#and i might have written down a prompt for a fic
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anime-grimmy · 11 months ago
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Sooo, as has been evident from me rambling so often about it, I’ve been reading a lot of Genshin fics lately (specifically Sumeru centered ones), and it is so funny to see how headcanons and AUs change between the releases of the characters. 
Ofc, this sticks out to me especially with Haikaveh cos Kaveh got released so late for showing up so early and ppl ran far with their ideas. One of the biggest theories was (and I think still kinda is) is that Alhaitham is or at least is linked to the Scarlet King bcs his eyes have the same shape as the eye portrayed in the Forbidden Knowledge cutscene.
After the quests came out where you find out about King Deshret’s and the Goddess of Flowers’ relationship, ofc ppl started to push Alhaitham and Kaveh in the respective roles, which, ngl, I totally vibe with. Even more so cos I can only image the Goddess of Flowers with Nilou’s kinda personality (since her outfit is supposed to look like the Goddess) and the thought of her reincarnation still being good hearted beyond believe, yet also a fucking idiot with anger issues is so fucking funny.
However, the theory I personally even more subscribe to, is that both Alhaitham and Kaveh, at least in an design aspect, represent the Scarlet King. I cannot by God find the one vid that talked about it, but they laid out a lot of design specifics that rly did make sense. This ofc, made me think a lot about it too.
Alhaitham could represent King Deshret’s mind and rational side, the part of him that made him a genius and good leader. As much as Alhaitham acts as if he sucks as a leader, which from a personality standpoint might be true, his abilities and critical mind say otherwise. Alhaitham is strategic and very wise for his age, but also curious and ambitious about the knowledge he seeks. He is not without fault either, as, despite him saying he acts only out of self interest, he still does act very arrogantly and above others.
Kaveh on the other hand shows King Deshret’s soul. Clever and curious in his own right, Kaveh seeks out knowledge not only to learn and understand but because his emotions drive him to reach for it. Kaveh has a bleeding heart and follows its voice more often than his mind’s, yet that makes him empathetic to people and care about them, which we know the Scarlet King was known for as well (caring for his people, that is). His emotions and self-sacrificial nature are his crux as well, though, and lead him close to his own downfall time and time again, much as it happened with King Deshret.
Both Alhaitham and Kaveh make up the body. As is evident how haywire the theories went when the Forbidden Knowledge quest came out, Alhaitham’s eyes bear a strong physical resemblance to Deshret’s supposed eyes. Not to mention, we know Deshret is often described as powerful, so I wouldn't be surprised if Alhaitham’s body build is part of that too. For Kaveh, in that one video I mentioned they said that Kaveh’s attire seems to represent some sort of royalty. Also, in a world quest, though I don’t remember which one (i think either aranara or djini) the NPC you travel with says the traveler reminds them of King Deshret, especially the golden hair, which ofc also works for Kaveh.
(Mind you, I havent dived that deeply into Deshret lore and I did zone out during the world quests often, so pls do correct me if I say sth stupid.)
So yeah, the two sides of the same coin. We already know these two have been designed as perfect mirrors to each other, in their ideologies, personalities all the way to their colour schemes, but with regarding the headcanon they’re both aspects of the Scarlet King, it’s also an interesting analogy to think it’s Deshret’s different sides clashing with each other. 
Yes, yes they’re basically the Left Brain Right Brain meme for King Deshret.
Also, as I’ve said, I’ve read my fair share of fics with the Scarlet King reincarnation, which is usually Alhaitham. I am honestly too lazy to write a whole ass fic about it, but you can bet your ass my mind has conjured up enough stuff to fill a few pages. To finally get it outta my head tho, I will just ramble here instead.
I personally don’t think that Alhaitham and Kaveh are reincarnations of Deshret, even though it’d make sense why his body and mind would be two separate entities, as he split himself to avoid spreading more Forbidden Knowledge. I see it more as the two being “blessed” with parts of his soul or something.
Ngl, the whole thing came to me during the one World Quest where you clear up the sandstorm above King Deshret’s Mausoleum and you get to this big platform on top. I dunno, it just looked so cool and it made me think of how this could have been a ritual site or something. So, perfect place for some foreign memories to invade your brain, no?
Also, you cannot tell me the Akademiya wasn’t frothing at the mouth when the Mausoleum finally became accessible. I’d assume they’d send research teams up there after the Traveler cleared the place, and it would seem logical for both Alhaitham and Kaveh to be interested in the place, their respective curiosities spurred by the fragment of Deshret inside them.
They and a small group of scholars take it upon themselves to scope the place out, and eventually end up at the top of the pyramid. Kaveh would marvel at such a grand stage so high up in the air, being able to see into the far reaches of the desert. But he also feels trepidation in his soul, though he brushes it off.
Alhaitham and him conduct their respective researches, Alhaitham jutting down any interesting runes and scripts he finds on the podium, while Kaveh sketches the many columns and the scenery behind, his mind running wild trying to understand how such impossible structures hold. But as he stands at the edge, looking out upon the empty desert with its many ruins, a thought pops into his head.
The desert should not be dead like this.
It’s then that Kaveh feels something shift inside him. Sensations rush over him, the sun beating down on him so differently than just moments ago, the air smelling not of sand and dust but of spices and flowers, the stillness of the desert filled with the distant rush of a city well lived in and people calling him yet not shouting his name.
Kaveh stumbles back to the middle of the podium, only for Alhaitham to meet him halfway. They stare at each other with wide eyes, stare at the other but seeing reflections of themselves. Kaveh bores into Alhaitham’s intense gaze, seeing the many questions and the fierce determination to solve each and everyone of them reflect in those piercing pupils of his, and thinks:
Only a gaze as steeled as mine is fit for a king.
Alhaitham roams his eyes over Kaveh, over his golden hair reflecting the sun, making it almost blinding to look at, over proud shoulders, pushed back to straighten his stance, over calloused hands, twitching in the need to create, and thinks:
Only a presence as loud and vibrant as mine can win over my people.
The spell is broken as fast as it had come when one of the scholars of their group asks for their assistance. Kaveh and Alhaitham busy themselves with helping out the rest of the research group for the remainder of the stay to not let those intrusive thoughts resurface and really just hope that it was some weird hallucination caused by the heat or dehydration or something.
Lucky them, it wasn’t.
And really, all this fancy dressing in the form of a story just to come to the one headcanon stuck in my head:  If both Alhaitham and Kaveh are the Scarlet King, and they were to inherit his memories, I believe they’d experience them differently.
Alhaitham would have tangible memories, thoughts that’d pop into his head unbridled. He’d see the tension between Desert folk and the people of the forest and think “This is not what we fought for.”. He’d run across Cyno, discuss matters of the Akademiya with him and think “As competent and loyal as ever, just as is to be expected of my General.”. He’d meet with Nahida and think “No matter the shape she takes, her wisdom remains the same.”.
Kaveh on the other hand would experience the memories with sensations. He’d witness a fight between the matra and Emerites and be transported to a battlefield, as countless shouts and clanking metal were heard while the unmistakable taste of blood sat heavy on his tongue. He’d look at scholars disassembling a Primal Construct and his hands would itch for his tools while his heart sped up in excitement, even if Kaveh knew his knowledge of such machines was limited. He’d watch Nilou dance in the Grand Bazar and almost buckle under the mix of elation, yearning and unfathomable grief that overtook him.
(it would also be funny the other way around, as in, experience the memories with the parts “missing” from them. Though Kaveh, being the overthinker he is, would have an easier time cos his head is filled all the time with thoughts anyways. Alhaitham would have a real crisis though lmao)
At the end of the day they’d come home to each other, stand face to face and stare into a mirror of themselves, all the while the edges would start to blur and it’d become increasingly difficult to know where one of them started and the other ended.
I dunno where I’d even go with this story, in all honesty. I personally don’t like the kinda fics where King Deshret actually “awakens�� and either takes over or integrates into the person he wakes up as. I think I’d push a story like this more into the territory of this experience making the two learn more about themselves and each other. As in, since they both “derive from” the same person, even if they’re steadfast in their own beliefs, they’re kinda forced to actually see from the other perspective as well. While this would probably lead to even more arguments, I believe it’d also manage to blunt their edges and while they still can’t agree with each other, they understand and therefore don’t always go on the defensive with counter points at the ready. 
Tho, if both are considered King Deshret, would that count as self-cest.
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vamphorica · 1 month ago
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so not only do I have a few more kinktober fics to polish up, i need to get started on fics for mattmelloweek, but i am also letting my brain fester and rot about Big Fic (ascension) since giving myself a deadline of january to begin writing and publishing chapters.
can you tell i was unemployed for a few weeks when i made these plans?
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jyou-no-sonoko19 · 5 months ago
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Going through all my old CAoS mini-fic prompts for mental health, and this was one of my favourites. Here are the rest!
"What is that supposed to mean?" (Marie & Zelda)
“Is it okay to laugh?” (Lilith & Sabrina M)
“After all these years, I am free” (Mary & Lilith)
"I'm sorry if it's boring, Lilith, but you can make up your own..." (Mary & Lilith)
"Zelda regarded the empty mortuary with a strange mixture of feelings that sat tightly in her chest." (Zelda & Marie)
"Mr Putnam, I appreciate the thought… but a front yard full of onions is not exactly the best first impression for a mortuary business." (Ambrose & Theo's dad)
Zelda sat stiffly behind her newspaper, failing to absorb the words her eyes ran over, as the chair next to her was pulled out from the table. (Zelda & Prudence) Lilith looked at Zelda with a half-smile and said, "You never give up, do you?" (Zelda & Lilith)
“Can you hear it?” (Roz, Theo, Mary)
“Stop it, you’re killing the mood” (Lilith & Blackwood)
"Um... okay. I see you've redecorated... with a... conspiracy board?"(Sabrina, Roz, Theo, Mary & Lilith | WardwellSquared Universe)
...And now, once again:
𝘓𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘣𝘰𝘹 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘷𝘦!
"Zelds... I've always asked you to stop killing me... but I've never asked why. So... why? Why do you do it?"
Zelda remained silent, unconvincingly stone-faced, as Hilda lowered the letter, its orange and cream notepaper still fresh after nearly a century. 
Hilda blinked the gathering sheen away from her eyes. “That’s the last one. It’s... strange that I never threw them away, innit? Not like I haven’t figured out, you know, a lot of the answers myself, I just, well, before I leave I thought maybe you should know.”
Zelda’s voice was no rougher than usual, at least to the untrained ear, but Hilda’s were far from untrained. “You never sent me a single one. Why, sister? You knew where I was every step of the way.”
Hilda tilted her head, gave Zelda an affectionate look grown out of her own private pain. “I didn’t really, though, did I? Anyway...” She shut the tin box, fastened the flimsy clasp, and stood. “You can do what you want with them, really. And the poppets. I just don’t want to take things like that with me now. Moving in with Richard, I... I just want to start fresh. I don’t want to be afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing anymore. And I don’t want to accidentally react to something he says--”
“As if he were me,” came the thin croak, quickly subsumed by a drag on her cigarette.
Hilda’s answer was quiet, but resolute. “Yes. Zelda, I, I really love him.” A smile of guileless glee was there suddenly, and a light in her eyes. “I want to be able to love someone without fearing them. You understand. I know you do.”
Eyes averted, Zelda only nodded.
“I’m sorry, Zelds. I hope you’ll find it again, I really do. But I’m... I’m not going to risk missing this chance. I don’t know how long we have together, but I’m going to enjoy it as much as I can.”
Zelda cleared her throat then, a guttural sound full of regret. “I hope that you do, Hilda. I pray to Hecate and our ancestors that you do. And I hope that... the things I’ve done...” the quiver in her lip quickly vanished into the cigarette, and within moments she had recovered, “that they don’t hold you back. I hope you know that I, I’ve always...”
Hilda leaned down and patted her sister’s knee, where it sat tightly crossed, just like her spirit clearly was. “I know, Zelds. But... it doesn’t really change anything. Does it?”
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𝘓𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘣𝘰𝘹 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘷𝘦
(or whatever happens apparently...)
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street-smarts00 · 9 months ago
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Complimentary Colors
Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader
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WC: 7.3K
Summary: After recently joining the team, you and Spencer could never get along. What started off as you two ignoring each other turned into bickering at work. What happens when a stressful moment for you turns into an opportunity to get to know this fascinating coworker of yours?
tags: enemies to lovers, fluff, brief mentions of crime/murder at the beginning (talking about cases/kidnapping), reader is shy and anxious, reader looks young for her age. (reader might be female but i don’t think i specified)
A/N: I haven’t written anything in years and I’ve been on a criminal minds kick for a while. I had this idea loosely based off a prompt I saw on cai by (ApolloTheBoykisser) so thanks babes ;) also for once I had a fic of mine beta read lol my bestie beta read this for me. This is also posted on my AO3 page.
You had been working at the BAU for the last few weeks. You tried to get to know most of your coworkers and it seemed like you were making great progress. You had heard a lot about the team before you joined and were pretty intimidated by them at first. Okay- you were still pretty intimidated by them. But you pushed through your quiet exterior little by little and slowly but surely tried to get to know them. 
All except for Spencer Reid. It seemed like he was trying to avoid you. He was always very quiet and would barely talk to you. Being a shy person yourself, you thought maybe he was just shy or a quiet guy. However, he continued to ignore you except for when he had to acknowledge you for work. 
His coldness towards you was increasingly annoying as time went on, and your perception of him had slowly warped. The things about him you once found endearing, you now forced yourself to hate about him. If he rambled for too long, it could potentially make your blood boil. However, you could never stop paying attention to when he rambled on about facts or statistics. You didn’t want to admit it, but you found him fascinating.
It didn’t take that long for him to start acknowledging you, but this soon turned into the two of you bickering like children. When you were discussing cases or profiles, you both would argue over motives, victimology, crime scenes- literally anything about the case- you two could turn it into an opportunity to contradict the other. You both still kept a level of professionalism to not let your rivalry affect your job. 
But there was always this tension between the two of you when you were in close quarters for too long. 
And at some point you both reached your boiling point. 
Last week, while the team was on a case, you and Spencer had gotten into a little spat once again. This time it went beyond the slight bickering or contraction. In the middle of the local precinct, you two were at each other's throats. 
“What was that?” You asked after you and Spencer left the interview room that held a victims family. 
“I was working off of the profile . . .” 
“You mean the profile we haven’t finished?” You interrupted. “The one we are still currently working on and have yet to disclose?” 
“That doesn’t mean we can’t work off of the information we already have,” he objected. 
“You told her information we are still unsure about. We don’t know for a fact how long he keeps them alive,” you accused while placing your hands on your hips, trying to conceal your frustration but failing.
“Guys.” Someone tried to tone things down. Neither of you heard who and you weren’t backing down.
“If I remember correctly, I heard you discussing this very subject and inputting your thoughts  . . .” 
“You still shouldn’t have told her! Especially when you don’t know for sure if her daughter could be alive,” you seethed stepping closer.
“Would you rather me hide everything from the mother who’s suffering from the disappearance of her daughter?” He asked, matching your tone and taking a step forward. 
“I didn’t say that!” 
“It sure sounded like it.” 
“Reid. Y/N.” The two of you turned your heads to your boss like two deer caught in headlights. 
“With me, now.” Hotch demanded and led you to an empty interview room. 
You could tell how angry he was- despite the fact that his stoic face represented almost every emotion in the book. But by the tone of his voice, you knew you and Spencer had messed up. 
“You two do not only represent this team, you represent the bureau. These cops are already not pleased with the idea of their boss calling us in and I do not need you arguing in front of them and giving them a reason to take us off this case. You must learn to respect and cooperate with one another or I will take you both off this case. Do I make myself clear?” He lectured. 
You both replied with a monotone “yes.”
“Good” 
Ever since your argument, you both had been relatively quiet towards one another. Like it had been in the beginning when you were ignoring each other. But that didn’t stop you from letting him invade your mind at every waking minute. It almost saddened you in a way there was no more bickering or quick remarks with him. With how much it annoyed you, you never thought you would miss it. 
The team had just finished a case and before everyone packed up and went home, Rossi announced that tomorrow everyone should come over for a little ‘get our minds off work’ get together. Your coworkers all thought it was a great idea to relax after the last few very stressful cases. 
As excited as you were to finally go to one of Rossi’s house parties, you were also scared shitless. Parties with relatively new people in your life were hard. You were so quiet around new people and were scared to approach others; you often waited to be approached. To you, being a profiler was easier than having a social life. 
But, maybe this time would be different. There’s not that many people on the team and you’d already started to familiarize yourself with them. 
The next day, you were pulling up to Rossi’s house. If there was anything else to be intimidated by with this man- besides his years of experience in the BAU- it was this giant house. You were greeted by the man himself at his front door. 
“Y/N, glad you could make it.” He opened the door and welcomed you in. 
He led you inside to where everyone else was gathered. Everyone was cheery at your arrival. Penelope with her clicky heels ran up to you and greeted you with a hug. It was refreshing to be around people who were so welcoming. It made it a little bit easier to really let your walls down. 
Well, almost everyone. Spencer gave you a small wave from where he stood. 
The night continued on and you would occasionally engage in conversation with the team. At this point, you were off to the side- standing in the kitchen and occasionally sipping some wine that Rossi had been bragging about and was just so excited for everyone to try. You were a bit too overwhelmed to go back to talking. The music was getting a bit loud and the lights seemed to be too bright. You opted for sitting on the barstool next to the counter and observing everyone around.  
They were all off in small groups or pairs around the house. All except for you and Spencer. He was another outlier and standing away from all the commotion. You looked over in his direction and he caught your eye. You both glared at each other and you quickly averted your gaze away from him. Your thoughts started to race and you began playing with your hair. 
After a moment, he glanced over in your direction again when you weren’t looking. He was unintentionally profiling you and noticed you getting overstimulated. Your eyes laser focused like you zoned out, your foot tapping against the chair, and your hand anxiously playing with your hair. 
While he wasn’t exactly your friend, he did understand what it felt like when social gatherings got overwhelming. He made his way over to you, careful not to make you more nervous or uncomfortable. 
“You okay?” He asked you. You were pulled away from spacing out. His voice sounded a bit concerned- which took you by surprise. You were partially relieved someone approached you to help bring you back down to earth. That someone noticed something was off. What confused you was the fact that person was Spencer. 
“I’m fine.”
He was well aware of what it meant when someone was “fine” and you were clearly not fine. He felt bad that you were so quick to shut down his attempt to check on you. After all, it was his fault and he knew that. 
“Do you wanna step outside?” He asked. 
You were conflicted. You didn’t want to be outside alone with him, but at the same time, you needed some time away from everything. Maybe it would help calm your nerves. 
“Maybe for a bit.” 
You followed him outside onto the back patio. You took note of the fresh air and the muffled sounds from inside. It all felt like a weight lifted off your shoulders. Pretty soon though, you realized how awkward it was to be outside alone with him. 
Spencer cleared his throat and spoke to break the silence, “Sometimes these parties can be . . . a lot.”
“A little bit. I was doing fine for a while but I think my social battery is running low.” You confessed to explain your discomfort. 
“Yeah” he replied. He appreciated the fact that you felt comfortable enough to express this with him. He tried to relate to you. “It’s the same with me. Sometimes I just need a moment to collect myself.” 
“Exactly.” You were relieved to hear that he felt the same way. “Plus it doesn’t help that I'm so new to the team.” You crossed your arms and slightly closed yourself off.
“I was the same way when I first joined.” He told her to try and ease your concerns. You were just like him at some point. The new guy and just trying to figure out how you fit in. 
“It’s difficult at first, but you settle down after a bit. Once you get to know everyone.” 
“Yeah it’s just the whole getting to know them part is a bit . . .” You abruptly stopped, hesitating to reveal too much to him.  
“A bit what?” 
“Intimidating,” you confessed, avoiding his eyes.
He obviously noticed your hesitance and avoided his usual behavior with you. You were always so strong and quick to banter with him. But now you seemed vulnerable, and he didn’t want to take advantage of that. 
“It’s not just you, I promise.” He was being honest. This was the calmest and most genuine conversation the two of you had ever had. “I find them all pretty intimidating.” 
Your eyebrows raised at his confession. How could he possibly be intimidated by these people?
“Really? But you’ve known them for so long. You all are so close.” 
“Close doesn’t mean you can’t be a little intimidated,” he replied. It might not make much sense, but it was the truth. 
“I mean Hotch is always stonewall and silent, no matter what you say to him. And don’t even get me started on Morgan.” He joked, knowing you would understand. 
You lightly chuckled at his joke. “I get what you mean.” You were starting to understand him more. You thought it was ironic that one of the team members you were first intimidated by was also intimidated by the team. Now he was starting to seem less intimidating or annoying and more approachable. You kinda liked seeing this new side of Spencer. 
“I guess I’ve always been like that. Worried to get to know people or open up.” You weren’t entirely sure why you were telling him this, but you knew he would understand. 
"I think when you're afraid of being hurt or judged or misunderstood by people, you try to keep your guard up." He told you, speaking from experience. From a young age until now, he's always felt misunderstood. 
"And I think...maybe that's why you're on edge with me? You're not sure what to expect from me."
“Are you profiling me?” You asked jokingly. Spencer however thought you were serious and you noticed him tense up. 
“I’m kidding.” Your expression softened to let him know you weren’t actually accusing him of profiling you. “I’m gonna be completely honest, I’ve been on edge with you cause I thought you didn’t like me.” 
He was a bit taken off guard by your statement. But at the same time, he couldn't deny it. He didn't dislike you now, but at first, he wasn't exactly fond of you. And now he was ashamed of that.
"I didn't like you." He admitted. "I thought you were pretentious, too eager to be accepted. I think I saw you as competition." 
Spencer’s comment did sting. It was never sunshine and rainbows to hear someone doesn't like you. However, you did take note of his language. He said “didn’t,” “thought” and “saw,” all past tense. Does this mean he doesn’t dislike you now? What you did appreciate was his reciprocated honesty. You both were making some progress in your relationship and you wanted to continue it. 
“I was eager to be accepted. I wanted to feel like I belonged.” 
“I know how you feel.” He expressed his sympathy. “I regret not giving you a chance. You’re not like I thought you were.” He also appreciated seeing this different side of you.
“You’re not like I thought you were.” You admitted. 
A little smirk tugs at his lips, “So I’m not as pretentious and selfish as you thought?” 
You lightly chucked, “I never thought you were selfish, but I did think you were a ‘know-it-all’ and trying to show off.” 
Spencer really didn’t want you to think he was a show off. Sure- he had a vast amount of knowledge, but he never wanted you to think he was bragging or that he knew better than you. “I do know a lot but I promise I’m not trying to show off. I just have all this information in my head and I want to share it with people or I’m really passionate about something and want to talk about it.” 
You understood that feeling all too well. There were so many times you wanted to ramble on about things you cared about or had knowledge on, but for the most part just stayed quiet. Meanwhile, he didn't keep quiet. He would go on and on. And while almost everyone else was either rolling their eyes or trying to shut him up, you were listening intently. You didn’t want to admit it back then, but now you were feeling up to it. 
