finally dragged him out of his room and took him to the groomer in the facility to get his hair fixed. You liked how the longer hair looked on him, it made him stand out and if you were being honest with yourself it gave him a distinct aura but as he said it was just hair and it would grow back, at least he wasn't hurting himself.

As you assisted him back to his room he seemed a bit gloomy so you stepped inside and closed the door to offer him some comfort.

“Why are you sad?” You asked him so he sighed.

“Now you think I'm full of crap” he muttered, as if he was expecting you to judge him and call him a lunatic.

“I don't think that way” you responded.

“You certainly don't think very highly of me” he mumbled, his eyes seeming as if he was close to tearing up.

“That's not for you to decide” you told him confidently so he snickered at first but as you walked towards him and wrapped your arms around his waist to embrace him, you could see his defenses breaking down. “Besides, I don't care whether you're a dragon or not, I don't care whether or not you can turn into an otherworldly creature. I just care about you and I don't want you to get hurt” you mumbled as you looked up at him and you could tell he wasn't really expecting that, he was expecting you to make fun of his delusions and not be such an angel about it.

“So it's not a problem for you if I am lying about it?” he asked curiously so you gave him a smile.

“I'm sure you think you're not lying, it's real in your head and i believe that”

As you laid down in your bed that night, your mind was filled with mixed emotions. You couldn't stop thinking about the situation, and you found yourself feeling guilty about what you had done by telling Vis about Daemon's supposed feathers. You knew that you had made a huge mistake, and you really wished that you were capable of taking it back somehow but it wasn't possible.

The next morning as you dragged your cart into his room, you quickly beelined towards the bedside lamp, it was dark in his room and you heard the shower running already, which was a surprise as he often slept until late..

As he came out of the bathroom you had your back turned towards him so he smiled,

“I want to show you something” he mumbled in his “I'm sexy first thing in the morning voice” so you shrugged in response.

“Put your clothes on first..or just a cloth would do” you requested him so he grabbed a trousers from the closet and put it on.

As you turned around, you were greeted by a shocking sight - there he stood with a long, wet, silver mane cascading down his shoulders, almost reaching his waist.

As he approached, you took involuntary steps behind but there wasn't much room for you to hide. Was that a wig? How did he find it if it was? It can't be real right? What would you do if it was real? What would that even mean? You found yourself going through an existential crisis at the moment.

As you hit the wall, he placed his arms around you to entrap you between him and the wall, and he smelled divine, which wasn't really fair to you, you must smell like cleaning chemical products all the time, you thought..

You finally dared yourself to look up at his head, particularly at those long luscious thick hair.

“Touch it” he asked you as he let out a whispering voice so you shook your head, your eyes already teary so he grabbed your hand and brought it closer to his head before he leaned down and pressed his nose into your neck like always.

“Touch them please” your fingers eventually clutched around the roots of his hair and you sighed, from the relief but also the weirdness of the situation.

“Pull” he whispered in your ear so you closed your eyes and pulled on his strands slightly to confirm that his hair was actually real. It was all real.

“How?” You asked him a stupid question so he pressed his head up and looked at you intently.

“You know how, you just don't want to believe it”

“You turned into a dragon last night?”

“For a moment, it was enough”’

“What if I'm crazy.. and this is a hallucination? Just my mind playing tricks on me? What if this is not even real? What if you're not real” you looked up at him with your teary eyes and trembling lips so he tilted his head. He didn't expect you to understand this, not yet, nobody did, but at least you didn't run away from him at the first sign of trouble, last night you were in here telling him that you'd care for him no matter what, even if he was crazy and delusional you showed him that you'd stand by him.

His hands dragged up from the side of your waist and your breaths picked up immediately, his fingers then trailed the side of your curves, making your knees feel weak at the touch.

“Would this feel so hot if you were hallucinating darling?” he asked you as he opened the buttons of your cardigan, your fingers clutched around the waistband of his trousers.

“Daemon-” you whispered his name as his fingers glided over your chest, your nipples became erect quickly, the thin bra you had on did nothing to hide your shame. As he finally touched the aroused clothed nubs you almost combusted.

“It's all real, I'm real and I'm trying to show you who I am” he whispered in your ear as he cupped your breasts in his palms and rubbed his fingers over your bosom.