“I will admit, while I did think of you as a know it all, I found a lot of your tangents interesting.” You admitted. 
His eyebrows raised in surprise. He was so used to people dismissing him. It was nice to hear you often would listen. “Really? You didn't mind me babbling on?" He asked, relieved with your response. 
"I mean, it is something I have trouble with. I tend to talk too much.” 
“Oh Dr. Reid I am very familiar with rambling and being worried about talking too much.” You paused for a moment- considering how much more you wanted to share with him. “I know it may not seem like it because I’m always quiet around the team but.. once I get comfortable around people, I actually get very rambly”
"You do?" He asked, sounding surprised. “About what?”  
“Really anything. Mostly things I’m passionate about like you. I’ll also tend to go on tangents about memories or just things happening in my life.” 
You made your way to a bench on the patio as you spoke. Spencer followed and sat down on a chair adjacent to you. You brought your attention back to him and noticed his focused gaze on you and he quickly licked his lips, a habit you noticed he did all the time.
"You really are a lot like me. You're just quieter at first." He added, teasing you a little. While he was not one for social cues, he had the sudden urge to be bold and make a joke. "Maybe next time I see you rambling, I won't immediately contradict you." 
You dramatically dropped your jaw and placed your hand over your heart. “Wow, you really know how to give a compliment,” you said, pretending to be offended. 
He laughed with a bright grin. "I'm sorry. Let me rephrase. The fact that you're so silent and reserved makes it that much more thrilling when I find out how much of a chatterbox you actually are." He joked, being playful as before.
Your cheeky smile slightly falters for a moment. You hoped he wouldn’t notice but he did. “I think you won’t be so thrilled once I actually turn into a chatterbox around you.”
"Actually I think I would find it intriguing." He told you, looking directly into your eyes. "The quiet ones tend to be the most interesting and complex when they do end up talking."
“I’m not that interesting.”
“I beg to differ. You’re very interesting. Probably the most interesting person on the team.” 
Did he really say that? Did he mean it? Or was he just being nice? You tried not to profile him, but couldn’t help it. His body language expressed he was being honest. Uncrossed legs and arms, open palms, eye contact. The only thing you didn’t notice when studying his body language was his dilated pupils. 
“Thank you,” you smiled at his compliment, “I doubt I’m the most interesting though. You maybe, Mr. Three PHDs and can read 20,000 words per minute.” 
He smiled back at you, “Just because I'm well educated doesn’t mean you can’t be as interesting as me, if not more.” 
You couldn’t believe he was saying such nice things to you. This was the first time you guys were actually making some kind of connection.. and it felt wonderful. 
“I still can’t believe we’ve known each other for this long but are just now talking. And by talking, I mean not getting into a spat after speaking for more than 3 minutes.” You confessed with a hint of playfulness in your voice at your joke. 
“Yeah, I feel like I barely know you.” 
“What would you like to know?” You asked. 
He thought for a moment trying to think of a question to ask. You noticed once again that he licked his lips, trying to concentrate. 
“Let’s start with something simple. What’s your favorite color?” He asked. 
“Wow, I think that’s a bit too personal.” You said, voice laced with sarcasm. You tried your hardest to contain your amusement but started to smile. He smiled back at you. At first, he was always confused with sarcasm and social cues. To be honest, he still was. But he could just tell with you. He knew when you were joking and when you were being serious. He found your sense of humor amusing. 
“Yellow.” You answered. “What’s yours?” 
“Purple.” He replied. 
You intended to leave it inside your head- but a quiet “huh” made it past your lips as an idea came into focus. 
“What? Is it my choice for my favorite color?” He tried to joke with you but was also a little bit serious. 
“Oh no, it's just I thought it was interesting because those are complementary colors. You know how they are opposite on the color wheel?” You asked even though you figured he knew. 
He nodded his head, “Yes! Because they are on opposite ends of the color wheel, when they’re used together it creates a vibrant contrast and enhances visual appeal. The two colors almost balance each other out and support each other's intensity. Complimentary colors are a key component to color theory.” He suddenly noticed how long he was talking and his posture stiffened. He pressed his lips into a thin line and avoided eye contact. “Told you I talk too much.”
“And I told you that I find your rambling interesting.” 
His head perked back up at you. You genuinely wanted to listen to him. It was refreshing to talk to someone that didn’t cut him off or zone out. 
“That’s kinda like us though, don’t you think?” 
“What’s like us?” He asked confused, still thinking about the fact that you actually enjoy listening to what he has to say. 
“How our favorite colors are complimentary colors. Like you said, they support each other's intensity. When you first see them they’re opposites, but the more you look the more they compliment each other.” 
He softly smiles. “That does sound like us. The more we learn about each other, the more we find we have in common.” 
There was a short pause where you both considered his statement. You did want to know more about him. You wanted to know all of him. 
“Can I ask you a question this time?” 
“Of course.” 
“So, you're always reading. Like everywhere you go, you carry a book with you. I wanna know: what’s a book you could read over and over again and never get tired of?” You wanted to know beyond his favorite color. You wanted to get to the various  building blocks that made him the way he was. 
Spencer considered your question for a moment. Trying to go through the near infinite list of books he’s read in his life. You could tell he was concentrating on his answer because licked his lips. “Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens.” 
“Is he one of your favorite authors?” 
“Yes.” He said almost immediately, confident in his answer. 
“How come you like that book so much?” You asked.
You could see this sort of spark enter his eyes the more you asked about it. Giving him the chance to share his passions. ”Oliver Twist was one of the first books that used satire to deliver social commentary. Particularly in this book the social commentary was aimed at poverty in 19th century England. The book also quickly gained attention after its publication due to the scandalous subject matter in which crimes, such as murder, were depicted in detail.” 
Spencer finally stopped rambling and almost looked as if he caught his breath from the endless talking. But what he was met with was your undivided attention.
”That sounds really interesting, maybe one day I should give it a read.” You say with a soft smile.
“You should,” he matched your smile, but it seemed a bit more sheepish due to his brief tangent. “Have you ever read Charles Dickens before?”
You shook your head in response. “I’ve never read anything by him. I actually don’t read much. But I used to in high school.” You revealed. 
“What have you read?” He asked. He leaned slightly forward and unconsciously mirrored your body language and placed his right hand on his leg like you did yours.
“Pretty much the same books everyone else had to read for school.” You paused and tapped your fingers trying to refresh your memory.
“To Kill A Mockingbird, The Great Gatsby, 1984, um.. a few Shakespeare books.” You answered with the few books you could remember. 
“Which one did you like the most?” 
“I’m not sure”, you sighed and thought about his question, wanting to give him a genuine answer. “Maybe.. Macbeth. I remember finding the story interesting and I did a group project on Macbeth and Lady Macbeth's descent into madness. Like the scene where she’s hallucinating the blood on her hands.” 
Your voice started to pick up speed and volume ever so slightly. He could tell you were getting more passionate the more you spoke. Subtly displaying how you could ramble once you opened up to someone. He smiled as you continued, happy to see that you felt comfortable enough around him to let a hidden part of yourself out into the open. 
“I guess that kinda explains why I wanted to be a profiler and learn about psychology and forensics. I was interested in how Lady Macbeth's guilt manifested and caused her delusions. I wanted to understand why people did the things they did.”
“I can tell, you have this curiosity. You want to understand. Know the ‘why’. He mentally recalled the times you would express your curiosity during work. 
“Yeah, pretty much.” 
He pressed his lips in a line. “Is it- is it my turn to ask you something now?” He stuttered slightly. 
“I mean you don’t have to. It’s nobody’s ‘turn’ but you can if you want.” 
“I do.” He replied immediately. The corners of your mouth perked up into a small smile. He mirrored you.
“I may be stealing your previous question. Like you said you don’t read much. But I have noticed you listen to music a lot. I want to know a song you could listen to over and over again.” 
He was right, you often listen to music. Mostly on your way into work or on the jet, you would be wearing your signature headphones and have some playlist on. It was your own way of coping with the stress of your job. You looked down at the ground as you recalled the songs in your favorite playlist. 
“Dreams by The Cranberries.” You brought your eyes back up to face him. But what you saw was confusion in Spencer’s eyes. He tried to hide it but you knew better. “Have you heard that song?”
He did that little sideways pout you often saw him doing when he was in awkward situations.
“I’m not sure,” he replied. Spencer broke eye contact, embarrassed he didn’t know something from pop culture. 
“It’s okay. Remind me next time I have my headphones and I’ll show you.” You spoke calmly to reassure him there was nothing to be embarrassed about. 
He brought his attention back to you. Relieved to hear your gesture instead of a quip about his lack of pop culture knowledge like he was used to. 
“I will.” 
“Alright my turn.” You shifted your weight and brought your legs up to your side so your whole body could face him. “Um, it's kind of a personal question though. I’m curious about something.” 
“Go ahead. What is it?” He asked, giving you his whole undivided attention. 
“Does it ever bother you when people question your age when you say how educated you are?” 
He was somewhat thrown off by your question, but something told him you've wanted to ask him this for a while.
He furrowed his eyebrows, “I wouldn’t say it bothers me. Considering I have had such an extensive education so early in my life, it’s completely understandable that someone would question how I did it at a young age.” 
“Hmm,” you hummed in response. He knew that wasn’t the answer you were looking for. 
“Can I ask you something personal?” He asked before asking his real question. He appreciated your concerns about potentially pushing a boundary and he reciprocated it. He didn’t want to break this newfound friendship- if he could call it that- by making you uncomfortable. 
You nodded your head, silently telling him it was okay.
He slightly fidgeted with his hands. “Did you ask me that because people question your age?” 
“Yes,” you answered hesitantly. “I’ve never looked my age.” 
He thought about his next question before asking. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, I’m just trying to understand. Why does that bother you?” 
“It bothers me when people don’t take me seriously. I mean I’m in my late 20s and some people still think I look fresh out of college. It hasn’t happened as often since I joined the BAU but so many people in law enforcement don’t take me seriously. People tend to think I’m too innocent to have a job like this.” You confessed to him as you avoided looking him in the eyes.
"I wouldn't say you're innocent.” His comment brought your eyes back to him. 
“But you do have a soft demeanor. It makes you approachable. If anything, those qualities are an incredible asset to this job whether it be when you're speaking to victims or their family members.” 
Even though he would often throw snarky retorts to you in the past and try to get under your skin, he always admired how good you were at your job. Of course, you were an amazing profiler and had no trouble standing against dangerous unsubs. But the way you handled incredibly sensitive situations with such calmness and comfort with others was admirable. During cases with children, you were able to ease their worries and provide a safe space.
“While you are very sweet and shy, I would never call you innocent.”
“Thanks,” you smiled at his compliments. You felt understood hearing his affirmation. It also warmed your heart to hear that he thought so highly of you. Especially since the last few weeks, you thought he hated your guts. Although- his comment did make you more curious about how you were perceived. “Half the time I don’t realize how shy I am or how I present myself,” you weakly chuckled.
“There were actually a lot of ways to deduce that you're shy,” he matched your lighthearted tone but also kept a sense of seriousness to prove he was being genuine.
“Was it the fact that I was sitting by myself and scared to talk to them?” You half joked as you figured that’s what he was going to imply.
"That was part of it, yes. But besides that, it was the way you often avoid direct eye contact, and the tone of your voice. It's gentle and low, as if you're afraid of coming on too strong.” He was too caught up in his thoughts and observations to realize how much he was divulging. “You keep your distance and your words are always measured or not overly assertive. Almost like if you do come off assertive you will receive backlash." 
When he met your eyes again, he noticed how frozen you were. On the outside you didn't reveal much, simply had a stoic expression. He knew you better than that. He knew that he had hit a nerve and started to panic that he went too far. He had finally wrecked this slowly growing friendship like he thought he would, by being himself. 
“Wow, yeah that sounds pretty spot on,” you agreed. You sounded soft spoken and played with your hair again, of course without your knowledge.      
“I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He abruptly spattered in a panic.
“No it’s okay really,” you interrupted trying to reassure him. “I just didn’t expect you to be so ... correct.” 
He pressed his lips into a thin line, relieved he didn't mess things up, but still slightly worried he had left you feeling exposed. "I guess I'm just good at noticing things about people,” he shrugged.
“You forget, we get paid to notice things about people,” you joked with him, trying to make him feel better by lightening the situation. Of course, it worked. 
"That's true." He chuckled and paused for a moment to consider. Then he continued with his profile of you. 
"It's just the way your voice softens whenever you become uncomfortable, almost whispering or lowering in tone. Or your nervous habits, like when you play with your hair." It was a gesture he was pretty keen on catching.
You suddenly were very aware of the fact you were playing with your hair. You quickly dropped your hands and crossed your arms. 
"It's not bad that you do that, you know,” his voice had a slight crack in it. “It's just something you do subconsciously." He told her, trying to be comforting.
“Do you wanna know something you do subconsciously?” You asked, your voice with a hint of teasing. You decided that if he was going to profile you, you were going to profile him back. 
He noticed your tone and that you had gained a bit more confidence. "Sure, hit me." He said as he awaited your reply with curiosity and interest.
“You poke your tongue out a lot or lick your lips. Most of the time when you’re concentrating or lost in thought. Which means you definitely need to start using chapstick. I’ve seen you do it a lot since we’ve been out here.” You explained.
"So, are you telling me my lips are dry?" He replied playfully, his grin widening.
“They probably are,” you lightly laughed at the silliness of his question. He laughed along with you and subconsciously went to lick his lips again, but caught himself.
“I'm gonna be thinking about this so much more now,” he confessed. 
“Consider it payback for pointing out how much I play with my hair when I'm anxious. I don’t know what to do with my hands now,” you remarked as you dramatically waved your hands in the air.                                 
“Sorry,” he awkwardly apologized.
“I already told you it’s alright. You're not the only one who analyzes behavior. I’ve noticed plenty of things you do and why you do it.” 
“Like what?” He furrowed his eyebrows, curious what particular things about him you had profiled. He noticed something though. The confidence you once had, had washed away after you collected your thoughts.  
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you stated.
"You won’t make me uncomfortable,” he responded almost immediately. “I promise. I really want to know.”
You took a deep breath before explaining your observations. “You desperately want to be heard. You love to share the endless knowledge you have, but when someone walks away or cuts you off your reaction is almost that of deflating. And when someone does show a bit of interest in what you have to say your voice perks up and almost cracks with excitement. Then you talk a lot faster, probably a mixture of excitement and as a way to keep the other person engaged and to not lose their attention.” 
Spencer carefully listened to every word you said. Not a single deduction was false. You had read him like a book in the short time you knew him. You noticed something about him that most of the team couldn’t pick up on. 
"You're right about everything,” he said with a soft tone. Almost everyone interrupted him, you never did. This got him thinking. Of course everyone on the team made observations about each other, they’re profilers of course. However, he wondered why you had made so many about him. 
"Are you always this observant about everyone? And I mean everyone. Or is it just me that gets the special treatment?" He asked his last question with a hint of a teasing tone.
You scoffed, “yeah right, like you get special treatment.” You thought about your response, not wanting to reveal too much.
“I guess I might have paid attention to you because you were the only one who was so closed off to me. I wanted to know why. I wanted to know who you were even if you weren’t going to tell me.” 
He was right, you were paying him special attention. The fact that you wanted to know who he was despite his closed off nature revealed enough. 
“So you admit it, I get special treatment?" He cheekily asked. 
“Oh shut up,” you retorted. 
“Make me.”
Your lips pursed, holding back a smile. 
Spencer noticed you were trying to hold back a smile and found it endearing. He also noticed something else about your reaction. You were blushing. You blushed as a result of his taunting. He got lost in the thought of you blushing from him. 
“Something you wanna share with the class?” You teased. 
He didn't want to admit it, not yet at least. He wanted to make you sweat just a little bit and get a reaction out of you. 
"I'm curious about something. Could you tell me what would cause someone's cheeks to flush?" He tried to seem genuine but of course he came off with a hint of cheekiness. 
You furrowed your eyebrows. You were completely oblivious to your red face and were confused by his random inquiry. 
“Are you questioning my profiling skills?” You lightly scoffed, not knowing what his true intentions were.
"No, not exactly. I just want to know what you think.”
Your expression changed to one of confusion but also amusement. You decided to play along with his little game.
“Well psychologically blushing could mean a multitude of things. Embarrassment, stress, anxiety, attraction.” While your voice stayed consistent, he noticed the change in your breath and how your eyes darted away from him. It was a brief expression, but he caught it. He got the answer he was looking for.
"And which one of those can explain why you’re blushing?" He raised an eyebrow and smirked as he leaned closer to you.
Your stomach dropped and eyes widened. You shifted your weight in your seat and touched your cheeks. “I’m not blushing..” You ignored his question.
"You are.”
You sighed and stood up, “Well if I am it’s probably because you just pointed it out and I’m embarrassed.” 
"Oh, really?" He taunted and followed you. "I think that you might be blushing for a different reason."
You bit your lip out of frustration and crossed your arms. “Are you profiling me Spencer?” 
"Maybe I am,” he smirked. "I would say that maybe you've been so interested in me that you've been paying a lot of attention. That's why you took note of so many of my habits and behavior." 
Your face got redder and you started playing with your hair again. You huffed, “I told you before, the reason I paid attention to you was because I didn’t know you.”
"Sure, but you pointed out how you kept noticing I licked my lips. Why were you looking at my lips in the first place?"  
You were caught between a rock and a hard place. “Why are you so interested in why I’m blushing or looking at your dumb face anyway? Why do you care so much?” You asked defensively. 
He couldn’t respond, he froze up. 
“I mean, you question why I pay so much attention to you but here you are doing the same thing to me. Trying to read me like a book,” you accused. 
He cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I guess we're both curious about each other."
“I guess we are,” you responded. You saw his cheeks turn pink in reaction to your questioning. “Look who’s red now.”
If his face could even get redder, it did. For a man that could probably say a thousand words a minute, it seemed like none of them could fall from his lips. 
It was your turn to smirk. “I can’t believe I’ve managed to leave you speechless. Never thought that would happen.”
"Shut up,” he sheepishly scoffed. 
“Make me.”
Spencer felt his stomach flutter, he smiled bashfully at your mimicking his own teasing. The seconds passed and neither of you spoke, neither of you had words. Both of you in your own heads. In your head, you got a stroke of confidence. You didn't know where it came from, maybe the teasing, maybe the fact that you had him speechless. But you took it and ran with it.
��Maybe the reason you wanted to know why I was blushing so badly, is the same exact reason I was blushing,” you mumbled. 
The realization hit him in waves. You just admitted to the very thing he was trying to get out of you in the first place. He was speechless once again, but this was different. He stared at you with a stunned look, not knowing what to do. 
You took his blank expression as a negative reaction, thinking you came off too strong. You slowly backed away from him, regretting putting yourself out there. 
“Sorry. I don’t know why I said that. Just forget it.” You turned around to go back inside but felt something on your wrist. You turned around and saw Spencer had grabbed your wrist to stop you. His eyes wide and breath heavy.
"No. Don’t,” he begged. 
"Really?" You whispered softly. 
He smiled, "yes. Please don't take it back."
You smiled back at him bashfully. Spencer’s reaction make your stomach do backflips, but it made you wonder. 
"Can I ask, why did you pay such close attention to me? 
He released his light grasp on your wrist and instead placed your hand in his. "I couldn't stop analyzing every single detail about you. I wanted to know you inside and out. There was something about you that felt intoxicating. After every time I spoke to you, even if it was just us bickering or arguing, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” 
He looked down at your joined hands and started to rub his thumb over your hand. You looked up at him and smiled, glancing at his lips. “Well you definitely must be thinking about something now, you licked your lips.”
He couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed. You made him feel like he was on full display, like he was a book that only you could read. 
He slightly blushed at your comment. “I am. Can you guess what I'm thinking about?"
You grabbed his other hand with yours as a smirk grew on your face, “How close we are. How it’s probably driving you crazy..” You nearly whispered the last part as you leaned closer to him, “how I’m making you crazy..”
"You do.” Spencer wrapped one of his arms around your waist and placed his hand on the small of your back. A shiver ran down your spine as his hand touched your back. Of course, he could tell and was light headed by the effect you had on him. He’d never felt so intoxicated by someone before. “You’ve made me a mad man ever since I met you.” 
Your heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to burst out of your chest.
“What about you?” He asked. “Do I make you crazy?” 
You glanced between his eyes and his lips. 
“Yes..”
It was like you both were on the exact same wavelength. You both dove in at the same time and slammed your lips together. Both of you just so desperate to get a taste of the other. The kiss was tender and passionate, with no single person in control. You both moved together in synced motions. All of the arguments, all the tension that had been slowly building up could be released.
When you finally parted, Spencer rested his forehead against yours. You felt his airy breath as he tried to come back down to earth. You placed a hand on his face and stroked his cheek with your thumb. 
“I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks,” he breathed. 
“I can tell,” you chuckled. “what’s stopping you from doing it again?”
“Do you want me to?” He asked desperately. 
You placed your other hand on the back of his neck, “I love hearing you talk.. but shut up and kiss me.
Before today he never liked the idea of you telling him what to do. But now, he was at your mercy. He didn’t hesitate and locked your lips with his once again. You both melted together like lovesick teenagers. But moments like these of course don’t last forever. 
The sound of the patio door opening fell deaf on both your ears. It wasn’t until you heard Derek Morgan that you both pulled away from each other. 
”What’s going on out here?” Derek questioned with a smirk. 
You and Spencer couldn’t speak, too frozen to react. 
His grin only grew, “My man,” he chuckled as he glanced at Spencer.
“Don’t kill each other while you're out here.”  Derek left the way he came and closed the patio door. 
You sighed, “He’s gonna tell someone isn’t he?”
“Yup”
~
He made his way back to his coworkers with a cheeky grin plastered on his face. “What’s got you all happy?” Emily asked. 
“Looks like our two angry birds are now two love birds,” he answered. 
“What? What are you talking about?” Penelope sprinted over as fast as she could with her heels. 
“How I just caught Reid and Y/N making out.”
The room exploded with chaos at the reactions to his news.
JJ, who was standing off to the side with Hotch, furrowed her eyebrows, “I thought they hated each other?” 
Hotch glanced towards the patio door and saw the light shadow of two figures. “No they don't. Not really.” 
2K notes · View notes
slater-baby · 6 months ago
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Short (and v specific) fic request of how Simon would interact with an afab partner who was raised to be independent and self-sufficient (actively working on a computer science degree) but low key would rather be submissive, brain shut off, no decisions? 🥺
(ik there are already a lot of prompts out there like this but i love your writing style, pls feel free to disregard if this is not interesting/inspiring for you!!)
(can I be 💀✨ anon if there isn’t already one? :3)
Of course you can!! Thank you so so much for this request!! I didn't know if you wanted this to be spicy or not, but I went ahead and expanded on it! I hope you like it <3
Tags: Dom Simon Riley, Smut, Submissive Fem!Reader, she/her pronouns, praise kink
Edit: it just struck me when I was rereading over the ask that it was for afab!partner and didn’t have specified pronouns, but I wrote this with she/her. I’m sorry if u wanted gender neutral pronouns instead! Pls accept my deepest apologies ❤️
-
“That’s it,” you take a deep breath, clasping your hands in front of your chest, “Last paper’s finished.”
From a room over, you hear Simon make a small noise in encouragement. However, you’re so deep in your own mind that you hardly hear it, focusing instead on the sprawling lines of words and figures that lay out in front of you. For the past week, you’d been single-mindedly polishing off the final research paper of your senior year—an accomplishment which, to no small degree, would make or break your applications to grad school.
At the mere thought of it, you fidget in your seat, practically unblinking as you retrace your each and every key stroke. 
Well, you muse darkly, It can’t be the worst paper I’ve ever written, can it?
Dumbly, you bite your lip, and out of the corner of your eye, you spot an errant typo you’d somehow managed to gloss over. Instantly, your hands rush to correct it. 
Fuck, you seethe in your head, It could be the worst paper I’ve ever written. It totally could be.
Defeated, you make a small noise in the back of your throat, burying your head in your hands so that your tired eyes can’t read over another blasted line of your own research. So lost in your own mind, you hardly notice when the door to your bedroom opens and your boyfriend quietly comes to your side.
“Finished it off, did you?” He exhales, “Can I see?”
“Simon,” you grunt, struggling to find your words.
You don’t dare to raise your head in fear that he might see the frustrated tears currently working their way through your system. Well, it might be a little late for that. The tears and exhaustion are more than just painfully evident the next time you open your mouth to speak.
“Just wait another minute, okay?” You tell him, clearing your throat, “I’ll let you look in a minute, I just have to…”
Your wavering vision flits back to the screen, the entirety of your work overwhelming you all at once. Your fingers wring just that much tighter. Simon doesn’t miss the way that your chest expands with another anxious breath, and he looks down at where you sit with a cocked brow.
“Love,” he hums gently, “You alright?”
“What?” You whip your head around to look at him.
“Are you alright?” He asks again, clearer this time, leaning down next to you, “Just…seem a little in your head is all. Sure that paper’s not getting to you?”
On muscle memory alone, you shake your head, trying valiantly to straighten up.
“No, it’s just…” you stutter, mindlessly clicking about the page, “Look, it’s��it’s not all the way finished, I guess. I should do another round of editing. Y’know, just make sure it’s ready for my supervisor to look over…”
You hear Simon shift on his feet next to you, and his scent envelopes you as he leans over the desk to stare at the computer screen. Unconsciously, you scan over his bare face, watching his eyes read over the lines you’d written. Like that, you watch for some sort reaction or tell, something that would either confirm or deny all of your worst fears in their entirety.
“You sure?” He asks you hesitantly, gesturing towards the screen, “Looks pretty polished to me…”
“Well,” you swallow, “It’s—it’s still not ready. So maybe give me another hour or so, and then we can head out for dinner. Okay?”
Simon’s chest expands with an inhale, but he doesn’t move away. Instead, he pins you with a questioning look, body tense with unsaid words.
“Love, are you sure?” He begins softly, “I mean, you’ve been lookin’ over that thing for a bloody week already. Hell, the lads ’n I were on deployment for a good three months, and I swear that paper’s been the only thing on your mind the entire time…You sure that it’s not good to go? I mean, looks quality to me, love. You’ve done a bang up job.”
His eyes drift over the page, and although he’s listened to you explain the topic several times over, he swears his army brain is hardly sharp enough to decipher a single line of what you’ve written on the page.
“But…” he smirks, rubbing your back, “Then again, I’m not one of them lads in the fancy white coats. Can’t understand a bloody word of this shite.”
You might have been offended at that last word if you hadn’t been dating him long enough to know his tells. Getting Simon Riley to admit you had a bigger brain than he did? High praise in the most extravagant order. It was about the most sincere compliment he’d give any one of his closest friends. Hell, when you’d first met, he was so stoic that his compliments seemed more like commands than anything else. Idly, your mind drifts back to how he’d asked you on your first date.
“You don’t got a ride home from class, do you? Said your car was in the shop?”
“Yeah, it’s no big deal, I just—”
“Good. We’re going to dinner. At seven. Wear a something nice, yeah?”
“But, Simon, what—”
“Don’t be late.”
Yeah, it was safe to say you never let him live that interaction down. Not for as long as you lived. A year later, Simon was much smoother than you initially gave him credit for, but just because he home from deployment didn’t mean he’d gotten out of his bad habits. That was the officer in him, you suppose. 
“Just another hour, Simon,” your hands fly back to the keyboard, mind racing, “I—I promise I’ll submit it then, just give me a little…”
Simon watches as your eyes focus singularly on the words on the page, practically unblinking. The minute your fingertips hit the keys, you’re lost in your own task, oblivious to his presence. He bites his cheek with a small exhale, patting you on the back before walking out of the room. He lingers in the doorway, sparing a glance back at you.
You’ve been sitting in that chair for hours, fidgeting in your seat from how sore your back had become, and the bags under your eyes are nothing short of telling. He can see the redness in your eyes, the way your hands shake every time you lift them from the keyboard. You’ve been working yourself ragged, and if this essay wasn’t the final hurdle between you and your shiny degree, Simon would have ripped your body away from the computer before it destroyed you.
And yet…he bites his lip, clenching his hands instead of taking charge. It was the last assignment. He shouldn’t rush you.
But as he walks back to the living room, he finds himself simmering with a quiet frustration, eyes focused anywhere but on the TV as he presses play once again. 
You shouldn’t be working like this, he laments in his mind, You needed a break.
Simon had gotten back from deployment late last night, and when he’d walked through the door, you’d still been sitting at that blasted computer, hair frazzled from yanking at it in frustration. You’d jumped up excitedly to greet him, and yet, he could knew that look in your eyes. The exhaustion. The fear. The anxiety. The swollen skin on your face and the tired look in your pupils, the one that only came around when you’d been holding back tears, running yourself ragged.
He’d watched you work on that paper for hours—from dusk to dawn practically. And one thing had become exceedingly clear: that little head of yours was going to go crazy if you didn’t take care of yourself soon. 
Simon himself was far from okay with it. Sharing a bed with you at night—one of the few comforts he allowed himself—had even fallen victim to it. Last night alone, you woke up several times in a shock, jolting him awake behind you. You didn’t have to tell him what you were dreaming about. He already knew.
School, he groans in his head, That fuckin’ school would kill you in due time.
Don’t misunderstand him. Simon was happy that you were pursuing your dreams in such a feverish manner—ecstatic, even. Simon had been a jarhead his entire life, resigned to the camouflage the moment they handed him his high school diploma. To see someone like you working your hardest, chasing your dreams to the fullest of your abilities, it filled him with a blazing pride. And the fact that he got to stand by your side throughout the journey was a privilege he didn’t take lightly. By all means, you knew what you wanted, and you had no problem taking it.
But…
He glances towards your room, listening to the furious keyboard clacks beyond the entryway.
Your needs weren’t always at the forefront of your mind. The truth of the matter was that, sometimes, the guiding hand was more like an olive branch than a short leash, and there was no one better than Simon to understand that. Hell, since the beginning, he’d seen the truth of you: a girl who was headstrong and hard-working, but that needed something more than medals and accolades. A girl who smiled in the pictures, but crumbled under her responsibilities when she got home at night. A girl who needed someone to pick her up and put her pieces back together, no matter how many times she fell apart.
A girl who needed someone to take care of her, she just didn't know it yet.
And god, if this entire assignment wasn’t just yanking at his heart strings. 
It’s only been a year, he reminds himself, A year broken up by multiple deployments, too.
Simon knew what you needed, knew what you craved, even when you couldn’t admit it to yourself. It started as a slow trickle: pulling you into bed when it got late at night, picking up the slack in the chores, keeping your fridge stocked…y’know, the usual things any boyfriend should do. The bare minimum, really. 
And yet, even if the two of you had only just begun to explore each other, he finds himself yearning to do more—to take you in his hand, and pull you into his body time and time again. At least, until you understood how much you were worth, even when you felt like you were broken and bleeding, exhausted and beat.
The past few months had been a slippery slope. And just like anything else, a drop could quickly become a flood. 
It started off simple. Something so innocuous he hadn’t even realized when it began.
-
The two of you had been at a restaurant. Him, scarfing down steak like it was going out of fashion, and you, picking away at your bowl of pasta with a lost look in your eye. But then, your phone had trilled with that familiar notification: your Canvas app. And immediately, you’d dropped your fork, food all but forgotten.
Irked by your constant assignments, Simon’s temper had been short. And perhaps that’s why he’d said what he’d said. Perhaps that’s why he’d done what he’d done.
“Love,” he’d snapped, teeth grit, “Put your phone down.”
“But—But Simon, my professor—” you’d begun to explain, eyes filled with worry.
“Don’t care about your professor,” he’d grunted, pulling the phone out of your hand and shoving your fork into your fingers instead, “Care about you. Now, finish your food, love.”
“But, my homework—”
”I won’t say it again, love,” he’d pressed, voice firm, “Finish. Your food. Now.”
For a minute, you’d sat there in shock, watching as he pushed your phone into his pocket and continued eating as though nothing had happened. And yet, although you felt embarrassment in your veins, something else began to curl in your stomach—something eerily familiar, but shockingly new all the same.
Arousal.
Hot and burning arousal had hit you like a bucket of ice cold water right then and there, just at that simple command alone. It had felt so wrong, like something taboo, something meant to be hidden. You were a grown woman who could damn well carry herself. You didn’t need his guidance, and yet...
Somehow, you did.
Somehow, you needed it.
Somehow, you craved it.
When he spoke to you like that, like he’d take you over his knee if you didn’t listen to him…The thought of it had sparks igniting in your blood. However, overwhelmed with the sudden rush, you’d only continued eating, unable to meet his gaze when you shoveled another bite into your mouth. Simon had watched like a hawk the entire time, pushing your glass of water closer to you when you reached for it.
“There you go,” he’d commented as you’d taken a sip, “Good girl.”
-
And after that, those small moments somehow became something…more.
They came when you were slaving over your desk, lost in piles of research papers.
-
“C’mon,” he shocked you out of your reverie, hooking a strong arm under your armpit, “We’re going for a walk. Let’s go.”
“Wait—Simon, I only have one more page, just hold on—”
“That page’ll still be there when we get back, love,” he’d reprimanded, all but picking you up and setting you on your feet, “The sun won’t be. Now, go get changed.”
“But, Simon,” you’d whined, digging your heels into the carpet to stop him from moving you. HIs hand had only clenched tighter around your bicep, however, and he’d pinned you with a stern look.
“Do I have to say it again, love?” He’d warned, that now-familiar tone in his voice, the one he only used within the walls of your small apartment, soft with something that was all too familiar to how he spoke to you between the sheets.
“But, I…” you’d huffed, hypnotized by the fire in his eyes. It’s then that you found your body going limp in his hold, submitting to the squeezing pain of his palm around your arm. He’d watched intently, lips clenched with something he couldn’t name, as he surveyed the way you shrank under his gaze, the tension fleeing your body.
“No,” you’d whimpered, computer all but forgotten.
“Good,” he’d stepped closer, eyes flitting to your lips, “Now, go change. Something warm, yeah? S’cold outside.”
“Okay,” you’d answered meekly, jumping at the chance to escape the rapidly climbing temperature in the room. And when he’d patted you lightly on your bottom as you stepped out of the room, you’d be lying if you said your brain was still focused on your assignments.
“Good girl.”
-
Those two words echoed in your mind like a specter, following you throughout your home every time you stepped across the threshold. 
They buzzed under your skin when you listened to his words, when you did what he said.
They overshadowed your frustration, your exhaustion, your relentlessness.
Even when your professors showered you with praise, elevating you with their lofty words and recommendations, no single sentence amounted to the flood of dopamine that filled you when you heard Simon mutter those two, simple words.
Good girl.
-
Soon enough, those words were what you lived for, what you breathed for. And the way your body reacted to them—the way your mind clung to them, when diplomas and medals couldn’t satisfy you any longer—only made Simon all the more interested. 
Soon, it was so common you needn’t question it anymore.
-
When you achieved a high score on your first final exam, he’d been the one to greet you at the door.
“Great job, love,” he’d chuckled, pressing kisses against your neck while your arms squeezed his shoulders, “M’so proud of you.”
“Really?” You’d pulled back, looking up at him with tired shining eyes, “You mean it?”
“‘Course, love,” he’d brushed the hairs away from your forehead, expression softening, “Think this deserves a little celebration, yeah? How ‘bout dinner tonight? We’ll go to that place you like. The fancy one. Full courses ’n all.”
Immediately, you’d shaken your head, smile falling, “But, Simon, isn’t that a bit expensive? Wouldn’t it be better if we—”
“It’s not too expensive,” he’d rebuked, hands drifting lower over your waist, “Not for you. Not tonight. I mean…”
He’d pulled in a low breath, looking at you in your entirety. Entranced, you’d watched the way his expression melts, watch the way his dark eyes become even darker, even hungrier. And when his hands clench around your hips, dangerously low around your body, you hardly question it.
“You’ve been such a good girl, haven’t you?” He’d whispered, leaning in so that you can feel the length of his body, “Deserve a little reward, don’t you?”
And like that, you’d become lost in his voice once again, lost in the way that he looks at you, like all of your hopes, dreams, wants, and needs would be fulfilled with nothing more than a single look into his eyes.
“Yeah,” you’d muttered mindlessly, heat blazing under your skin, “I do.”
-
But those two words weren’t reserved for the high times only. No. Even when you were down in the dumps, when you thought you didn’t deserve it, Simon said it then, too. 
-
“But, Simon, I just—” you’d sobbed, struggling to gather your words. 
You’d been on edge all night, brain reeling with the sheer number of tasks you had to complete. And when you’d come home to see Simon packing his bags, preparing to leave on deployment the next morning, you’d finally crumbled. He’d raced to your side, bags all but forgotten.
In that moment, everything had fallen away. The tasks, the assignments, the hopes, the dreams—they all washed away. And for a single blessed moment, you were just you, and he was just him. You’d fallen into his arms just beyond the threshold, the tears finally falling. And without speaking a single word, he came to your rescue.
He’d guided you with hands on your shoulders, pushing you down onto the couch. He’d come to his knees in front of you, wiping away each and every tear with his thumb.
“Tell me what’s wrong, love,” he’d ordered, softly, “What’s happened? What do you need?”
“Simon, I—I…” you’d sniffled, kneeling over to bury your face in the crook of this shoulder and neck. 
But instead of freezing up, he’d only cradled the back of your neck, letting his shirt soak up your tears. Without a word, he’d circled his arms around your waist, pulling you into his lap. And you went willingly, body wracking with sobs while he stroked over your thighs and waist, letting you emotions dissolve under the weight of his scent and presence.
“S’okay, love, I’ve got you now,” he’d whispered, “I’ll make it better. Tell me what’s wrong, ’n I’ll make it right.”
Your voice had been muffled against the fabric of his shirt. And although you felt small and embarrassed, a crying puddle in his arms, your body was too exhausted to do anything more than cling to his frame as though he’d disappear if you let him go.
“You promise?” You’d managed, voice hitching.
“Promise,” he’d answered without hesitation, “Let me see you, love. C’mere.”
When his hand hooked under your chin, lifting your face into the light, you’re useless to fight against him. Tried and empty, you let him look upon you, let him cradle your jaw in this hand and take you in his hand—at his mercy.
“What is it, baby?” He’d asked, meeting your eye, “Hard day at work?”
Your voice was so choked with tears you couldn’t open your mouth. No, you’d nodded, furiously wiping tears away from your eyes. However, before you can lift your hand, he’d grabbed both of your wrists, effortlessly pinning them between your body. You don’t struggle against him. Not like you could, anyway.
“Yeah?” He’d cooed, cupping your cheek to swipe another tear away, “Little stressed, are you?”
“Yeah,” you’d sobbed, “There’s just—just so much to do—”
“What else, baby? Anythin’ else that hurts, right now?”
“No, it’s just—” you’d rocked on top of his thighs, melting down in his arms.
Your tense, fidgeting hands go limp where he holds your wrists together, body stilling as you look down at his calm face. When you were like this—a broken mess—Simon somehow managed to be the eye of the storm, just as clear and calm as he always was. That’s what made him such a good solider, you’d imagined.
“Just…” your breath hitched, and you took a deep breath, “Just—don’t wanna think anymore…”
“That it?” He’d leaned in then, so close you could smell the cologne on his skin, “Got too much in that pretty little head?”
Distraught, your mind doesn’t register the small quip. But something in your body—something in your core—yearned to be closer to him, to press yourself into him, until you couldn’t decipher where he ended and you began. And before you could question it, you’d collapsed against his chest, wrists pinned against your breasts.
“Yes,” you’d sobbed miserably.
And in that moment, unconsciously, you’d given yourself over to him completely, the world boiling down to nothing more than his strong arms and sweet voice. 
“Love,” he’d let go of your wrists, and yet, you hadn’t moved them an inch, “Look at me.”
Before you could even do it, Simon hooked his finger beneath your chin, raising your teary face to look him in the eye. Even with your raw, reddened vision, he sees you there, and meets you word for word.
“There she is,” he’d carefully swiped at your eyes, “Take a deep breath for me, love.”
Mindlessly, you’d done as he said, a simmering familiarity bleeding into your veins at the unspoken dominance. 
“Good,” he’d pulled you closer, never once letting his eyes drop, “Now, you’re gonna sit there and listen to me for a minute, yeah?”
Without an ounce of hesitation, you’d snapped your mouth shut, hands shaking against his chest.
“You’re not gonna think anymore. Not tonight. Not with me,” he commands lowly, “I’ve got you now, and you don’t have to worry about a thing. ‘Cause I’ll take care of it. All of it. And if you so much as mention that blasted assignment again, so help me god, I’ll have you over my knee before you can so much as tell me to stop. That clear?”
Usually, the firm set of his voice and the rigidity of the order would have irked you. But in that moment, vulnerable and wet with tears, it feels more like bandaid than a ball and chain. 
“Answer me.”
“Mm-hmm,” you’d hummed, chest rapidly expanding against his own.
“Good,” he’d inhaled, “Now…”
He’d reached for your wrists again, and limply, you let him situate your arms around his neck. 
“Hold me like this,” he’d told you, cradling your waistline, “And you’re gonna sit with me awhile, okay? Until you feel a bit better, love.”
“Simon,” you’d melted into his arms, letting him hold you like the fragile thing you’d always known you were. And he’d accepted you, even when you were a teary mess, unable to even breathe for yourself.
“Shush. No talking,” he’d guided you, “Just let me take care of you. Just for tonight.”
And yet, when you’d felt his stubble against your wet cheek, honeyed words drifting into your ear, you somehow find yourself mourning the time. That this would only last a night. That in the morning, you’d have to find your footing again, all by yourself.
But like that, with Simon’s beating heart against your own and his voice in your head, it felt like the moment could continue on forever, whether he was halfway across the world or sitting right next to you. And at the idea of it—at the prospect that his memory will linger long after he’s gone—you’d found yourself in awe of all that he was…of all that he made you feel.
“Simon,” you’d asked, wholly undone, “Can you…”
“Can I what?”
“Can you…” you’d sniffled, pulling away to face him, “Will you kiss me?”
His expression hadn’t moved an inch, just as calm, careful, and collected as it was before. And in that moment, you truly hadn’t known what you’d felt. Only that you’d needed him in his entirety, just as he had you now.
“Take what’s yours, love,” he’d whispered, straightening his neck just to graze his lips over yours.
And without even dwelling on how scrambled you’d felt, you’d reached for his face with a fervor, pulling you into him with every ounce of the warring desperation you felt inside. The instant his lips met yours, sharp stubble scrapping over your raw skin, the incessant noise halts all at once. 
And before long, the tears have dried up. Your mind is blank, all but empty. Your fingers claw at him with a hunger you’d never experienced before, with a need you didn’t even knew you had.
A need he’d let simmer for much too long. One that only he could sate. One that could only be cured with his touch, his lips, and his tongue. And when his hands curve over your waistline, groping at your ass to pull you up against the quickly forming bulge at the front of his jeans, you’re nothing short of distraught when he presses between your legs.
Helplessly, you cling to him, kissing him as if he was the air you needed to breathe. And as the seconds pass, so does the stress. It bleeds out of you like plasma, staining the air with each gasping breath you take.
“Simon,” you inhale, pulling back. Strings of saliva hang between his lips and yours, and just like your eyes, you find your tongue swollen. Without a doubt, you looked just as bad as you felt, and yet, something inside of you had taken control.
That feeling deep in your stomach, the pulsing between your legs. He can feel you there, your heartbeat right up against your covered pussy, pulsing against the fly of his jeans. Artlessly, your hips move against his own, and despite the nagging need in his mind to quell all the stormy thoughts that race inside that little head, he can’t help but marvel at how he’d got you.
Out of control.
Mindless.
Grasping at his shirt like it was your last tether to this earth, focused on nothing but the wetness between your thighs, and the promise of what would make it better.
Him.
His cock.
His lips.
His love. 
His praise, care, and commands.
So when you rock forward once again, clit brushing against the button on his jeans, you’re helpless to do anything more than drown in pure, utter submission when he pulls you off of his lap and bends you over the arm of the couch.
“Fuck, love,” he grunts, hands clenching around your hips while he grinds against the cleft of your ass.
“Simon,” you practically sob, desperately trying to rock your ass back against him, if only to make the aching between your legs feel even the slightest bit better.
“No,” he gropes at your asscheek, pulling your pants over your thighs to expose your soaked panties and throbbing cunt, “No more whining, baby.”
He leans back, and you swear you feel your body falling apart when he pulls away. However, before you can moan at the loss, you feel his fingers ghost over your pussy, pressing into the dribbles of slick that leak through the threads of the fabric.
“Feel me here, love,” he breathes, watching your ass rock back against his hand when he thumbs over your clit, “This where it hurts? Huh?”
Your body collapses against the cousins of the sofa with a sharp whine, and unbidden, tears begin to slide down your cheeks at the feeling.
God, it just feels so good. So good to let go. To let him make all the decisions. To let him play with you like you were a doll, a toy who couldn’t make her own choices or speak for herself. A girl ho didn’t even know that she had needs only a man like him could fix.
“Tell me. Now.” He commands, delivering a sharp slap over your ass. 
“Yes,” you blurt out.
“Yes what?”
“It hurts—hurts there…”
“Mm,” he hums, and you hear the fabric of his jeans move when he reaches for his belt, “Figures. Haven’t been taking care of yourself, have you?”
“Simon, p-please,” you plead helplessly, and when the bare skin of his cock meets the fabric of your panties, you can’t hide the flood of tears that pools on the leather seat underneath your cheek.