“How? Why? It can't be real Daemon” you asked him, not in the sense of judgment but disbelief. You found yourself annoyed by your own questions but he smiled instead.

“I don't really know, i wish to know why I am this way and I'll figure it out, that's why I'm here” he told you as he brought his palms up to cup your cheeks, thumb grazing over your lips tenderly.

“I'm sorry I am trying to make sense of it, I don't want to hurt you, I'm sorry if I still seem doubtful but I'm trying” you mumbled almost quietly so he nuzzled his nose against yours to calm you down.

“I know, i know sweet girl, thank you, nobody has tried before, nobody cared enough, just you being here is important for me”

You got on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck to hug him, the scent of your hair calmed him for a moment but then he heard something and he immediately had you pressed against the wall with his hand wrapped around your throat, a moment later the door flung open.

“What's going on over here?” Dr. Vis asked so and you felt Daemon's grip around your neck tighten for a moment before he let you go.

“Your stupid fucking maid can't even do her job properly” he stormed towards Vis so he glared at him, a moment later two guards entered and handcuffed Daemon, you knew if he wanted to get out of their clutches he could have done so easily but he didn't even try.

“Are you alright dear?” Vis asked so you nodded, you knew Daemon pretended to attack you in order to protect your job and your image in front of Vis but you didn't think Dr. Vis was a man fooled so easily.

“Yes, I just need a moment” you mumbled as you caressed your neck and fixed your cardigan as you moved towards your cart to get the fuck out of there.

“What is this hmm?” Vis asked Daemon as he flicked his long hair to mock him.

“For a doctor you surely are dense”

The remark earned Daemon a slap on the cheek and then he was dragged out of the room for his therapy session.

The possibility of Daemon being an otherworldly creature was becoming more probable day by day and you didn't know how to accept it. How was it even possible? Did his mother sleep with a dragon? Or she was a dragon? Dragons existed? There were other human dragon hybrids in the world or he was the only one? Your brain was running a mile per second with all those thoughts in there.

Later that night you somehow were able to sneak into his room, there was a mark on his cheek and it made your heart clench for him,

“This is not right daemon..he can't treat you like this all the time, you're a patient here, not a prisoner” you mumbled softly as you caressed his cheek so he sighed,

“We need to stop seeing each other like this” he mumbled suddenly but it didn't really surprise you, you knew it was becoming dangerous for you both.

“Mmmm I'll stop tomorrow..did he not question the hair?” You asked him so he shook his head.

“He blames it on generalized hypertrichosis, claims that i have had it since birth”

“Even with the condition you can't grow 12 inches in a night-” you said to him and you could see the grin forming over his face “Shut up”

“I didn't say anything”

“You're doing it in your head”

“Head is definitely involved darling”

“Shut uppppp ..” you mumbled again so he grabbed your chin and leaned into you to kiss your forehead.

“They're beautiful” you mumbled softly as you grabbed a lock of his hair between your fingers, they were silky and so shiny as if he had just returned from a hair salon.

“Would you cut them a little bit shorter for me?” he asked you so you hummed in response before you spoke.

“Mmmm I definitely can but you should keep them for a night, I can braid them for you”

He was definitely happier about the prospect of getting his hair tended to so he excitedly sat down on the floor after passing you the brush. You carefully brushed the tangles and braided it from the sides before you tied those ends together in the center, he looked beautiful, you couldn't really take your eyes off him.

For some reason you just knew that this particular memory was going to stick with you for a long time to come.

The next morning, as you went about your morning routine, you couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity wash over you. When you saw two policemen in the corridor with Viserys, it piqued your curiosity more than ever before. The police had been around the center quite a few times, usually when a patient would run away. You decided to investigate, and made your way towards the cafeteria, hoping to find answers. As you entered the room, you saw Shyla crying, and Dina trying to comfort her so you approached them as well.

“What's wrong?” You asked her so Dina sighed, her response wasn't what you could have expected even in your worst nightmare.

“That previous patient Tanya from 393? Her body was found in the woods nearby last night”

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Taglist

@anukulee @ammo23 @littledark11 @stupidthoughtsinwriting

@daenny-t

#daemon targaryen x female reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader fluff #daemon targaryen x reader smut #daemon targaryen x reader angst #non canon au #modern day au #modern daemon targaryen

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