“Shh, baby,” he leans over you, strong chest like an impenetrable wall against your back, “Don’t cry. I’ve got you now. I know what you need.”
“Please,” you whine, reaching back to grapple uselessly at his hips—like that would make him hurry up. And yet, he only swats your hands away, effortlessly pinning them against the leather with nothing more than a single move. With his offhand, he pulls the panties to the side, looking down at your leaking, swollen pussy. It’s so pent up you’ve already got slick on the inside of your thighs.
Needy girl.
“Fuck, baby, look at that. God, you’re fucking soaked,” he parts your sensitive folds with a single fingertip, looking at where dribbles of slick coat his pointer finger and thumb. You’re so wet that even his longer, thicker finger slides into you without resistance, eliciting a squeaking moan from your tired vocal cords.
“Tell me, baby,” he thrusts gently, watching at your nerves tense and relax with every move, “When’s the last time you touched yourself?”
At the question, you can’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed. You don’t even question it, why your boyfriend might need to know that, like it weren’t a deeply personal question. And yet, when he says it like that—like he’d make it all better with a single touch—your mind doesn’t even think to question it when you relent your autonomy to him with nothing more than a single sentence.
“I…” you mewl, pushing your pussy back onto his fingers like a cat in heat, barely able to find your words through the force of the delicious fullness between your legs, “The—the last time you touched me…”
“Fuck,” he grunts, smacking your ass once more. It’s harder this time, hard enough to leave a red handprint against your ass. And yet, even if you flinch, you don’t let his fingers fall out of you just yet. No, if anything, you only rock against them harder, lost in the waves of tears and pleasure that fill you from the inside out.
“No wonder you’re so goddamn needy,” he rubs against that spongy spot inside of you, watching as strings of slick fall from your pussy onto the couch cushions below, “Haven’t been fucked in a week. Don’t even know how to take care of yourself. God, baby…Will you even be able to make it through deployment without me, love?”
“Si—Simon, I—I can’t do this without you,” you sob, arms hanging limply over the arm of the couch.
“I know, baby,” he gently pulls his fingers away, flattening his stomach against your back before you can even think to whine out in protest. Like that, he circles your stomach with one arm, lifting his shining fingers to your lips. All it takes is a single brush of his slick thumb against your lower lip to get you to open up and let him push them into your mouth, quieting your thoughts with a single word.
“Suck.”
Thoughtlessly, you suckle on his fingers, the taste of your slick on your own tongue. Tears stain his hand with every move, but the way he holds you, the way he grinds his bare cock against your wet folds, clears your head all at once. 
“Need to do something about that,” he laments, swiveling his hips just enough to notch the tip of his cock up against your hole, “Might have to buy you something over deployment. Something that’ll fill up this needy cunt while I’m gone. Yeah? That what you need, baby? Need something to fuck yourself stupid with while I’m gone?”
Moaning around his fingers, you nod your head yes, desperately grinding down against the tip of his prick. And when he pushes just the slightest bit forward, nothing more than a single inch of his dick filling you up, you can’t help the way you sob against the arm of the couch. 
“Tell me, baby,” he whispers, slowly sliding into you, “Is this what you need? Need my cock?”
He pulls his fingers out of you, harshly grabbing you around the jaw to make you face him. His fingers are wet with spit and slick, and the hunger in his eyes is so ravenous it nearly devours you then and there. But all the voices—all the protests, tears, and worries—are muffled under the weight of his body and touch. And before you can mourn the independent woman you swear you were, you find yourself desperately arching your back underneath him, sinking down onto his cock so fast it pulls the air out of his lungs altogether.
“Need you, Simon,” you cry, beginning to fuck yourself on his cock when he won’t do it himself.
However, at your little fit of helplessness, he stills you with a hard grip around your hips, pushing into you once again to keep you in place.
“Shh, baby, I know,” he coos, slowly fucking into your cunt, “I’ll give you what you need. Don’t gotta think anymore. Just need to let it happen. Need to let me have you.”
-
Images of that night run circles around his mind, and before he can even register the passing time, thirty minutes had passed into the TV show he’d halfheartedly put on. Your echoing voice ringing in his ears, he shocks back to reality, and dumbly, he lets his hand fall to the couch, TV remote all but forgotten.
His ears are wholly attuned to the sound of your typing, and with every keystroke, his anger only climbs higher and higher—until sitting on the couch, ignoring the way you’re hurting yourself, turns into a burning, fiery rage.
With a grunt, he stands, storming over to your open door. Determined, he pushes open the door, coming to stand behind you in your office chair. You’re so focused on the paper you hardly notice him. 
That is, until his larger hand covers yours, stopping you halfway to the mouse. Surprised, you glance behind you, pointlessly trying to fight against him.
“Simon,” you say, gasping when he pulls the chair away from the desk, “What are you—”
“Turn the computer off, love. It’s done.”
“But—but the final page—”
“Is perfect,” he grunts, hauling you to your feet, “Now, c’mon. You need a break.”
“But this is the last assignment!” You cry, shoving against him to try and get back to the computer, “If it’s not perfect, then I won’t graduate—”
“Love,” he yanks you back by the wrist, grabbing you around the jaw, “Look at me.”
Frazzled, you go limp in his hold, blinking up at him confusedly.
“You are the smartest person I know,” he explains tersely, “And one day, you’ll have some big, important job, and you’ll be sitting on piles of cash. And trust me when I say that I would love for nothing more than to sit at home and be your house husband. But,” he growls, yanking your hand down to press into the growing bulge at the front of his jeans. Your eyes widen when you feel how hard he is, “I’ve waited three months to have you. Three. Fucking. Months. And I know for a fact you haven’t been using that little toy I bought you.”
“Simon,” you flush, unable to meet his eye, “I—I have been using it, I’ve just been busy—”
“Love,” he warns, cocking his head, “Look me in the eye and say that again.”
You swallow, barely managing to lift your gaze. However, when you open your mouth to speak, no words come out. And just like that, he’s got you.
He grinds his jaw, rolling his eyes, “Fucking knew it.”
Before you can even register what’s happening, he’s ducking down. Without warning, he lifts you up, hoisting you over his shoulder with barely more than a single arm. You gasp when you’re lifted off your feet, scrabbling uselessly at his back when he begins to walk towards your bedroom.
“But—” you whine, watching the floorboards slowly transition to carpet down the hallway, “I—I have been using it, I swear! I took it out of the packaging and everything—”
Your words grind to a halt when he slaps you on the ass, hard enough for the sound to ring in your eyes. His fingers dig into the fat of your thighs, and helplessly, you dangle over his shoulder.
“Lie to me again,” he grunts, groping at your ass cheek to prepare you for another spank, “And I’ll just hit you harder.”
At that, you have nothing more to say than a singular whine, one that sounds so out of character against the stark Times New Roman of that blasted essay.
“Now,” Simon says, pushing open the door of your bed room, “You gonna be a good girl? Gonna shut up and let me fuck you? Gonna let me take care of you?”
For a split second, your eyes stare down the hallway at where the blue light of your laptop illuminates the office walls. And a part of you screams to push at him until he lets you go, until he lets you run back to all your responsibilities and work.
And yet, the longer you stare down that buzzing, blue cloud, the more you come to understand the simple truth of who Simon is: if you fought back, he’d only spank you harder, fuck you faster, and nag at you longer.
After all, that’s the only way he could get you to take care of yourself, diploma be damned. 
“Yes,” you relent with a mewl, going limp in his arms. And as he kicks the bedroom door closed behind him, the feeling of your head going empty is punctuated only by two, simple words. 
“Good girl.”
-
Notes: thank you so much for the request!! AO3 version will be posted soon with notes!! ❤️
717 notes · View notes
sandwhitches · 4 months ago
Note
hii! can i have a cherry popsicle abt suna confessing to the reader but he’s super nervous?? thanks so much! feel free to request smth from me if you’d like to do a little exchange:)
a/n: u must be a mind reader because i’ve LITERALLY been working on this exact prompt omg!!! it’s longer than a drabble (lowkey really long so i just formatted it like a fic☠️) because i already had most of it written when u requested so enjoy :3!! also u BET im gonna send u a request yay!!!
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𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 (𝐟𝐭. 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨)
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desc: suna is an idiot and seeks the help of an unlikely (and annoying, in his humble opinion) ally to help him confess to you
content: fem. reader, language, suna’s little sister guest star!!!!! (i love that he canonically has a little sister; she’s like middle school age in this ughhhh suna as a big brother makes me want to combust), suna pining for you like a big stupid idiot
wc: 1.5k
this is a part of my summer writing event!!! please feel free to send some requests my way :3
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Suna Rintaro knows two things for certain: firstly, he’s absolutely in love with you, and secondly, he hasn’t a clue what to do about it. It was easier for him to come to terms with the latter, seeing as he’d spent most of his teenage years rolling his eyes at mushy displays of affection and taking the piss out of his friends who seemed to have traded all necessary brain function in exchange for falling in love. 
To him, falling in love this early on in life was as worthless and cheap as the chocolate he watched be gifted every Valentines Day; eventually, they’ll eat what they like and throw what they don’t in the trash, he’s seen it done countless times before, and he’d be stupid to let something like that happen to him. 
Still, here he is, knee-deep and sinking even deeper as the moments go by, he thinks falling in love might be like being pushed into quicksand. As odd as it is for him to admit it to himself, he doesn’t mind it at all.
There’s a certain giddiness that can’t be awarded any time other than when you talk to him. He spends the rest of the afternoon and evening thinking about your conversations, wondering if he said something wrong, thinking of all the ways he could have prolonged the exchange, and smiling fondly when he remembers he managed to make you laugh three times (a new record for him).
“What’s with that face?” Atsumu had interrupted Suna during one of the breaks at volleyball practice, his idiotic grin on full display in Rintaro’s face. Had he really been smiling just from thinking about you?
Suna had mumbled something that sounded like an awkward mixture of shut up and fuck off, quick to storm away in hopes that Atsumu didn’t catch the violent reddening of his cheeks. This is not good, he thinks, love can’t really be this hard to ignore, can it?
He’s put up a hard battle against this exact scenario, and he’s afraid you might have unknowingly thrown a wrench right into his fine tuned machine of a brain. If this really was a battle, he’s fine raising a white flag in order to get to make you laugh more often, for the slight possibility of getting to know if your lips really feel as soft as they appear, and the hope that one day he might forget all about what it was like not to be entirely in love with you. 
This is the nail in the coffin, his final surrender. Being in love really must make people stupid, because he’s nervously tugging his collar as he knocks on his younger sister's door. She chirps a surprised “Come in!” and Rintaro struggles to actually reach for the door, consumed with the reality of the fact that this really is where he’s ended up in his life. Great.
His sister gives him an incredulous look when she realizes it had been him who knocked, eyeing him suspiciously, “What do you want?” She mumbles in confusion, setting her pencil down. Suna parts his lips, mouth running dry, then sighs loudly, shaking his head. 
“What is it?” She inquires, sudden agitation laced in her tone. Rintaro looks at the ground, too embarrassed to see the inevitable shift in her expression when he asks, “What’s the right way to ask out a girl?” 
A silence follows that isn’t long enough in Suna’s opinion, quickly cut off by a loud bark of laughter, “No way! You’re asking me for advice?” 
Here’s another thing Suna Rintaro knew for certain, there’s no word that describes the extent in which his younger sister is the bane of his existence. 
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Suna mutters self-consciously. This probably was a bad idea in theory, but as much as it pains him to admit it, this is his last resort. He knows next to nothing about how to be normal about talking to you, let alone confess; something is better than nothing in this situation, and he swears to himself that he will make sure he never has to ask his sister for advice like this again. 
Love, when it comes to you, has to be a one and done thing. He’s sincerely praying to whoever is watching over him that he never has to feel the terror of confessing to anyone else again. It just has to be you. 
That’s why he’s here, standing about as stiff as a marble statue as he pushes a shaky finger to your doorbell, drawing his hand back swiftly as if it burned him. In a spurt of unexplainable confidence, Suna had asked if you wanted to hang out on Saturday, conveniently leaving out the part where he desperately wished for it to be more than just a hang out.
Earlier that morning, he’d been so close to chickening out that his sister, of all people, angrily dragged him to the nearest grocery store with a scowl.
 “Don’t get her roses, it’s way too soon for that kind of flower!” She snapped, swatting Suna’s hand away from the bouquet.
“Daisies? Seriously? Are you a serious?”
It would be an utter lie if Suna did not admit that he had no idea what his sister was talking about. If love really is this complex, maybe he’s not the right person for it. Still, he finds himself lingering on the face you make when you laugh, the way you’re the first person that he never got sick of texting into the early hours of the morning, and how you’re the only person that could ever make him reconsider that puppy love and crushes might mean something more than he’d given them credit for.
After all, the way he felt for you is what people call love, isn’t it?
Suna grips the assorted bouquet of colorful flowers that his sister had deemed good enough, listening to the sound of your front door clicking open. He’s doomed, this is a bad idea, and yet it’s the only thing he wants to do. 
How’d you get to be so beautiful? Suna wonders that a lot, in fact, it makes him angry that you’d just waltzed into his life like you did. It’s absolutely unfair, he was a dead man before he could even put up a fight. Falling in love with you was unavoidable from the beginning, but he seems to be just okay with that. 
“Oh!” Your eyes go wide, nonplussed by the bouquet in his hands, “Flowers for me?” You snicker, your laughter is probably the worst thing that could possibly happen right now, it makes everything ten times harder to do.
“Yeah, um-” Rintaro sputters, nervously darting his eyes around for the answer to your question. He knew the answer. You knew the answer.
Hastily, he holds it out for you to take, which you do without hesitation, “What’s the occasion?” 
Suna Rintaro knows two more things for certain: firstly, he’ll die if he doesn’t tell you how he feels, and secondly, you’re smart enough to have already surmised exactly what the occasion is. 
Everything his sister told him, advisories of “That’s too creepy!” and “Don’t be so blunt about it!” all fly to the back of his mind in exchange for the only things he can really manage to say. 
“Well,” Suna starts, cringing at the way his voice cracks, he knows this is about to be the world’s worst confession. 
“I, um, I got these for you because I think you’re really pretty,” you watch in bewilderment as his cheeks gradually saturate into a bright red, “but, that’s not just it!” Suna blurts, “You’re also really smart, and funny, and you’re probably the only person I could sit and talk to for hours without getting annoyed by-” Now, Suna is blatantly breaking the third piece of advice his sister had given him, don’t ramble.
“And, I really look forward to talking to you, even if it’s about boring stuff, I still want to hear you talk all day. Which, saying that out loud is really embarrassing for me, but, not because I’m embarrassed of you, I’m just embarrassed that I’m so-”
“Suna-” you interrupt, the cellophane wrap of the bouquet you held crackles as you lower it to see him better. You watch, partially in amusement, while the boy across from you struggles to comprehend everything he just said. 
Suna is done for when it comes to you, this was priorly understood, so why is it so hard to put it into words if it’s all he ever thinks about? “I like you a lot…is that okay?” He finally sighs, pale green eyes flickering up to search for a silent answer in the faltering of your expression. 
“That’s okay.” You nod, dumbfounded by the sudden declaration, each word was spoken with more confidence than anything you’ve ever heard him say before.
“Cool.” Suna nods dumbly.
“Cool.”
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ceilidho · 1 year ago
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prompt: IKEA soap/reader fic. PART 1. tags: dubcon
-
You duck behind a stack of boxes when you hear Johnny come whistling into the warehouse.
He shouts your name out somewhere off on the other side of the warehouse, voice echoing through the building. You keep absolutely still, fingers clamped around the clipboard that’s pressed close to your chest. Even your breathing slows, open-mouthed so as to keep it almost soundless. It’s strategic. You’ve gotten good at making yourself invisible back here, practically melting into the stack of boxes. 
A minute or two goes by with repeated calls of your name, echoing from different parts of the warehouse like Johnny’s making the rounds. Searching for you. He’s probably been looking around the store for ages, with his track record. Someone must have let it slip that you were assigned to inventory today instead of being out on the floor. 
You only let out a sigh when it’s been long enough that any reasonable person might have given up on trying to find you in the loading dock.
“Hiding from someone?” a deep voice asks from behind you.
Your gut all but self-ejects. When you turn around, he’s standing there in the same bright blue shirt that you also wear. His is stretched tight across his chest though, like it’s a size too small. You wonder sometimes if it’s on purpose. It’s hard not to let your eyes wander, but by now you’ve trained yourself to keep your eyes level when speaking to Johnny. 
“Nope,” you squeak. “Just…you know…counting. Counting boxes and…stacks.”
He laughs, loud enough to make you startle. It’s far too enthusiastic, like you told a particularly funny joke instead of stumbling over your words and you still don’t actually know if he finds you funny or not. 
“Cool,” Johnny says, taking a step closer to you. The clipboard doesn’t feel sufficient enough to put any real distance between the two of you. “Thought I could maybe come hang out with ye back here. Dinnae want ye to feel lonely.”
“Nope, not lonely at all. Totally peachy. Actually glad I could catch a break from…everyone.” You take a step back.
He follows you, another step forward. “Aye, dinnae worry, I get what ye mean. Some of the others—” he whistles, “—right buggers. Glad to catch a break myself as well.”
A bead of sweat rolls down the back of your neck. “Aren’t you supposed to be…out in the front? I, uh, don’t want you to get in trouble with Jeff—”
“Ah, Jeff’s fine, kitty, dinnae worry about me,” Johnny coos, sounding pleased as punch. He takes you at face value instead of reading into the set of your jaw and the way you keep inching away from him as he gets closer to you, convinced that you genuinely in your heart care about whether he gets written up or not. “They fuckin’ love me, ye ken? Think he wants ta take me out for lunch tomorrow, but told him I’d only go if he invited ye as well.”
“Oh. That’s nice,” you whisper instead of screaming. You’re doing that a lot these days. Talking through the scream bubbling behind your front teeth. 
“Would ye want ta then?” he asks, suddenly in your face, three quick steps bridging the gap between you in barely a second, hardly enough time for you to blink. You blink and it’s just Johnny, in startling definition. Thick eyebrows and scar across his chin, the bridge of his nose perfect like he’s never broken it before. “Grab some lunch with me?”
“I, uh…I brought my lunch from home.”
“It’s a’right, I’ll buy it for ye, hen. Dinnae need ta waste your money.” Sometimes when he talks to you, he gets like this, fervent and almost desperate. He seems only half aware of it. “Ye like that mediterranean place nearby, right? Seen ye go there once or twice; wanted ta tag along, but dinnae want ta alarm ye.”
“You saw me go there?” you repeat. 
“Aye, happened ta glance out the window when ye were on your lunch break. Back before management changed my break time. Cheers for that as well because it was really startin’ ta bother me, ye ken? Not being able ta eat with my favourite coworker.” 
You never know how to respond when Johnny lets on a bit too much about how he feels about you. Sometimes he slips up and it comes rushing out, a big spool of thread unwinding in front of you.  
“Yeah, well…I don’t know about today but maybe…” you say, trailing off. There’s a danger in just brushing him off, you feel. 
“Tomorrow then,” he decides, grin still splitting his face. “I’m no’ on the schedule, but I can drop by at your lunch break and go with ye. How’s that sound?”
“Well, you know…it sounds…” He’s close enough now that if you lean forward, you’ll faceplant in between his pecs. Despite everything, you have to slightly fight the urge. Sometimes you think it’d be easier if he weren’t so absurdly gorgeous. It doesn’t make any of his actions okay, it doesn’t excuse his behaviour just because he’s pretty, yet still he pulls you in somehow, magnetic. “It sounds—you know, actually, I think Jeff wanted to talk to me about something, so if you don’t mind—”
Johnny tries to say something, but you manage to duck around him and scurry off, disappearing into the stacks of boxes before pressing forward until you burst out the main doors out of the warehouse. It leads to a hall that goes towards the store, but you haul it to the women’s washroom instead. The one place he can’t follow you inside. 
In the washroom, you can finally breathe. Resting your hands on either side of the sink, you look into the mirror where haggard eyes with deep circles underneath stare back at you. 
You flinch when one of the toilets flush and the stall door opens, another coworker stepping out. 
“Did I hear Johnny outside?” she asks, taking the sink beside you to wash her hands. You nod, still tongue tied. “He really follows you everywhere, huh?”
For a second, your shoulders relax. “God, I know, he’s always just hovering—”
She cuts you off, sighing dreamily. “You’re so lucky. He’s so hot, it’s unreal. I can’t believe he works here, like that’s insane. I’d kill to have him as obsessed with me as he is with you.”
“He’s—he’s not into me, he’s just…you know, he just hovers.”
The water shuts off. Your coworker shoots you a dubious look, almost mocking. “Yeah, alright. Sure. Not into you. Not like he hangs off your every word. You don’t have to be humble—we’re already jealous. It’s like rubbing it in when you pretend like it’s totally normal.”
You slump, defeated, when she leaves without drying her hands. It’s moot to try and commiserate with anyone. They don’t see him the way you do, not for who he is. Your coworkers love Johnny; you’ve seen someone genuinely fistpump after being scheduled with him. 
They don’t see any of the weird shit though. They don’t see the way he insists on walking you to your car well into the evening after a closing shift together. They don’t notice the way Johnny laughs a little too hard and with too much vigour when someone calls him your shadow, his eyes just a little too bright and fervent. 
They’re never around to see him ask if you want to sit on his lap while he shows you how to use the forklift in the backroom. They’ve never seen him beg management to let him take his breaks with you and doesn't let you have a moment of peace, just sits with you in the breakroom or follows you to your car when you say that you're going out for lunch. 
Sometimes you look at him and think, this guy should not be in the Appliance section of a big box store. Johnny should be on the front cover of magazines, in commercials for toothpaste, acting in Hallmark movies, or maybe hand modelling for obscenely ornate watch companies that cost the equivalent of a mortgage—not handing out free samples of sliced cheese.
That was then.
It starts like this: an overeager sales associate who butts his way to the front of the line on your first day. 
You think at first that you’re golden. It seems like a sweet deal—an easy enough job, maybe not what you went to school for, but still something to pass the time and not too backbreaking. Plus, the guy shaking your hand and chatting up a storm in front of you is making you melt inside. He’s easy on the eyes—all bright smiles, effortless charm, either just brushing or exactly six feet, and built. Broad shouldered and lean. 
Johnny’s a model employee as well—knows the handbook inside and out, and shows you the ropes on your first day along with the assistant manager giving you a tour of the store, which is helpful because there’s at least three floors that you could easily get lost on. He walks elderly customers to their cars with their bags, shows up to work early for every shift, always with a smile and a positive attitude, and you find out early on that management loves him because of his frankly incredible sales record. 
(And you get it too; you can’t imagine anyone looking into those gorgeous blue eyes and turning him down.)
He's also a spokesperson for the company in all of their internal training videos because he was hired through some “Jobs for Vets” program that they just rolled out. The guy can also stack things on a shelf like no one's business, products lined up with military precision (hence the ex-military status). 
All in all, you can’t help feeling like for once in your life, you didn’t draw the short stick. 
Then one day, you’re alone with Johnny in the breakroom early in the morning before the store has opened yet and he turns to you with a wide, boyish grin and says apropos of nothing, “Named my fleshlight after you.”
You think your brain skips a couple tracks like a record player. You rewind and replay what was just said to you. There’s no two ways about it—you must have misheard him. Of course you did because surely your coworker of two months didn’t just look you in the eyes and say with a sweet sunshine smile that he named his sex toy after you. 
He doesn’t laugh, just stands there and smiles while stirring sugar into his coffee. He takes it black. You take note of that because the brain still has to work when the mind shuts down momentarily, so you use it instead to catalogue things around the breakroom. One of the motivational posters hanging near the door is hung a bit off-centre. The fluorescent lightbulb on the far side of the room is dimmer than the others. Johnny’s eyes have a little light spot in them like the tip of an ocean wave.
“Excuse me?” you ask, dumbfounded. Your voice sounds hollow even to you.
“I named her after ye,” he repeats, not a trace of shame in his voice. “Used ta not have a name at all, but figured since I say it so much when I’m enjoyin’ her, she might as well share it with ya.” 
He stares at you after saying that, letting it hang in the air. Your brain chooses that moment to come back online and all it can do is load that image of Johnny home alone with his fleshlight, toes curled in his sheets and the muscles of his legs straining as he moans your name. All you can do is give a little awkward laugh, growing more uncomfortable by the second the longer he stares at you without blinking. 
Then, something passes over his eyes and suddenly he's back to normal, laughing and clapping you on the arm before wandering off to the men's apparel section. 
It leaves you reeling for the rest of the day, sure you imagined it. It recontextualizes a few things for you though. He’s always been on the handsy side, verging on inappropriate, but skirting just enough around the edges of it that you usually brush off Johnny’s weird behaviour. Chalk it up to annoying little brotherly tendencies. You know he has a few older sisters anyway; you figured it was just how he related to women in his environment.
Not so. 
It escalates after that initial escalation. Not that things started off on an appropriate note, but at least before you could rationalize most of his quirks.
Now it’s this: his hand on your lower back during work hours when you’re busy helping a customer and he sidles up next to you, pinkie brushing so low on your back that you worry for a second that he might slip it down the back of your pants. Lifting you up by the hips whenever you have a hard time reaching something on a shelf instead of just reaching up and grabbing it for you. A complete misuse of his height. He digs his fingers into your sides and never lets you go right away when he puts you down. 
“Aw shit, bonnie,” he coos when you complain about it hurting you. “Dinnae mean ta hurt ye. Want me to give ye a little massage in the breakroom?” 
You learn quickly that there’s no point in complaining about his behaviour to anyone. You can't complain to any of your coworkers because the second you so much as criticize his work, they bark at you to be nice to him. He's just re-acclimating to civilian life, of course he's not perfect at his job yet, they say. They defend him almost viciously; the real jealous ones even tell on you in front of him, leaving you to stand there embarrassed and on the spot until Johnny just smiles and says that it's alright. That you'll just have to teach him better. 
There’s not much you can do besides grin and bear it. You can hope one day that you'll get transferred; you don't have much hope for him being transferred. Not with how endeared he is to management.
When you finally open the door, ready to leave the bathroom and get back to work, you nearly scream when Johnny lurches off the wall across from the bathroom door where he’s been leaning. Waiting for you.
“C’mon, hen,” he says, all teeth. “Lemme walk ye back ta work.”
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styxwanderer · 5 months ago
Note
Hey you can ignore this if you don’t want to answer that. This is an idea to a reaction for the Twst cast to Yuu/Reader being mad at Crowley.
But IMAGINE Yuu/Reader getting told by Crowley that they can’t actually return to their own world because either it wasn’t possible to begin with or had some kind of time limit to which they could return home. And what if Crowley knew for a long time and just didn’t tell Yuu for whatever reason. Now they are so mad and want to commit arson.
I, at least, would ask Ortho, Epel or Floyd to help me empty out Crowleys office and pile it up outside making a big bonfire. (I wold make copies of all his Documents, (I’m not that cruel) I would just hide them to see the look on his face) I would also add things like magnesium, sulfate and other tings to make pretty colored flames.
I love your writing style and I hope you could write your ideas about this.
NRC Tales: No Way Home |
〖Twisted wonderland〗
Dear Neufra darling, I love that brain of yours. i want to kiss it! Sorry it took a while, my brain just kept on generating new ideas for this prompt. I hope you enjoy this fic.
•´¨*•.¸¸.•*´¨•.¸¸.•♪♫•¨•.¸¸❤¸¸.•¨•♫♪ •´¨*•.¸¸.•*´¨•.¸¸.•
“HOW COULD YOU?!” You screamed at the face of the old crow. All respect and calm demeanor to the side. 
“N-Now now..” Crowley was taken aback at your outburst. He  would have never expected these reaction coming from you, the usually calm and nice you. Yet here you are, vein threatened to burst out of your skin.
Why had this happened? 
It is simple.. 
You had discovered that this bastard of a headmage of yours could’ve actually send you back home a month ago, but since he missed the exact timing and all, he decided to cover up his mistake hoping no one would noticed. 
You went to report the headmaster of the progress you made and clues you have regarding a passage for you to went back, yet the crow was not in his office. 
Then you discovered the letter and a piece of paper explaining how the passage mirror works in regard to traveling through dimensions. The next possible time for a dimension travel is approximately 1000 year after the last one. This enough had make your heart clenched. You noticed the date written for the next possible time for dimension travel is a month ago.
Everything was blank for you, “no.. its cant be.. no no no..” 1000 year?! Is this a joke? Human can’t even live past 200. You ears ring as you have difficulty to breathe air. 
Admist of your panic the door turn revealing Dire Crowley. 
“Oh! You surprised me! You should’ve waited outside if i am not in the office .. well? Are you alright?.”
“You… am i alright?” You scoffed. As it clicked to you, the paper was in crowley desk, He knew, he knew but choses not to tell you anything, he knew but chose to pretend and leave you with your meaningless tedious investigation.
“What’s the matter?” 
“How could you…”
“Sorry?”
“HOW COULD YOU!!” You screamed pointing at the paper, you felt blood rushing up your head as tears build up your eyes, you can never see your parents again. Your siblings, your beloved pet, your friends. ‘I am now truly as good as dead to them.’ 
“A—ah.. now.. now..” 
“NOW WHAT?! I can’t.. i can never see my family… why? I can’t… HOW COULD YOU!” myriad of emotions blast through your nerves, but most of all the pain in your heart. You can’t breathe. If you can’t breathe then might as well scream. 
“YOU KNEW. YOU KNEW ABOUT THE DATE! WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME? Why?! “ you could feel your salty tears rushing down your face.
“I am sorry.. but..” Crowley was taken aback by your outburst. Sure he felt guilty but at the same time, he couldn’t reverse time. 
“It was in your desk.. it was in your desk all along. The solution.” You vision has now blurred its view. You tried to wipe it but it kept flowing.
“I am sorry.. there is nothing i could do.. on the plus side, you have a new family now in twisted wonderland you see, new friends too, so don’t feel so disheartened.”
You could not believe your ears. You lift your face from your hand as you stare at his smiling face.
I want to punch that.
“ARGHHHHHH” You grab the nearest lamp stand as you pulled it off the switch as you lunged to this bastard. 
“AAAAAA!!” The crow screamed
‘BOOM!’
‘Crashhh!’
Your body was hurled into the desk by an explosion, landing you to the inside of the desk. Everything ache, you felt that you might have cracked or broken a bone, but you are too numb to notice.
“Headmage!” The door slammed open as the red haired man walked in as he rushed towards Crowley side.
“What happened here? We heard shouting.” The man in a fancy business suit follow in tow.
“Somebody finally have enough of your shit huh old man.” The lion werebeast too walked in.
“Now who would’ve done that?!” The white hair man 
“No matter we need to dispose such unruly person, tch.. it’s always violence first.” The actor draw his Grimoire wand. 
“Hii.. is this an assassination attempt? That’s scary.” A flying tablet walked in.
“Whatever it is, such matters could be solved instantly.” The man with two black horned too entered.  It is rare for Malleus to be present the dormleader meeting, this time Lilia had kept his eyes glued and tell him to go to the meeting hence the rare occurrence. 
They all have just finished their discussion in the dormleader meeting and were heading back to their respective dorm before hearing a loud shout and noises coming from the office. They decide its best to investigate. 
In a glimpse riddled saw somebody was about to attack the headmage and hence the explosion spell. 
The lightbulb of the lamp shade has shattered upon impact. Some of the shard had managed to pierce your hand. But no matter , you could not feel the penetrating shards nor the flowing blood. You were driven by rage, rendering you senseless of others. You did not even noticed who had entered the office. All you want to do is to get back at Crowley the way you know to do. You can’t do magic, but you sure can cause physical harm. 
A loud slam brought the dormwarden attemtion to you. You whom had felt your shoulder dislocated, decided that it is an obstacle, hence you slam your shoulder back in place by slamming it to the desk. You felt no pain, just a hollowing despair.
“A monster…?”
“No thats..”
“Y/n!!!”
The housewarden could only gawk at the sight of your furrowed eyebrow, vein popping out on your side. A clear fury drenched your face.
“no no no no….DONT GET IN MY WAY” an anguished cry came from your mouth as you eerily stood up and charged towards the headmage. Your bloody hand leaving trails as you shove Kalim and Vil away so you could get to the headmage. 
‘Y/n?!!’ 
Just as you were about to get a hit of that masked bastard you felt two strong arms holding you under the elbow, dragging you away from Crowley.
“Unhand me! I SAY UNHAND ME!” You struggle through Leona’s grip, kicking both your legs. You are manic.
“Eugh, calm down! Calm down, Y/N!” Leona whom had managed to snapped out of his shock tried to reason as he struggled to keep you in his hold.
“NO!! Please!! LET ME GO! Let me go!” Your eyes starts to blur once more, this time you can’t wipe the tears away, you don’t bother to do so, you had one goal to achieve. Tears are pouring freely from your manic eyes, eyebrows scrunched up marring your face. There is blood coming out one side of your face from the explosion. You are bruised all over, your clothes ripped and untidy, your hair a chaotic mess. 
Your appearance brought all of them to agape.  
Malleus upon snapping out rush to your side, helping leona to contain you.
“Y/n, please calm down.”
“Erkh, oi stop gawking start helping.” Leona snapped 
“You are bleeding!” Vil run to clasp your hand that hold the lamp shade tightly. 
“Let go.. your hand is injured.” He tried to pry it off your hand but you hold still. 
Your bloodshot eyes still focused on Crowley as you try to shake these obstacles. 
Kalim and Idia are staring blank to afraid to move. The gentle sweet you all gone replaced by your rage.
“Y/n! Im.. im so.. in sorry..im sorry” riddle stammered, he was ridden with guilt for casting the explosion that caused your injury, he hurt his precious person. 
“Whatever the fuck did  you do to rouse this reaction?” Azul turned to Crowley. Unable to stand the sight of your despair. 
“Uhmm..” crowley hated the attention that was instantly directed to him. 
“TELL THEM WHAT YOU DID! TELL THEM!! You.. YOU BASTARD!” You shouted still in their grasp unable to move further.
“I might have missedthetimelimittosendthembackhome. And the next possible date for it to happened again is 1000 year after last month Its not my fault—“ 
“FUCKKK YOUU!” With a new found power you try to pry those latching to you.
“Oii!” You manage to stagger Leona as he lost his grip, letting you slip. as much as Leona think you deserves to beat the crow to pulp he noticed your injured state, not wanting to worsen your condition he held on.
“Stop it! Stop it y/n. You will injure yourself.” Kalim rushed to hug you on your waist allowing Leona to keep his grip on you. 
“How could you missed the date for such important event?!” Riddle shouted to the headmage.
“And you don’t think to tell them!” Azul turned to shout.
“MOVE! AAAAARGHHH!!”  Frustrated by your inability to move you wailed.
If the housewarden were to be asked years after of the events that happened today they will always remember your anguish filled scream. Its deafening yet they could only feel their hearts cracking, as if they were hit by a hammer that let the pain vibrates through their whole body. 
It lasted not only for 5 second, you were screamed continuously for how ever long it takes for your lungs to be a depleted balloon. It is relatively a short time, but it felt like hours for the housewarden. At the end of your screamed you slumped down as those surrounding you lowered you to the ground slowly, vil finally taking the lamp shade out from your grip. 
“I… im… im never going to see them again.. im never going to see my family again… im never ..” you are interrupted by a sob before fully bursting into tears. Placing both your hand to your face. 
You felt yourself being wrapped in an embrace of the lion and a leathered hand patting your head. Kalim still holding you from the waist was moved to tears too. 
“Its not fairrr..” you squeek between sobs.
“ How could you be so irresponsible?” Vil shouted towards crowley.
“God help me im about to smash this lamp shade to your head instead!” Vil shouted
“Now now c-calm down.. lets talk about this.”
“What is there to talk about? Look at the pain you have caused!” Azul glared
“This is totally unacceptable! How could you?”
Riddle felt his head starting to colour red.
“This is enough, you have proven to me that you do not deserve to stand by them, now perish !” Malleus lift his hand up from your head as he walked towards  crowley, he himself felt enraged for what he did to you.
“Wa.. Wait wait wait!” Crowley stepped back, he sure wasn’t expecting the dormwarden to gang up on him, more the king of briar to be involved.
Malleus got close and closer as he clasp his hand on his neck.
“Eekh.”
“What is going on here.” The red robe man walked in inspecting the office, he was followed by the dog loving professor who too had been alerted by a heart wrenching scream. Behind both of them the big gym teacher too, follow them inside. 
The teachers sure wasn’t expecting the headmage to be choked by one of the student more over Malleus, they too wasn’t expecting the headmage to be surrounded by the other housewarden who had looked enraged. 
“what is the meaning of this” crewel demanded. 
Just as the teacher rushed in, the door opened for another trio.
“MYEH! What’s all the noises!” Grim rushed inside of the room
“We heard a commotion. Is everybody alright?”The spade boy rushed in with the heart.
The three of them were in their way to pick you up, since they were informed that you are going to report to crowley about the first year group hard-found investigation. They were planning to walk you back to the ramshackle dorm and have a midnight hang out with you and the others. 
Upon seeing the sight of malleus choking the headmage and the wrecked office they froze.
“Uwah.. what’s will all these mess..” ace surveyed the room. 
Crewel too observed the room before his eyes trails to another group in the room, he found you bruised, bleeding and sobbing into your hand as leona hugged you protectively  from behind and kalim, who is also crying, apologizing to you as in condolences, hugging your waist. 
“Crowley what did you do to my pup?” He spits. He won’t take shit from the man, looking at how broken you are not to mention the scream. He could feel the despair from your form. 
“I demand answer now!” Trein who had think of you as a stepchild, steps ignore the state of crowley who was still in the hold of Malleus. 
“I, i accidentally well.. miss the date in which the is the only possible date to open a transport to another dimension and the next date would be 1000 years from last month.” 
“And how are they in a ragged state?”
“Uhm.. that is my fault i thought the headmage was being attacked by an stranger so i cast an explosion spell resulting them to be thrown to the desk and landed behind. I am sorry.. im sorry y/n” riddle face was painted with guilt.
The silence given by the teachers is foreboding.
Crewel pull out his phone as he dial a number. “Hello I’d like to report a child neglect. Yes from NRC.”
“Wait wait wait! Please! Its a simple mistake, we living being made mistake.” 
“Not as crucial as this, this is just pure idiocy, that comes from me who doesn’t really understand much.” Vargas said.
“This is truly despicable.” Trein shouted
“Thats so fucked up!” Ace shouted
“No shit!” Deuce continues. 
“I knew we should never trust this bastard!” Grim snarled. Grim then rushed closer to where you slumped. Concern painted his face. “Henchmen…. are you alright.” 
The commotion starts again as the teachers too started to bash the neglectful headmage.
“… What.. what's the point..” you whispered a sob , slowly you put down your bruised and bleeding hand.
“What?” Kalim asked between sobs.
“What’s the point of living… everything… everything that i do is meaningless…” as the last word spout from your mouth your eyes rolled to the back, with your rage calmed into despair the extend of your injuries soon begun to catch up on its effects resulting your consciousness to fade. Its most likely from when you hit your head on the desk and then the floor resulting a blood injury on the side of your head.
“O-Oi… wake up. Y/N WAKE UP!” Leona stern voice laced with concern has alerted 
“Y/N! Y/NN!!” Kalim and grim yelled trying to wake you up. 
All attention turned to your limped body as they rushed towards your side. Crowley being dropped to the ground with a loud thud.
“Move movee!” Riddle shoved through the crowd.
“Leona lay her down and slightly elevate their head. Kalim let go.” Riddle shouted.
The sobbing Kalim of course refused to let you go, he is concerned for his dearest friend. Vargas had to pry Kalim off your waist as he clung to you. Leona comply because he know better.
Riddle begun a quick check up on your breathing. 
“They are not breathing!!” Riddle cried
“Move away give them space” Crewel pushed back the crowd as they all step back. 
Riddle then begun to do CPR on you.
The others watched with anxiety running course their veins. Dread filled their system as they thought of the worst possible outcome. After a while riddle managed to get you to breathe. Even if its faint at least you are breathing. With leona pressing on the wound in your head to stop the bleeding.
“We need to bring her to the infirmary hurry!” Riddle yelled.
Leona being the most athletic picked you up in an ease and rushed towards the infirmary. The others followed agreeing that there is a more precedented matter at hand and decide to deal with crowley after the matter is settled. 
Once they have arrived to the infirmary the nurse rushed towards you, ripping you away from leona’s arm asking them all to wait outside as they perform their knowledge to treat you. 
Leona stared at his bloody hand, it is not often that dread filled his guts, usually its a bitter annoyance, yet not all he could feel is anxiety amd dread. 
The rest was no better, they all thought of what they could’ve done to prevent this, what they regretted. None of them are prone to wishing, since a wish are for children. But now they found themselves wishing that all of this is a nightmare. Wishing that this would be over soon. Wishing for you to just open your eyes.  begging and praying for you to be alright, and for the you whom would embrace them in a warm hug with a gentle smile on your face to return not the lifeless ghastly you. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
In Ignihyde dorm,
For once idia wished he is present in that office instead of observing from the comfort of his room. His room felt chilly, shivers run down his spine, he was left speechless, so was ortho, who had been brought to attention by the commotion could be heard from idia’s monitor just as he was about leave to the ramshackle dorm gulped.
“Brother… what should we do?”
“I.. I dont know ortho..but we can’t leave them like this.”
Idia rushed as he and his brother rushed to the infirmary.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
in the infirmary,
The nurse finally were able to give you proper care as they patch you up, all that rest was for you to wake up.
Those do not settle well for any of the teacher nor the housewarden and your precious trio. They decided to keep you take turns to keep you company. Not knowing when you will wake up. 
The first is grim since he insisted so hard and refuse any other attempts to debate him. This meant of course that ace and deuce too to insist. And hence they got the first 5 hour to company their injured friend. Ortho insisted to stay with the group as well. Saying he is able to detect vital signs as the hours near the time of your collapse a crucial hour. So he wanted to check in you. 
Second goes to Kalim who is persistent about being any help to you what so ever. Kalim felt hopeless and useless. He wished he could’ve done something for you. And he blame himself for not being able to prevent this event. 
The third is Idia who had come in a rush with ortho, he volunteered to everyone surprise.
The fourth goes to Malleus, whom had  insisted since “he could stay up late than any other”. 
The fifth goes to vil whom had insist that since it would be in the break of dawn he is the most eligible guy for this because he woke up early. 
Sixth goes to Leona who snapped out of his trance.
Seventh to Azul, who was looking pale as if a shark was tailing him from the dark depths, he felt powerless like he was when he was a kid. And he loathe that. 
And last but not least to riddle. Whom still feels guilty for casting the explosion spell.
The days in which you are laid unconscious were tense and restless. An eerie silence has swept NRC. The dormwardens who were not on their shift returned to their dorm bringing the news to those who knew you. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
In Heartslabyul dorm,
When Riddle was rigid, he was devastated of the fact that he himself was the reason of your injury. He was greeted by trey and carter who upon noticing his face was concerned amd ask him what happened. 
When Riddle finished with the news, both thought that riddle was playing jokes at them, it is after they noticed Riddle tearing up that they realized how dire the situation was. The both of them are shocked to find that their friend bawling from guilt.
Trey and Carter calmed Riddle down and talked him out of his guilt, it truly wasn’t Riddle’s fault. 
The two of course wanted to give the crow a piece of their mind. Carter was about to make a video cancelling the headmage in his magicam (he was stopped by Riddle, even though he himself wanted Carter to post it.).  
Trey hastily walked to the kitchen to bake a lot of baked goods for their injured friends, having nothing to do Riddle and Carter helped Trey gladly, and so the three of them spent all might in the kitchen making fantastic delicious food for you. but of course they can’t forget a tart for the crow, a tart that shall be name ‘the pest killer’. Carter and Riddle too gladly help with his ill intent baking. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
In Savannaclaw dorm,
Upon noticing the smell of blood on their housewarden who looked grimmer than he usually was Ruggie and Jack rushed for answers. 
“Eugh so noisy…” 
With a sigh Leona begun the story, recalling the previous incident. 
Jack rushed to the infirmary, disregarding Leona’s attempts to stop him, leona could only sigh and let Jack be. 
Ruggie was in shell shock, he cannot believe the headmage! Just what kind of headmage neglect his duty?! He pity you, he wanted to go along with jack but he decided its best to do so later. Now he will plan the demise of a crow with the lion. That’s what he gets for messing with their pack.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
In Octavinelle dorm,
Azul was staggering back into his dorm, noticing the arrival of their friends Jade and Floyd. Noticing the pale they tease their friends but in actuality they are curious and concerned about the thing that made their friend so disheartened. Azul share the story, he felt himself going back to his overblot personality. 
Jade and floyd were silent, their face grim, their eyes were flashing dangerously. They looked to each other, and then a eerie smirk painted their face, 
“we can’t let that slide can we.” Said jade.
“We are going to give this crow the tightest squeeze ever!” Said floyd.
“Yes.. maybe a bot of a waterboarding action would make the crow realized that he fucked up.” Azul joined in.
But of course they find your well-being to be the outmost importance, so they will busy themselves watching over you until you wake up.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
In Scarabia dorm,
Jamil was surprised to find his ‘friend’ come back to Scarabia a crying mess, when Kalim notices Jamil water begun to pour once more from his eyes as he rushed to hug his friend. 
“What happened?” Jamil sigh asked patting Kalim back. He was no surprise of Kalim
Burst of tears, his childhood friend are prone to waterworks since he wear his feelings by the sleeve. It is the reason that shocked him. 
‘That damn bird brain!’ He hissed internally. Jamil wanted to go to you directly, but Kalim cling to him making him stuck. 
They did get their turn on the shift and so the snake waited patiently. He decided to cook a recipe from his mother for when he was sick hoping that would help you with recovery even if you. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
In Pomefiore dorm,
“Why so grim Roi du poisson?” Rook questioned, noticing the slight slump in his overall perfect posture as vil walked back to his dorm. 
“Of course i should’ve expected from your ever so vigilant eyes…” vil begun to tell the tragic tale of yours. 
The french boy could feel his smile dropped 
“oh what a tragedy. How the most beautiful rose are the most prone to be picked first. They would wilt in the dirty hand of such a scum. Such a greedy hand doesn’t deserve to hold such pretty flower on their blooming days.” 
His face was slowly casted with the shadow of his bangs. As malice run course his vein. He was not a fan of violence but to protect such a rose he wouldn’t mind to get his hand dirtied on. 
He decided to listened when vil started planning the demise of the dirty crow. He supported Vil cruel method to the fullest. 
Epel who was eavesdropping on the conversation rushed to the hospital wing of NRC, he wanted to this is a mere talk, but he knew Vil would never fuss himself over meaningless gossip. He still wished it was not real and you are fine and awake and will greet him with a smile on your face. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
In Ignihyde dorm,
Upon returning to his room Idia slumped in defeat, he is useless powerless once more, 
“I can’t… I can’t lose another person..” 
He begun to bury himself in work, he wanted to make sure you recovered well and Crowley to get what is coming to him. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
In Diasomnia dorm,
The briar king arrival was greeted by his vice leader and his two peers, but to him it was just his family greeting him back.
“Waka-sama! Thank you for your hard work!” The booming voice snapped Malleus put of his rage trance. He didn’t even notice the ice trail he was living behind. 
“Oh uh… yea.” Malleus answered 
“Its.. cold isn’t.” The silver haired boy softly spoke. 
“Malleus is thought i thought you to better control of your emotion. Look at the ice trail.” The bat fae man scolds.
“Ah i did that. Im sorry.” With a snap of his finger the trail was gone. But now he was faced with the concerned faces of his family. 
“Malleus what exactly happened..”
“I guess i need to tell you this as well.” Malleus sigh in defeat as he share the tale of how Crowley absolutely messed up your mental capacity.
“I should’ve crush his throat when i got the chance.” 
The room seemed to dimmed. When the shock was broken Lilia was cursing the damn crow. Silver who was angry stayed eerily quiet. ‘Unfair’ he thought. ‘Thats unfair!’ He felt dreadful sorrow for you enough to filled hos eyes with tears. After all that you done for them, they could not help you. 
Sebek who was in a silent trance excused himself in a hurry. His pale face is apparent. ‘No you have to wake up… i still have some stuff i haven’t get to say to you’ he thought as he rushed out of his form into the infirmary. He may sound rude or strict but he do truly cares about you and his friend. He regretted not being frontal about his feelings. 
The rest three of them could only do what villains do best. Planning to absolutely crush the crow with a wretched smile on their face. Even silver was in on the plan, without the wretched stained smile of course, he believe just was needed for you, he will become your knight in shining armour. Afterall, the damned bird had attacked their family, and there is a dire consequence to pay. 
All of them regretted that they couldn’t protect your from this event, they wished they were aware of what Crowley did. This includes the other teacher who wished they to participate in the investigation to find your way back home so that they could at least be aware of Crowley and his neglectful behaviour. If only they are apart of the investigation, they would be able to prevent this event from going. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
The infirmary was cold and quiet. Ace, deuce and Grim all looked sullen. Grim was teary, crying for you to wake up soon. Deuce was praying for you to get better, to open your eyes at the very least. 
Ortho was observing you diligently monitoring your vitals and looking for a sign in case your symptoms worsened. Though that doesn’t mean he was not haunted by the event. 
Ace was deep in his thoughts how he regretted not coming with you to the headmage office.
All of them regretted not being with you in the office. The image of your hollow dull eyes was imprinted in their memory. Your scream ringed in their ears. A shadow casted the infirmary.  
First was jack who came in,
He was taken a back by the sight of your limped body, the visible bandaged wrist and arm a sore to his eyes. He felt rage for whoever made you like this. 
Epel was next, 
He looked as surprised as as jack muttering “its a lie.. its a lie no way..” before going mad himself  he wanted to cuss and find Crowley right then and there, but he stop himself for the same of you. 
The last to come was Sebek, 
Who had come with a teary eye. Seeing you so broken, fragile like glass he turned away to wipe the flowing tears. How sad your fate were. He find himself mad to the perpetrator. ‘How dare they.’
They all wished to have been there to inform the investigation  they all did to help you to go back home. They wish they are in the office comforting you rather than leaving you alone to discover such secrets. And to be there to prevent you from spiraling into a despair manic breakdown. 
When their turn is up, they exchange their shifts, the sneaky first year get to company you twice since they insisted to go with their perspective housewarden when it is their shift.
 Grim was there all the way, and if he wasn’t, it meant that he was dragged away from your bed by just anybody to get himself fixed and have a proper meal. 
All of them begged for the little miracle they could have. They know miracle does not happened at all for the likes of them, but this time, just this once they wishes and pray to the great sevens to bring you back, to make you open your eyes. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Your eyes could finally flutter on the dawn of the fourth day since the incident. You noticed that the sky was still dark. You tried to look around but a sharp pain ring your head causing you to winched. 
“Mon cheríe!” The hunter, whose eyes were fixed on you relaxed as he rushed towards your side. 
“Thank heaven! Please lay still.. you don’t want to further the damage in your head.” Vil sternly reprimand, he was sitting on the other side with a book in his hand.
“Y/n! Y/n!!!” You are awake!!!”  You see feel a soft furry friend rushed to hug you from your bedside. 
“Thank heavens!! Hey grim! Give em sum space would’ya!” The purple haired boy half shouted, 
They felt a part of their anxiety evaporating from them. But that is not enough
“Hnn.. what.. happened?” 
“…..”
“You…” vile stammered
“Y/n!! What's my name?”
“Epel, of course your name is epel..” you croak, your throat dry. 
The three people plus direbeast in the room sigh a heavy breathe, your memory is intact. 
“Here drink some water. He gently prop your head with his hand as he gently tip the glads of water into your parched mouth. 
Licking your dry lips you felt yourself weakly placed back to the bed.
“I.. i passed out…”
“Yess.. you have a concussion from the explosion.” Vil explained.
“The explosion…..” you muttered.
“I… i can’t go back… i can’t.. my family… i .. i can’t see them anymore.” You sobbed . Large bulb of tears spill from your eyes as quickly as it had pooled. 
The room was blurred by your tears and your sobs filled the room. 
“.. in sorry..” you hurriedly bring your hand to cover your face. You felt embarrassed to cry like this but you can’t help the tears that is pouring. 
“No stop that.. it’s not your fault mon cheri.”
He brought your hand back to the bed. Rook took a handkerchief from his pocket as he wipe your tears gently and carefully. Rook doesn’t find it disgraceful to see you in tears, in fact he thought your eyes looked like a jewel. 
He wished to comfort you very much, to take away the pain from you, but all he could do now was simply wipe your tears. 
Grim was silent. He could only lay his head on your chest as he try to comfort you with his padded paw. 
In all honesty Vil and Epel too doesn’t find you disgusting or messy for crying, rather they want you to cry on their shoulder, to comfort you the best they could. Same as Rook, they wished to wipe that tears away from you.
“Whatda’ya mean?! If its anybody fault its that damned bird!” Epel half screamed in his thich accent.
“YES YES! If i meet that crow! I’ll bite em for you!” Grim enthusiastically said.
“Epel is right! Never apologize to something that is not your fault!” Vil sternly advice. 
“.. thank you.. guys..” You try to suppress your hiccup and sob 
You were driven back to sleep because of your little breakdown much to the dismay of your friends. Your body and mental was too exhausted after the sobbing mess. 
They were all relieved that there doesn’t seem to be a sign of your physical damage to worsened but they could not bring them to be happy because you are so broken mentally. The little breakdown you have made a painful sting in their heart. 
“Rook inform the others that y/n is awake.” Vil ordered.
“Yes, Roi du poisson.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
The others soon rushed to the hospital wing upon hearing the news. Their excitement was crushed to see your sleeping red tear stained face. 
“Hey, i thought you say she was awake?” Floyd lowly muttered, irritated.
“she fell back asleep.” Vil said
“Don’t mean with me?!” Leona growled 
“And who asked you to urgently come to infirmary?”
“Y/n really woke up!” Grim argued
“Yes! And she fell back to sleep from.. crying.” Epel continued.
A commotion starts, They were being loud, and accidentally waking you up. 
“Uhmnn…” 
“Oh she really is awake!” 
“Hey! Great now you woke her up!”
You were rubbing your eyes. As you begun to slowly sit up ignoring Vil insistent to get you to laugh down. 
“At least lay here,” he grab another pillow from a nearby empty bed and he prop them up to make a comfortable sitting cushion.
“Thank you, vil.” You smiled. 
“uhm.. i made everyone worry.. im sorry.” You attempted to bow, you meant to only hurt crowley but here you are bai g a burden to everyone. 
Everyone protested. Vil grabbed unto you shoulder and prop the back to the pillow stack.
“What did i just tell you about apologizing for a mistake that isn’t yours?”
“Ah but i did made a mistake.. i become a burde-“
“Don’t finish that word! You are everything but a burden! And it was me who cast that blasted explosion spell, i caused your injury, i am very sorry you/n” Riddle felt shame as bow for forgiveness to you.
“After all you have done for us! It is us who could do nothing to help you. We are the one who should be sorry.” Lilia affirmed.
“ you have always been here for us, yet now…” Ace uncharacteristically said.
“We are sorry..” Kalim who was bought to tears again and were being held by Jamil as to not rush as hug you.
“No.. no.. please, Riddle i don’t blame you at all everybody in the bright mind would do that, and all of you are never a burden to me.” 
“Then don’t ever say you are a burden ok” silver spoke.
“Yes don’t you dare utter such blasphemy to your name!” Sebek yelled
“If its anyone fault! Its that damn birdbrain, don’t worry shrimpy I’ll give him a hugee squeeze for you~”
“Yes a punishment is at due.” Jade joined in.
“With no charge of cousse don’t worry yourself!” Azul smirked.
“Now here you muct be hungry, i made you my mothers recipe.” Jamil brought out a warm stew for you to eat.
“Yes! Jamil food always healed me when im sick!” 
“Ah yeah! After that you could have all the cake, tart, cupcakes, scones you’d like!” Trey add. Showcasing the whole baked goods he mentioned. Some of them are made in a cute animal shape.
“The heartslabyul bois made them with love~” Carter giggled.
“ whoa they bought the whole bakery to the infirmary!” Ruggie gawked
“Heh such a beloved spoiled herbivore you are.” Leona mused.
“You need to eat well y/n, for recovery!” Jack reminded.
“Yes that is true! A high nourishing food is good for a speedy recovery!” Ortho beamed. 
“Ah ok.. you went to pick the spoon up as the stew was placed in front of you, only to feel a the sun-kissed skin gently slap
It away.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He scolded. Jamil then picked up the spoon and scoop the stewing stew from the bowl, then he blow on them gently before moving it close to your mouth.
“Eh…” you blushed upon realizing what happened.
“C’mon the stew is spilling.”
“Ah ok..” you stammered. You hesitantly open your mouth allowing Jamil to feed you.
You felt quite embarrassed as you chew away the meat in your stew. 
“Oi…” 
“Why does it have to be you who feed them?” Ace grumbled.
“Because he made them.. don’t worry we will get out turn soon” deuce grinned.
“We should’ve bring them food too! Don’t worry next time i will cook a delicious meal for you!” Lilia announced.
“Oh uhm.. hahahha no.. i dont want to burden you hahaha.” You panicked.
The rest of them reminiscence the day they get to eat lilia food, the lot of them turned green.
You glanced at Tsunataron, Sebek, and Silver for help.
“Ah uh don’t worry we will help too!” Sebek boomed.
“Yes we would be the outmost help!” Silver joined.
“Yes we will keep a close watch!” Malleus continues.
“Hahaha thank you guys” you giggled.
“I too have a mushroom soup in mind! They are very nutritious you see!” Jade beamed as he always does when he talk about his mushrooms.
“Eughh stopp! Dont feed just mushroom to little shrimpy! They might get stomach pain!” Floyd complained 
“I agree with floyd, though the best of monstro longue food is at due!” Azul promised.
“I too have a recovery recipe for you, you will be healed in no time!” Vil said
“Oh! The great roí du poisson cooking for you, how luck must you be mon trickster.” 
“ big brother and i could come up with aomet too right, big brother!”
“Yes leave it to big… maybe not food hahaha.” 
Idia stammered at the end
The lot of them seeing this begun to have an idea to bring you food in the idea to get to feed you. Leona despite not saying anything brought you meat to eat, he said meat is very important for recovery. It was a very delicious meat, 
“Of course i bought them from only the best restaurant.” Leona smirked. 
…Rich guy.
Ruggie brought you his grandma ultimate recipe.
Idia unable to cook decided he will just made you a gaming console for when you are bored. You thanked him. He put a multiplayer game and other game too so the three of you could play together.
Occasionally the faculty member come to visit, 
Crewel would come bringing a potion for your health, he did scolded you for letting your anger control you. But at the same time, he understands why. Mainly he was concerned for his child pup
Trein would check up on you occasionally sneakily giving you treats, anything for his ehem favorite adopted grandchild student. 
Vargas patted you on the back trying to console you and occasionally visit you too, he noticed how small you look and can’t to want to protect you. “Next time there is any problem just call daddy! And i will be there in an instant!” He boomed with his white shining teeth. He really could an actor in a toothpaste commercial.
Sam was filled in on what’s happening after crewel came in eyebrow burrowed, smelling of tabacco and demanding the finest bottle of wine. He felt pity for his favorite child costumer. He visited you bringing you trinkets and candies from all around the island, he said its free of charge and that not to mind it since he was giving the candies away anyway, though you suspect he lied about that part. He often patt your head as you pop the snack or candy he brought for you.
The first year would visit you for hours after class it seemed like it has become their hang out place. Right after school ended, they rushed to go to the infirmary. They bring snacks with them and of course the famous Felmer apple juice. They would bring today's notes to you and do homework together, play game together, or any other stuff to cheer you up. 
The lot of them made you feel better though you are still saddened about not being able to see your family, you have to agree with Crowley that the family you have in NRC is heavenly for you.  
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Finally come the day you are discharged. 
The dorm planned a party for your recovery of course with the permission of the teachers. They bring all sorts of food and drinks. You enjoyed everything, their laughter, their pranks, the way they joked, the way they care for you and one another. Everything made the hollow in your heart to fill up.
“Now are we ready for the main event!” Azul announced.
“Eh main event?.. what is that.. i was not aware..” you whispered to grim.
“Hehehe! Just wait and see henchman!”
“We sure are!” They cheered, their eyes were glinted with mischief and wickedness.
“Introducing the flaming pest!” Lilia cheered as he flew above and lifted the sheet covering the stand.
It was Crowley tied to a wooden pole as stack of hay was stuffed in his surrounding. 
“What.. what!! HEY!! Released me this instant!!”  He screamed. 
“Whats the meaning of this! I expect better from you housewarden!! Crewel! Trein! Vargas! Sam! Save me!!”
He was meet with a smirk. Crewel raised the wine glass to his mouth as he sip the succulent wine. “ may you rest in pieces.” The two other laughed. Trein just smirked silently and sip his wine ready to watch the beautiful flaming pyre. 
“NOOOOO!!!” 
All of them jeered and laughed. You could only find your self in a state of shock amazed of house brilliant and caring your friends are, you are brought to tears.
“Ah y/n is crying!”
“Why are you crying dearie.”
“It must’ve because of that bird!” 
“I DID.. Nothing .. at least now.” Crowley defended himself.
“No it’s not it, it’s just.. I'm just touch at how caring and lovely you are.” You are meet with couple embrace from the first year group whom had stayed by your side. 
“What a heartfelt sight you truly have a gift to bring people together. BUT NOT THE RIGHT TIME NOR THE RIGHT CAUSE! C’mon i am Sorry alright!! Pleasee!” 
“Thank us later once the show has begun, now be amazed!” Jade beamed from your behind holding your shoulder as he lifted your chin up to see the stage. 
“Alright!” 
“Pull the lever!” Ruggie howled.
‘Click!’ 
“No nooo!!” Crowley shouted, he was so very sure he was going to die burning to the death, yet no fire ball come through. A bunch of hay fall through from nowhere, a summoning spell.
Then followed with tons of bags, robes, and coat. Another batch comes tons of hard worked documents., and a sofa.
“Eh..”Crowley was confused about the whole thing, until he realized that all of those stuff was taken from his room and office. 
“NOOO!! My Dioz branded coat! My Guzzi Bagg! MY VALENTINE ROBEE!!! I worked hours for that document pleaseeee. my 8 million thaumark couch!
“Set them on fire!” Kalim cheered
“YEAYYYY!!” 
Carter was filming the whole thing. He will send the video to idia to render for high quality and will distribute them to those attending including the teachers. 
Each dorm were given a chemical to throw into the fire,
The Heartslabyul were given Lithium to turn the fire colour red.
The Savannaclaw were given Sodium to turn the fire colour yellow.
The Octonaville were given Caesium to turn the fire colour bright purple.
The Scarabia were given Radium to turn the fire colour bright red.
The Pomefiore were given Potassium to turn the fire colour darker purple.
The Ignihyde were given Indium to turn the fire colour Blue
The Diasomnia were given Boron to turn the fire colour green.
This of course is conducted safely. The idea comes from both Rook and Trey with the approval of Crewel who is also supervising them in this event.
“NOOOOOOOI!!!!!! Stop stop!! Burn me instead nooooo!” Crowley struggle two times the effort but to no attempt. Leona and jack had made sure that the ropes tightly dig into the headmage body. 
“ARGHHHHH!!” The headmage felt utterly despair as he too faint from shock.
You are mesmerized by the different colour that flashed by the pyre.
The whole party cheered. The bags, coats, and robes completely turned to ash.
Everybody had the same thought in their head. 
‘Serve him right for messing with y/n.’
You grow silent again for a after cheering as reality seep in on you.
“Hmm what’s wrong, are you not satisfied with the display?” Jack concerned voice brought attention from the rest of the group. 
“No it’s just.. since i will be here forever i don’t know where to go after i finished with my studies. I can’t do magic so i am practically useless in this world.”
“What are you saying henchmen! You and i will be together forever i am the one who could cast magic and you shall be the brain!”
“Yes and besides I wouldn’t mind if you take the last name Roseheart if you would allow. I will forever protect and i will provide you with anything you want. I will be a lawyer you see! You will be living the best of your life with me. And grim too of course. Besides i need to take responsibility for giving you, your first kiss.” Riddle instantly offered.
Your brain short circuited. “Huh… eh..” 
Did you just got proposed?!
No way right?!
“NO WAY! Y/N you should take Ashengrotto instead you see i will be the next biggest billionaire! You wouldn’t need to worry about penny of what you want to spend, unlike a lawyer who need to rely on a client to earn living. And frankly, CPR does not count as a kiss!” he sneered
“What do you mean by that huh?!”
“No, y/n you should come to briar valley instead! You could marry one of my son, i have options anyone you choose would guarantee to provide you with the best, Malleus will be king of briar, my other two will become a royal guard! Although i wouldn’t mind if you want to spend your days with my last years.” Lilia claimed.
“F-father.. but y/n its true i will provide you the best I could.” Red tint his cheeks.
“YES! I don’t care if you are a human, you are truly the best of best, i would be honoured if you are willing to spend your days with me.” Sebek blabbered blush. 
“Y/n would you consider, you shall be the queen of briar valley and i your king. We shall spend our moment with joy, i guarantee your safety and riches.” Malleus confidentially proclaimed red tinted his ears.
“Hah, and what lock her up in that dark gloomy tower of yours? Y/n you should ignore these guys. Come with me and become y/n kingscolar, your good friend ‘Tsunatarou’ are not the only one with a royal blood. Come with me, i will ensure twice what they offer. Be my queen herbivore.” Leona smirked extending his hand. He might sound pompous but the red tint on his face says otherwise.
“No, you might be royalty, but the al asim family possess riches compared to a royalty! And Kalim is the heir of al-asim! You should come to scalding sands instead!”
Jamil shouted, yes he just promoted his best friend, but who to say you can’t have an affair with him. 
“Yes! Yes!” Kalim agreed
“No way! Your family is riddled with murder attempts the leeches are guaranteed to be veryyyy secured! Shrimpy won’t need to be cautious when eating their food nor do they need to sleep with one eye open.” Floyd smirked. 
“Yes you could chose the either of us, but in all honesty i dont mind sharing with my brother you see, we always share out stuff anyway.” Jade laugh into his hand like a proper gentleman he was.
You never would have thought to see the leech brother blushing but here you are, 
“I am a renowned actor! The number one barchelor in the entire island! You should take my hand instead! I will promise you fame and glory! You will be rich and beautiful, you shall be my queen.” Vil too joined in with a blush to his face.
“Heh all actor have expiry date you know.” Leona tease
“What do you mean by that?”
“He meant when you are all wrinkly and old!”
Ortho tease, the gremlin inside of him seemed to have awakened.
“I am still far from that age! I am not old!!”
“But you depend on it.” Ortho teased again.
“Oh truly marvelous! But y/n I wouldn’t mind if you choose to go as Schoenheit, I too have to propose for you to take the name hunt, I promise to protect you and guide you till the day we have to separate naturally.” Rook proclaimed.
“Rook.. you dare betray me..”vil was once again shocked.
“You shouldn’t shock since you saw what was under my room wallpaper, and me as your supplier.”
“Huh.. that made perfect sense.” Vil sigh.
“Y/N .. w-would you go to S.T.Y.X with me! I know i might not be much, but i assure you! Styx have the best protection, they even manage to beat all of these housewarden. I want to rule styx with you… uhmm thats too cheesy!! The point is!! I would like to offer the shroud last name if you allow me to be with you!!!” Idia stammered. His hair tip turned pink as he fiddle with his fiddle with his fingers out of nervousness.  
“Yes y/n! We would have a lot of fun adventuree!” 
“Absolutely not.. not in a chance i’d let that happen.” The overblot boys yelled.
“SHADDAP!! It's not your choice its theirs!” He yelled.
“ARGHHH… ya kno, the bunch of ya! Not everythin is about richesss! Y/n! We could build our Felmer farm together! And I will take care of ye for the rest of ma days! I vowed to ya!” Epel declared! Face flushed red both from anger and rage.
“The Bucchi name would look good on you y/n. I promised to find any means to provide for us! And even if you don’t I don't mind if you want to have an affair with me, i can share!” Ruggie assert himself.
“Or me in that case! I promised to protect you as long as I can breathe, I may not have a mountain of riches but i will ensure a peaceful calm life for the both of us. What do you say y/n would you take the howl name?” Jack continued. 
“Y/n I may not have much as well, but I can ensure you a fun and on going life! I will provide for you! All you need to do is give cay- cay lots of love ok? And I promise you everything and the name diamond.” Carter too extended his hand.
“My family have a bakery and my sibling, and my parents are a very lovely and warm people! My parents and siblings loved you already! I will vow to be there for you always to the end of days, to provide for you in sickness and in health.” Trey fixed his glasses in nervousness, yet he delivered his message perfectly. 
“NO! Y/n! MY MOM LOVED YOU ALREADY! She kept going on and on about when you are going to visit! You don’t need to worry about horrible mother in law!! She adored you just as i have come to adore you… i-if you are willing to take the spade name.”
“No way! They would not last with somebody with the brain of a peanut! Y/n i will climb to the top of top! And provide you with everything there is in the world! How about that? Will you take the Trapolla name.” Ace too declared.
“So who would you choose?” 
“LIKE HELL I’D GIVE MY PRECIOUS PUP TO YOU BRAT! Wolves! STAY AWAY! Y/n will you become my child instead! Here you can sign your name here and here! I will provide you! And if you want a job you could be my exclusive model for my brand!” Crewel wave his riding crop to shoo away your barchelor as he hovers you and adoption paper.
“Teacher we too can find y/n a promising job! Away, no harrassment shall befell them!” Some of the students argued.
“I jest, y/n you should come with me! I have experience with kid. You shall be taken care of with the outmost dignity. I have enough to provide for everyone.” Trein claimed.
Vargas and sam are satisfied to be the strong protective and the spoiling uncle, yet they found themselves offering you the same offer.
“I own a family business far and wide and mysterious, i will tell you all about it if you sign here and here.”
“I will protect you from all the troubles amd boys! Over my head body!” 
“Whoa, you manage to make the students fight one another and the teachers too! Such power you have, henchman.”
You are left a blubbering mess.. 
“Huhhhhh!!!!!!” 
“Don’t worry the great Grim will choose the most perfect eligible barchelor for you! You don’t mind anybody right?!”
“A..AA ….”
“Okk! such trouble this henchman brough me" Grim smirked
And hence the chaos ensued.
Though, it is safe to say that Crowley would not dare to pull something as such or mess with you again. Reports said he had become more diligent and responsible to his work. Such trauma you caused him.
So, whose hand will you take, my dear?
[Words 9219]
» End «
•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•
[A/N]
This is by far the longest fic I had written 9219 words?! YIPPEE
taglist: @neufora @shironakuronatasa
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navybrat817 · 7 months ago
Note
Could use a cuddle with Bucky. 😭
Me, too, nonnie.
Open Your Eyes
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: You aren't ready to face the day.
Word Count: Over 700
Warnings: Slight angst, comfort, insecurities, doubt, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: For @flashfictionfridayofficial 's prompt: Open Your Eyes. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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It was difficult to rise and meet the day. Heavy were the burdens and challenges that awaited you. As much as the rays of sunshine beckoned for you to get up as the warmth touched your face, you refused to budge. Staying in bed was comforting. Easier. 
If sleep gave life to your dreams, why face reality?
Why did you have to get up?
“Open your eyes.”
You wished you could explain why it hurt to do so. Why it felt like you might break if you tried. You wanted some sort of relief. Answers to questions you hadn't begun to ask. You wanted to regain some sense of control and not feel like the build up inside of you would explode. 
Would it be so wrong to let it out?
“Please,” the gentle voice urged, patiently waiting. 
A man who would wait forever for you if you asked.
A pair of blue eyes bore into yours when you finally complied with his command. His loving gaze lifted some of the weight that settled in your chest. His smile alleviated it more, making it easier to take your next breath. He was one of the reasons why facing reality was better than any dream.
“There she is,” he whispered, cupping your cheek as you blinked the remaining sleep away. “Hey.”
“Hey, Bucky,” you whispered back, leaning into his touch before he brought his hand to your waist and pulled you closer. “You’re here.”
You half expected him to be on the floor with a pillow and sheet. Sleep wasn't easy for him to come by, especially on the nights when nightmares plagued him. He tossed and turned and had a hard time getting back to sleep when he abruptly woke up. The last thing he wanted to do was disturb your slumber. 
But you did your best to ease him through by being there. You took care of him. And some days he took care of you. Give and take. That’s what relationships should be. 
“I’ll always be here when you wake up,” he said when your eyes misted over. He pulled you closer, a look of desperation crossing his face when he saw your tears. “Are you okay?”
Words died on your tongue as you opened your mouth. You wanted to tell him you didn't know why today felt so heavy, but his presence made it better. You wished you could explain why you were pulling apart at the seams, but that his touch helped stitch you back together. He helped you without trying. 
When you were wide awake later, you’d remind him of how much you appreciated him. 
“I don't know,” you answered. 
He let out a breath. It was an answer he usually gave you, not the other way around. “Come here.”
He pressed a kiss on the top of your head when you laid it against his chest. You held him like this from time to time. You’d urge him to listen to the beat of your heart as you ran your fingers through his hair. It calmed him. 
Like the steady beat of his heart calmed you. 
But fear crept in like a slow poison when he gave you no reason to feel that way. It infected your confidence and securities with doubt. What if you were too much for him? What if he chose to walk away? Falling in love could feel terrifying when you didn't know where you’d land. 
As if he sensed your insecurity, he placed another kiss to the top of your head and renewed your faith that you’d be there to catch each other. 
“I love you and I’m thankful I have you by my side,” Bucky said, further affirming that he wouldn't give up on you for any reason. 
Just like you’d never give up on him. 
“I love you and I’m thankful for you, too,” you said, a tear sliding down your cheek before you hid your face in his chest. “But can we stay like this a bit longer? I know we need to get up, but I’m not quite ready.”
“We can stay here as long as you’d like,” Bucky promised. 
And when you were ready, you'd face the day together. 
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Love and thanks for reading. ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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psychedelic-ink · 8 months ago
Text
ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐘
ㅤㅤjoel miller x f!reader x tess servopoulos
genre: smut, modern au, minors dni
word count: 2k
summary: you're new to town and tess invites you to go camping with her and joel.
warnings: fmf, threesome, flf dynamics, reader being eaten out for the first time, dirty talk, oral s.ex, cum eating/play, for the sake of this fic let's just imagine they have a very big tent they can actually stand in lmaodfb, things escalate quickly but honestly I just wanted to write some good old smut
a/n: this wasn't originally intended for the amazing @undercoverpena's april showers challenge BUT since I had already written the rain aspect of the fic I thought it would be nice to post this for it 💜
prompt: both/all parties get caught in the rain. 
**dividers by @saradika-graphics 💜
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Breathing is hard. Walking is hard. Carrying the weight of your backpack is hard. 
But, the fresh air, the white clouds above, and the two people you’re with make up for it. 
Stopping briefly, you roll your shoulders and stretch, neither of them notice you. Not really. You figure it’s not really important if they do or don’t, it’s not like they’re that much ahead of you, catching up wouldn’t be difficult. You watch them, you must admit, a bit dreamily as they walk the bath they’re clearly so used to walking. You’re still surprised that the seasoned hikers invited you to a camping trip. Tess was the one to approach, she knew you were new and how overwhelming it’s been getting used to the people and the sights. She told you she and Joel would be going on a trip soon and that you should join. And even though your answer had been an eager yes, you were worried about holding them back. Admittedly, you weren’t the most fit and haven’t hiked anywhere in years. 
However, your excitement to spend time with not one but both of them had tipped the scale rather harshly. You’ve been harboring a secret crush on both of them, it was hard not to when both of them were charming and witty.
Now, as you walk behind them, you can't help but steal glances at the way Tess effortlessly navigates the trail, her hair swaying with each step. Joel walks beside her, occasionally pointing out interesting plants or landmarks, his backpack seeming almost weightless on his shoulders.
You catch yourself smiling as you imagine what adventures lie ahead on this trip.
You decide to pick up your pace, closing the gap between you and them. As you draw nearer, Tess glances back, her eyes brightening with a genuine smile as she sees you catching up.
"How's the hike treating you?"
You catch your breath and reply, "It's challenging, but I'm enjoying every moment of it."
Joel turns around with a friendly grin. "Glad to hear that. We've got a great spot picked out for camping tonight."
As the three of you continue forward, you feel a surge of excitement. Your legs might be aching, but you can't wait to see where the day takes you all.
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Rain. 
At first, you thought you were unlucky. You had dreamed of campfire, smores and snuggling underneath the starlight, but with the first lightning strike and drop of water, you thought the two would be agitated, annoyed by the bad weather. 
But to your surprise, as the rain began to fall in earnest after setting the tent, Tess and Joel didn't seem bothered at all. In fact, they laughed and exchanged playful looks as they turned their heads up to the sky. Their infectious joy caught you off guard, and despite the downpour, you found yourself smiling too.
Then, unexpectedly, Joel's arm slides around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. A rush of warmth floods through you as his lips brush against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. Simultaneously, Tess leans in, her lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. The moment is electrifying, filled with a blend of desire and affection.
Before you know it, Tess and Joel are gently guiding you towards the tent they had set up earlier. The rain continues to pour around you, but inside the cozy confines of the tent, a different kind of heat ignites. 
“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” Joel cups both your breasts tenderly from underneath, the wet fabric dampening his skin. You feel Tess’s eyes on your back, observing, taking in the details of the scene before her. Meanwhile, Joel’s gaze is glued to your pebbled nipples, he slowly drags his thumbs over them, your breath catching in your throat. “Does that feel good?” 
“It does,” your eyelids flutter, he repeats the movement, drawing circles this time. His eyes flicker up to meet yours. 
“So fucked out already,” he hums. “Our pretty little girl, so shy and hungry.” 
Tess stands from where she is sitting and circles her arms around your waist, fingers digging into your stomach, she pulls you flush against her. Your stomach bottoms out as you feel the plump flesh of her breasts against your back. Your lips part, you want to kiss her. 
You want to kiss her. 
You turn your head, chasing her lips with yours, before your eyes close, you see the mischievous curl of her lips. She pulls away and smiles even wider when you whine. “You’re so easy to tease.” 
Opening your eyes, you swallow, your body arches when Joel sneaks both hands under your shirt, lifting the fabric, goosebumps raise all over your skin. “Is that a bad thing?” you ask her, voice slightly shaking. 
“Not at all princess,” she drags her lips down your neck. “It just makes it even more amusing.” 
Your reply gets stuck in your throat as Joel dips down and sucks one of your pebbled nipples into his mouth. He tightly closes his lips around the nub and flicks it with his tongue. Your body jolts, pleasure running through you like the lighting outside. Your head falls over Tess’s shoulder, she lays open-mouthed kisses over your neck, her hands unbuttoning your pants. 
“You want him to eat you out?” she breathes into your skin and without looking at either of them you nod. “Have you ever had your pussy eaten out, princess?” 
You lick your lips, “No,” you say half ashamed, and swallow. “This’ll be my first time.” 
Joel’s tongue stills on your skin and suddenly two hungry eyes come into your view. If you didn’t know better you’d say he looks pissed off. Never breaking eye contact, he continues what Tess started and pushes down your pants along with your underwear, leaving you bare to the chill of the tent. He pushes two fingers between your folds and starts stroking you, you shudder against both of them, and your breath hitches. 
“Tell me how bad you want it,” he says. “Beg me for it.” 
“Please.” 
He chuckles darkly, “Oh sweetheart, I ain’t gettin’ on my knees for that. Do better.” 
You let out a small gasp as he grips your chin, squeezing lightly. To provide comfort, Tess kisses the back of your neck, however, you can feel her smiling into your skin. 
“Please,” you say again. “I want you to make me come, Joel. I want to feel your tongue—I want you to be my first—” 
Your lips part for another incoming beg but he’s already sinking to his knees, large hands sliding up and down the back of your thighs. A shudder rolls up your spine. Tess’s hands replace Joel’s, kneading your breasts softly. 
His hands finally come between your thighs, gently nudging them so you open wider. You see a flicker of a smile when you do, amused, he drags two fingers between your folds. “You’re soaked, sweetheart.” 
“She’s not the only one,” Tess chuckles. “Now get on with it, Miller. I’m impatient.” 
He clicks his tongue without retaliating further. You feel the warmth of his breath on your core, and slowly, he presses his lips over your mound, the scratch of his beard making it an exquisite experience. You moan at the touch of his tongue, it moves slowly, circling your clit and going deeper. His nails bite into your skin, the sounds he makes between your legs are downright sinful. Your legs begin to shake. 
“Shh it’s okay,” Tess whispers against your cheek. “Just give him a taste and we’ll lay you down, princess. I know you can do it.” 
Joel grunts in approval, the timber of the sound making you whimper. His hands slide up to your ass and he squeezes the mounds roughly, pushing you further against his mouth. He licks and sucks, when you feel the bite of his nails against your skin, you finally come undone. 
Your knees threaten to give out under you, the only thing holding you upright being the two stunning people consuming you. Tess smiles against your skin, kissing and licking the salt of your skin. Meanwhile, Joel moans rather loudly, licking everything you have to offer as you come, come and come some more. You’ve never felt anything this intense before. The air is knocked from your lungs, your body ice cold yet burning up at the same time. 
You’re vaguely aware of Joel standing, the man who was worshipping you between your legs suddenly towering over you. He has a small smile as he leans in, you think he’s going to kiss the slope of your shoulder first but then you hear the soft sounds of two lips coming together. With the corner of your eyes, you see them. Tess and Joel kissing, their tongues sliding into each other's mouth, sharing your taste—
“Fuck,” you whisper, your cunt throbbing. They both smile, lips curving in an almost malicious way. As they break apart, Tess licks Joel’s lips, her eyes find yours. 
“Someone’s still hungry for more,” she teases, slowly stripping. “Get on all fours for us, princess.” 
You swallow and do as she says. You feel Joel’s large hands cup the mounds of your ass, squeezing tenderly. “Beautiful,” he rasps. “Such a goddamn sight.” 
Your back arches into his touch. He drags two thick fingers between your folds as Tess lays down, spreading her legs. Your eyes immediately drop to her center, the soft hair that crowns her pretty pussy. You see her glisten with want and your mouth waters. 
“Don’t be shy now,” she smiles. “Have a taste.” 
Her fingers curl around the back of your neck and at the same time, you feel the head of Joel’s cock stretching you wide. Your eyes roll as you part your lips, Tess moans loudly when your tongue swirls around her puffy clit. You can’t think straight. Joel buries himself deep holding himself there for a second before pulling back and slamming forward. Your moan into Tess’s cunt, your lips parting away briefly every he pulls himself back. 
“Best cunt I’ve ever had,” he grunts through clenched teeth. “How does it feel sweetheart? You enjoyin’ yourself?” 
You flatten your tongue against Tess’s folds and moan, your body clenching. 
“She is,” Tess answers on your behalf, breathless. “Such a sweet girl letting us use her like this.” 
Your eyes close tightly shut, sweat drips down your spine, your body a vessel of pleasure. Every muscle in your body tightens, and you hear both of them groan. You close your lips around Tess’s clit and flick your tongue, her head falls, gushing into your mouth. Joel’s watches intently, his cock pulsing and throbbing, his hand comes against the back of your head and he pushes you further down. 
“Good girl,” he growls, the pace of his thrusts becoming sloppy. “Fuck, that’s it, lick her clean.” 
Tess moans again, the loud sounds becoming whimpers. You can barely breathe but you don’t care. With one final thrusts you come undone around Joel’s cock, your body squeezing him like a vice. 
When the violent shudders of your body become gentle waves, Joel pulls out. Your head falls limply against Tess’s stomach, her hand gently rubbing your neck. A soft gasp leaves you when you see Joel shuffling closer, his cock still hard and glistening. You watch as he strokes himself only mere inches away from your face, the head of his cock an angry shade of red. 
You stick out your tongue as he spills himself over your face and Tess’s stomach. Another pulse of pleasure spreads throughout your body. Tess let’s out a deep sigh, gathering some of the come with her fingers, she pushes them between your lips. 
“Fuck,” Joel sighs, sitting back on his heels. A small smile forms against your lips as you suck on Tess’s fingers, when she pulls them out, you dip your tongue into the mess over her stomach and swallow every drop. 
“Filthy girl,” Tess muses. “And here I’ve been callin’ you princess.” 
“Your fault,” you mumble, looking away, your cheeks burn. 
Joel leans in, capturing your lips before whispering. 
“Don’t pout. You’ll always be our princess.” 
496 notes · View notes
guiltyasdave · 8 months ago
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glitch
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pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader
word count: ~1k
summary: Prequel to nights are so starry, blood moonlit. How you and Javi became neighbors with benefits.
warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), smoking, alcohol consumption, able-bodied reader, a hint of dom!Javi, unprotected p in v, kinda rough sex, ass slaps, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), Javi is a menace, a hint of angst and feelings because of who i am as a person
a/n: written for @iamasaddie’s writing challenge 2.0 with the prompt "never knew you were such a freak", and since my first story about these two was also part of one of aly's writing challenges, it just made sense to revisit them :)
dividers as always by @saradika-graphics <3
find my full masterlist here and follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates!
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It had started out with fleeting glances in the hallway, quick greetings when your apartment doors opened at the same time, then short conversations on your adjoining balconies, late night talks with your feet propped up on the railing and his back leaning against it, sometimes exchanging a cigarette or a light, or occasionally a bottle of beer when one of you had run out. 
Of course you noticed the ridiculously tight jeans that really shouldn't look that good on him, the way his broad shoulders strained against his clothes, and the way his shirts always revealed a little too much of his golden-skinned chest. You couldn't deny the fact that your neighbor was incredibly attractive, and that he knew it. 
You probably should have said no when late one evening, after Javi had found you on your balcony, smoking and watching the glistening city lights, he invited you to share a glass of bourbon. Together. At his place. 
He had been flirting with you, which you suspected he did with every woman he met, and you had tried not to pay it any mind, but you were well aware of how this evening would end if you accepted. 
You should have said no, and a stronger, less lonely version of you might have, but you craved human contact, craved to be touched by someone else than yourself, and if the sounds that traveled through the thin walls from his bedroom to yours frequently enough were any indication, Javi knew what he was doing. 
You should have said no, because it became clear to you very quickly that Javier Peña would ruin you for all other men.
He was more gentle, more caring than you had expected him to be and he prioritized your pleasure in a way that you had never experienced from any man before. He took you to heights that you hadn’t thought possible before, and it was addicting.
You should have said no, but you hadn’t, and now you keep coming back for more. 
You keep coming back for the way his skin tastes under your tongue, for the way his lips press against yours, swallowing moans and whimpers, for the way his fingers and his cock reach so deep inside of you that you still feel him hours later, when you have said your good nights and crawled under the covers of your own bed. Never his, never crossing the line to a different kind of intimacy.
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It’s another one of those nights, a soft knock on a door, a mutual understanding passing between you, gentle touches that burned under your skin until they got more demanding, until you both gave in to that pull that kept you coming back. 
He’s already made you come on his tongue twice, until you were dripping onto his sheets, his name the only word in your mind and on your lips. You’re on your hands and knees, limbs shaking, trying to accommodate his length and the harsh rhythm that he’s setting. 
“Taking me so fucking well,” he pants, running his hands down your back and over your ass. You chase his touch, goosebumps forming in its wake, your moans filling the air as he keeps hitting impossibly deep inside of you. 
His palm connects with your skin, nothing more than a playful swat, but the sensation sears through you, lighting your nerve endings on fire as you all but scream your pleasure into the softly lit bedroom.
“Oh?” His voice is low, rough in his throat. You don’t need to turn your head and look behind you to know that he’s smirking down at you right now. “You liked that, huh?” 
You nod eagerly, too far gone to be ashamed of the way your hips are bucking back against him, working desperately to feel him deeper inside of you. 
He slaps you again, harder this time, and you feel yourself clenching around him, feel the way a new wave of slick is coating his cock. His fingers dig into your shoulder and he pulls you up, until your torso is pressed against his, his mouth moving against the delicate skin of your neck. 
“Never knew you were such a freak, baby,” he whispers, his lips curling into a grin, teeth nipping at you.
“Shut up.” You try to hold your voice steady, ignore the throbbing need between your thighs, but he just chuckles and presses another kiss against the side of your throat before he loosens his hold and pushes you back towards the mattress. 
His hands grab your hips instead, pulling you into his thrusts, filling you so deeply that you see stars behind your eyelids.
“You want me to do it again?” You hate how smug he sounds, would love to deny him the satisfaction, but god, you do want him to. 
“Fuck– please, Javi.” You’re breathless, reduced to a mess of trembling thighs and desperate whimpers, and you wish that you could stay like this forever. 
He slaps your ass twice in quick succession and deepens his thrusts at the same time, punching all air from your lungs. His hand snakes down to graze your clit and you’re overwhelmed with sensations, pure pleasure coursing through your veins so suddenly that it’s almost disorienting. You collapse onto the sheets, your pussy pulsing around him as your body shakes through its third orgasm of the night and you’re whimpering his name as he buries himself deep inside of you and comes with a groan, painting your insides with his release. 
After more kisses, more touches, and a shared cigarette, you get dressed and eventually, his apartment door clicks shut behind you. You lean your back against the wall, closing your eyes and breathing deeply for a moment before you enter your own place.
Again, you know that you’ll be coming back for more. And that no matter how many times you come back, it will never be enough.
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thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!
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adverbally · 4 months ago
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Conversations with Dead People
Written for the @steddieangstyaugust prompt “Ghosts” | wc: 1,159 | rated: T | cw: past major character death, brief passive suicidal ideation | tags: grief, not a fix-it, Eddie is Dead | title from the Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode that inspired this fic (season 7, episode 7)
This takes place in an AU where Steve and Eddie have been together since shortly after the events of season 3. The events of season 4 happen as they do in canon.
———
He’s not really a ghost, Eleven had explained. It’s more like residual psychic energy that Eddie left behind when he died. An echo, lingering, a telepathic reverberation of his soul or brain waves or whatever made him Eddie. Him, but not. It’s a distinction that Steve can’t seem to make, not when he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor of his living room in front of El, waiting for her to make contact.
“Eddie?” Steve asks tentatively. “Are you there?”
El is quiet behind her blindfold for a moment. “He says, ‘Hey, Stevie.’”
He doesn’t know what he was expecting but shock forces a laugh out of him, too loud and a little wet. “Hey, Eds.” He hasn’t said those words in months but it still feels natural, like a reflex. “I miss you.”
“He misses you too. He sounds sad but he’s smiling,” El reports matter of factly.
“You can see him?” Somehow this might be the thing that breaks Steve, the longing and the fear of seeing him again twisting in his gut. “Is he– does he look–”
“He looks normal. Not hurt. But he says you look like shit.”
Eddie can see him, Eddie is okay, Eddie is trying to joke around to make him feel better, Eddie is so close but out of reach and… Steve’s face crumples.
He can’t do this. Why is he doing this? Hope and despair are warring in a sticky lump in his throat, choking him until he can’t speak. He’s wasting his chance to talk to Eddie again. He doesn’t want to talk to him, he wants to feel him, cold hands and strong arms and sharp teeth and soft lips. He wants him back. He wants to be with him.
“‘Don’t cry, baby.’” The words are soft and clunky coming from El’s mouth but Steve knows exactly how Eddie must sound on the other side.
The sob he was suppressing rips its way out of him. “I miss you,” he says again, stupidly, but he can’t think of anything else. He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes like they can stem the flood of tears now that they have begun. “I miss you so much.”
The static on the radio is the only response for long seconds before El says, “He’s crying now. He says he’s sorry. Not sorry he did it but sorry it turned out like this.”
Steve shakes his head. Any real anger he felt toward Eddie had been short lived, but the reminder stings. “You had to be a hero, huh?”
“‘It was worth it to keep you safe.’”
He tries not to think too hard about how much he wishes he could’ve switched places with Eddie. Eddie wouldn’t have let him, of course, stubborn as he is. Was. Is? Steve clears his throat before asking, “Are you… okay?”
It’s a stupid question. How can Eddie be okay? What could Steve do about it anyway? Thankfully Eddie seems to understand what he was trying to ask.
“‘I’m still dead, sweetheart,’” Eddie-El says, almost apologetically. “‘But I’m okay. I’m not in pain, I’m safe. It’s not like being in the Upside Down. It’s peaceful.’”
“Okay. That’s good,” Steve says, almost to himself.
El tilts her head like she’s listening. “He says he watches out for you.”
God, what must Eddie have seen over the past three months? How many nights had Steve sobbed himself to sleep, clutching Eddie’s pillow and trying to memorize its fading scent? How often had Steve put on a brave face to comfort Dustin and reassure him that Eddie’s death wasn’t his fault? How many times had Steve gone to visit Wayne, both of them sitting at the kitchen table while they cried into their cups of coffee and silently mourned the way that the trailer seemed so damn empty without Eddie there to fill it?
“‘Are you okay?’” El asks on Eddie’s behalf.
“We’re just trying to keep it together. It’s…” Steve wipes his nose on the sleeve of his hoodie. It was Eddie’s hoodie, actually, but Steve kept stealing it. It’s soft and it smells good! You’re never getting it back! he had laughed. Now it smells more like Steve than Eddie and he couldn’t give it back even if he wanted to. “It’s really fucking hard without you.”
“‘You’re always looking out for everyone else. Promise me you’ll take care of yourself?’” The inflection of it sounds like goodbye, like all those mornings of Eddie gearing up to head back to the trailer before Wayne noticed, like Steve begging for just one more kiss before Eddie left.
But there’s something final in it this time that makes panic surge in Steve’s chest.
“Nonono, don’t go, you can’t– you just got here, you can’t just leave,” he babbles, wishing Eddie had a physical presence he could hold on to. The logical part of Steve’s mind knew that this was only temporary, that any echo will eventually fade, but he hadn’t realized it would be so soon.
“‘I wish I could stay.’” El sounds so sad when she speaks for him.
Steve presses his hands to his mouth, tries to hold in the terrible sound of his grief until Eddie isn’t there to hear it anymore. He takes a deep breath and tries to keep his voice level despite the tears streaming down his face. “Will I see you again?”
“‘Hopefully not for a long, long time.’”
He thinks of the past three months, thinks of going through that three more times to make a year, then all of that over and over for as many years as he has left… It sounds like pure torture.
“‘Promise me,’” Eddie-El insists.
“I promise.” Steve’s voice breaks, but he tries to crack a smile when he remembers Eddie can see him. “Stay out of trouble?”
Even before El says, “He laughed at that,” Steve is picturing Eddie’s head tossed back with the force of his guffaw, his dark eyes glimmering with amusement. It settles something in him.
“I love you,” Steve says, snotty and shaky but as solemn as a wedding vow.
The radio stutters then, sounding like it’s flipping through frequencies on its own. When the jumble of static and indistinct speech stops, Steve hears Eddie’s voice, loud and clear, for the first time since March.
“I love you, Steve Harrington,” he announces. Soft and warm like spending a lazy morning in bed. Bright and smiley like adoring someone in a way that can’t be hidden. Exhilarated and awed like collapsing together in a sweaty, spent heap. Bittersweet like a kiss goodnight, like a little white lie, like a promise that has to be broken.
Steve feels that voice surrounding him, crashing over and through him. He shuts his eyes and hugs himself, tries to hold himself together, until the radio shuts itself off.
Then, in the echoing silence of his living room, Steve lets himself fall to pieces.
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hedwig221b · 1 month ago
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Do you have recs for omegaverse? Or some of your favorites on hand? I've read and loved everything you've shared and written so far and I just can't get enough! :D
I love abo so much and I'm proud to say it. Here's probably the longest fic rec list I've made...
Feral Formalities by Aleandri
"There was silence as no one seemed to breath at the table.
Derek had just gifted Stiles, an unmated Omega, with food.
Right in front of another Alpha.
Who he was on a date with.
To discuss being heat partners…."
In which, Stiles presents as Omega, and everyone wants a piece of the alpha-baby-making ass!
Hung The Moon by BurnItAllClean (nrnyx)
Slowly Stiles got control of himself again. His heart calmed. His breathing evened out. The anger was gone. In its place, a bone-deep weariness settled. He couldn’t do this. He wouldn’t survive this.
Meant to be One by sunhazeheart
His nerves felt like a live wire was running hot beneath his skin, hands fidgeting with the silken material of his robe. If he had the concentration to spare, he might had worried about tearing it.
It was all he could do to sit there at the vanity, eyes squeezed shut, and try to give in the constricting pressure around his chest that said that he was about to fall into a panic attack.
Breath in. Breath out. His own heartbeat rushed in his ears.
Being mated to the reclusive king with a frightening reputation to his name, bundled away from his home and father, and then surrounded by underwhelmingly distant faces hiding secrets was not how Stiles Stilinski imagine spending his life soon after turning eighteen. He can only remind himself that it is for the good of his people, both old and newly acquired. But, perhaps first assumptions are made too hastily and a fated match can be made, even surrounded by threats of war, revenge and death’s waiting embrace.
My Wolf by Dexterous_Sinistrous
“If he wants to mate Stiles, why not let him?” Jackson asked, ready to part with Stiles if need be.
“Because if I did that, I’d be demoting Lydia,” Alpha Stilinski replied.
“We don’t even know how good of a Beta he is,” Lydia countered, bristling some that her status was being challenged.
“That’s because he’s not a Beta,” Alpha Stilinski stated. “He’s an Alpha.”
Love's Violent Delights by Dexterous_Sinistrous
Derek caught the way the man’s eyes looked over Stiles before lingering on his ass. He waited for the clerk to place the key on the counter before he reacted.
Stiles startled at the loud noise, turning away from the pamphlets in the display box to see Derek pinning the clerk’s head against the counter. He drew in an even breath, looking between the struggling man and Derek.
Derek briefly looked at Stiles, hesitating before he saw the gleam of excitement in Stiles’ eyes and the hint of lust in his scent. “Ever look at him, or any other Omega, like that again, and I’ll slice your eyes out with my claws.” He shoved the man back, not caring of the commotion that was made as he snatched up the key from the counter.
All Derek Ever Wanted by Dexterous_Sinistrous
Stiles knew Derek always wanted a big family. And, for the longest time, he thought he'd be the one to give it to him. Life, devastatingly, has other plans.
Prompt: "I've been thinking about omega stiles n alpha derek. They're trying to hav a baby. But one day stiles go to the doc, n he imply that stiles can't get pregnant. Stiles keep it secret and try to make derek divorce him."
Summer Contest by kits_lightning
The moment Derek stepped into the fighting ring and faced Stiles he remembered why he was doing all of this.
The omega gawked at him and barely paid attention to the other competitors Talia was mentioning and Derek smiled at the thought of having all of his attention. Stiles blushed from the tips of his ears to his neck and began to run his fingers through his hair while looking away.
Derek began to wonder how far down that blush traveled when he shook his head and tried to focus on the imminent battle. He caught the last of what his mother was saying. “—have a good fight and good luck.” More clapping and the horn that signaled the beginning of the fight sounded.
The Alpha and his Spark by sandyde03
Stiles is pregnant. Derek is perpetually horny and possessive. Stiles is confused. Not by Derek sexing him up. He loves that. It’s the fact that ever since he started to show that he was with pup everyone has been avoiding his eyes.
The Best Things in the World Must be Felt with the Heart by solostsobroken
The Argent family had been kidnapping and illegally selling omegas for years. When FBI Agent Derek Hale and his team go and raid their home, they find, rescue and free dozens of omegas. That was ALL Derek had expected to be doing. What he hadn't expected was to find his own mate, Stiles, chained up with the rest of them. Seeing the omega severely sick and injured, Derek is determined to nurse him back to health. As he slowly learns more about his mate, he stumbles upon a mystery from Stiles' past that may just turn into the biggest case of his lifetime. Derek is determined to figure it out, no matter how long it takes.
The Hills Call
Five years ago, Prince Derek of the Hale Empire had fallen for the son of a Baron, Genim of Stilinski. His mother had not approved, and after some time imprisoned Genim escaped to the Dukedom of the Shore, where he was taken in by Duke Christopher and Lady Allison. Now, Prince Derek is on his deathbed from a poisoning and it is up to Genim, now called Stiles, to nurse him back to health. Wary of the Hale Empire, Stiles returns with their young son to see if he can heal Derek of his illness and escape the threats he still feels from the Empress herself.
Waiting Games by Jerakeen
Being an only child and heir to the throne, Stiles had always known he may not have the luxury of marrying for love. When he’d realized he was an omega to boot, things had taken an even more uncomfortable turn for him.
Omegas are rare. An omega as the heir apparent is almost unheard of.
Which is why there is no wiggle room when it comes to the tournament.
Wants & Needs by MadcapRomantic
Derek Hale has been participating in the Beacon Hills Mating Run for a decade, each year coming up without a mate. His mother, convinced this is his lucky year, persuades him to run one last time.
Enter Stiles, a young Omega with an unwanted Alpha nipping at his heels.
Family or not, Peter is determined to have Stiles.
But convinced they are True Mates, there isn't anything Derek won't do to keep Stiles safe.
When All the Pieces Fit by NARKOTIKA
"Does he even realize? With the cooking and cleaning andandand—now this fucking baby?" Isaac fumes.
Said baby waves its fist in the air, and Stiles bends to haul him onto a hip. The baby babbles something and Stiles nods his head with complete seriousness, as if everything out of its mouth is perfectly sensible and coherent. Then the kid starts mouthing at Stiles' nipple through his dress and everyone goes dead silent.
"I'm going to wife him so hard," Ethan announces, and they all break out into argument over who has the best chance at mating the boy in the river.
Under the Golden Moon by NARKOTIKA
Derek doesn't know how long he sits in his wolf skin, on his haunches, observing Stiles as the sunbeams slant through the trees and cast slashes of light across the omega's willowy form. The boy has his feet in the water, a babe on his hip, a bright smile on his face as the other younglings splash around and soak his garb. The creamy skin of his thighs peek out from the slits running down the sides of his draping skirt, and Derek has never wanted anything more than he wants this beautiful being of the woods.
Angel Choirs and Magic by LadyDrace
Derek has been very, very patient, and has shown frankly incredible self-control in the face of brutal teasing and flirting for two months. But now it's time for the mating run, and he's about to get his reward.
Except for how maybe it's actually Stiles getting a treat.
Win/win.
Where the Shadow Ends by Green
Derek goes undercover to Delphi to figure out what's wrong with the oracle. He doesn't mean to fall in love.
Pride and Place by DarkAthena (seraphim_grace)
Derek Hale, Earl of Osterbrook, has inherited, following the death of Lord Montfort, a run down house in Yorkshire he neither needs nor wants, convinced his staff are robbing him, and with the mystery of a missing ward, he manages to get himself talked into a ridiculous bet, that he cannot pass as a steward until Midwinter, nearly two months away. So can he maintain the charade? Find the missing child? and manage to turn the shambles of a house around, or will he give up and let Peter take the thousand pounds he bet.
Are You the One? by Venrajade
Derek's sister works for a television network with a dating show that claims that they are able to find someone's True Mate. Cora steals a scent sample from Derek and matches him to an Omega applying to the show with a 99% chance of them being mates.
Which means Derek is now a reality dating show star. Shit.
And the Cold Pulls You Down by blacktofade
“Do you believe in ghosts?” Stiles asks Derek one night after he’s settled into bed, listening to the sound of Derek brushing his teeth in the bathroom.
“Ghosts?” Derek asks, voice muffled by toothbrush and paste as he stands in the doorway to stare at Stiles. Or, the one where Stiles is 99.9% sure their house is haunted and no one believes him.
Build Us a Home by Sourwolf and Stilinski (Kitsune_Moonstar)
When it came time for Stiles to take his tour, he hadn't expected that many alphas to try and court him with the houses they built. And he hadn't dreamed Derek Hale might build him a home that suited them both.
Made Your Mark on Me (A Golden Tattoo) by writteninthewolfstar
Beacon Hills High and Lycan Heights High are well-known enemies. Derek Hale, Lycan Heights' star quarter-back, is well-known for being aggressive and arrogant.
Imagine Stiles surprise when he discovers that Derek Hale is actually his soul-mate.
Knot Thinking With Your Head by KnottheWolf
The first time Sam met Stiles he had no idea who the Omega was, nor did he have any clue that the Omega was already in a series relationship. When he met Stiles, he was hungover and had a massive pounding headache that was killing him to have his eyes open. The Alpha instantly ran to the nearest bathroom to puke in the toilet, before splashing cold water in his face and sighing with relief when the pain was barely there anymore.
Flushing the toilet he left the bathroom so he could make himself a cup of coffee, and then start figuring out how to make the best first impression with the other Alpha’s in the fraternity.
Now all he wanted to do, when he spotted the Omega was get all up on that cute ass.
A 5 + 1 things kind of fic
Empty by modestfuckup
Stiles stops listening to the words the doctor is saying, a stream of tears rolling down his face. His training taught him he has to remain calm. He uses a tissue to blot at the tears as his mind already turns to what is going to happen now. The doctor is talking about his options, and treatments he could undergo, but Stiles knows none of that will work.
He’s infertile.
With no way to supply his alpha with an heir, he is practically useless.
Or the one where Stiles is an infertile omega, and society dictates that if an omega is unable to carry on the alpha's lineage, an alpha is allowed to take another omega. Stiles hides his condition from Derek while he copes and starts the process of finding a new omega for him.
Elskende by DarkAthena (seraphim_grace)
Stiles is an omega concubine, kept sequestered away in the city of Beacon Hills, waiting for his lord Gerard Argent when the Wulver take the city and the alpha takes the omega.
Sex and Violence by halcyon1993
Derek is a feared mafia boss. Stiles gets turned on watching him work.
The Spoils of War by halcyon1993
Alpha Derek is a commander in the Roman Army, tasked with pillaging settlements to claim them for his own people. When he comes across a pretty young Omega during his latest conquest, he can't resist taking him as his personal prize.
Cut to the Bone by standinginanicedress
“Not that it’s any of your god damn business, but my name is Stiles. Do you need something?”
The alpha grins. All teeth, shiny white, straight as an arrow. He’s got this sculpted perfection to him that Stiles is sure has worked on all the omegas he’s ever encountered before, but Stiles stands his ground and narrows his eyes. “A date.”
Stiles looks him up and down, slowly, from the black shoes on his feet, to his uniform khakis and blazer littered with pins, to his face. He frowns, makes a face, and says, “pass.”
Helen of Troy by standinginanicedress
Stiles can fake laugh, fake smile. He can play coy and he can be demure and barely eat anything in front of them, and he can sit still and do his little song and dance of feigning interest.
But this is a little out of his scope. They want him to fully become someone else. They want him to be who everyone wants him to be, and it scares the shit out of Stiles, because he doesn’t know if he can do it for hours and hours while cameras watch his every single move. It’s a lot. It’s more than he bargained for.
And, for a cherry on top:
Yes To Heaven
Stiles ruined him. The damage was irreparable. He didn’t want the food that wasn’t made by Stiles or shared with him; the water tasted stale; the clothes were asphyxiating and scratchy; the air was wrong, wrong without Stiles’ scent in it.
Fuck, what was wrong with him? How could that pretty little thing change him so much? He had an iron grip on his control before, being in tandem with his instincts, but within weeks, all of it was gone. As soon as he thought of Stiles, though, of his scent, his moans, and the little wrinkle on his forehead as he orgasmed, his mind settled.
What was life before Stiles? Everything was somewhere far, far away, forgotten, bleak, and meaningless. Derek thought he knew what light was as he looked at the microscopic dots of the stars above. Then Stiles came into his life and showed him the sun.
Take Me Away From Here
Derek Hale looked terrifying. With his broad frame and muscles, with his wild black hair and thick beard, with his eyes the color of blood and fangs of a killer. Despite his kindness and his apparent attraction to Stiles, he was still a stranger, a predator, a wolf.
The thing is, Stiles would deal, but others might not. People found Lord Hale horrid, monstrous and unapproachable.
If Stiles stood behind him, no one would touch him. He’d be safe with the wolf. If not from him, then definitely from everyone else. And that was enough.
Other fic recs: pack mom!Stiles | angsty fics | historical AU | baby/mpreg | outsider POV | possessive Derek | smut | hurt/comfort | magical Stiles | mafia | Stiles gets kicked out of the pack | BAMF!Stiles | witch!Stiles
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thebestofoneshots · 8 months ago
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Waiting For a Girl Like You | wolfstar x reader
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Pairing: R.L.. x S.B. x Gn!Reader (originally written as a woman but then I discovered I hadn't used any pronouns, and the reader was not particularly feminine, so it became my first official GN) Word Count: 5 k Warnings: None Prompt: Unbeknownst to many, your birthday has always been a quiet affair, you don't often celebrate it and you certainly weren't expecting for things to change the moment you met those two, enimagtic boys on your Creative Writing course. You could have not been more mistaken.
I got two requests a couple of weeks ago and I could not fulfil them on time for the life of me. Dear @msblacklupin and @propertyofrjl sent me similar requests about a certain birthday fic and first of all, Guys your birthdays are on the same day, How cool is that!?! Second, I'm so sorry I took so long, but it's finally here!
I decided to combine the prompts since I thought it would be really cute for the story, and this is what I've come up with.
Hope you enjoy, darlings! I'm wishing you all the best! xx Lils
Written for @msblacklupin and @propertyofrjl
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You hadn’t had the best experience with birthdays so far. Back in your hometown, it was the same day as a special celebration of the discovery of the mines and they held a huge, town-wide party for it. The party was great, a fair, balloons, cotton candy, everything great, everything kids loved. Unfortunately, it was so good that people tended to forget about your birthday since they were excited about Mining Day. 
Of course, people close to you remembered (your parents), but even though you had told your friends plenty of times that your birthday was on the same day, it had slipped their minds a good deal of times. You tried to make parties and people would prefer going to see the guest singer invited to the festival. You'd make them the next day and they were too tired to come. 
Eventually, you just gave up on celebrating your own birthday and decided to join the rest on Mining Day, enjoying the candies and everything in between. It might have not been your special day but it was a special day and that was as good as you’d get. Or so you thought. 
When you moved to London for university, you didn’t even think about telling your friends about your birthday, and they hadn’t asked either. That was until you took that Creative Writing side course and met them. You had been on time but the room had been filled to the brim with students, and there was nowhere to sit. You’d huffed and were about to leave to ask for a chair from a different classroom but when you turned around you bumped into the prettiest person your eyes had ever laid eyes upon, piercing grey eyes, long wavy hair, and features so elegant he looked royal.
He smiled, such a pretty smile. “Hey, you were going for one of these? I brought extra,” he said as he pulled one of the chairs up to signal what he was talking about. 
“Yeah,” you said shily. 
“Cool, come along then,” he said and you moved out of the way as he moved with the chairs. He moved his chairs all the way to a table where there was another stunning person sitting down. “What’s your name, Luv?” You replied with your name, soft and polite. “Pretty,” he said, flashing that same smile your way, meaning both you and your name, not that you knew. He accommodated the chairs, one next to each other, wiped his hands on his black jeans and then extended his hand to you. “Sirius Black.” 
You shook his hand and then the other boy’s warm smile caught your eye. “Remus Lupin,” he said with his hand extended as well. He had scars all over his body, but it didn’t make him any less handsome. Were you curious about them? Of course, you were. Were you gonna ask? No way in hell.
The boys had met each other at a boarding school in Scotland and had moved to London recently. Remus wanted to take a lit class and tried to convince his friends to join him but Sirius didn’t love the idea of a class where he’d have to read and analyse books, so he suggested taking something more on the creative side. 
Remus found the Writing Course and Sirius had been more than happy to join him. You and Remus actually had a lot in common, you discovered as the class went on. You had both read a lot, and you veered towards the same authors and storylines. You had an insane passion for Oscar Wilde and he loved Mary Shelly. You sometimes wondered if he liked her so much because of the way she described the Fiend, you truly hoped that wasn’t it, because while you could see how Rem would relate to the monster, you hated the idea of it, since you considered him absolutely stunning. 
Days had gone by, and while you always sat with the boys and hung out with them every time you saw them at school, you hadn’t really seen them outside of it, that was until you got a group assignment and Sirius was quick to place his arms around both you and Rem and claim you as his team. 
Remus scribbled your names on a piece of paper and handed them over to the teacher before she assigned each of you a different subject for your story. You got fantasy. The boys seemed to be diverted when you started talking about mythical creatures and wizards, and you assumed it had something to do with an inside joke they developed through the years of knowing each other.
They invited you over to their apartment that was just next to a corner cafe cleverly named “The Corner” and you had stopped by to get something for you and the boys, since you weren’t sure how long it would take and were now waiting just outside the door to their apartment complex. 
“We’re coming, Sweets,” Sirius’ voice said through the speakers as the door buzzed open to let you in. 
You used your shoulder to push inside and carefully moved the carton with the three coffee cups inside as you entered, your backpack strap got caught in the door and you were forced to turn around to and you opened the door again, placing the paper bag with fresh bread on your mouth to free one of your hands and pulled the strap free. 
When you turned around, you were shocked to find a smiling Sirius right in front of your face. “You shouldn’t have bothered, Luv!” he said and extended his hand towards your mouth, taking the paper bag and then the carton with the coffee from your hand.
“I wanted to,” you said simply. 
Sirius and you went up the stairs, Remus was waiting by the door and the two of them welcomed you in. For an apartment belonging to two boys, it was surprisingly neat. Remus had arranged his coffee table with a few cushions over the rug so you all could sit together, he had a couple of pens and pencils, his notebook and a stunning Remington Typewriter. 
You almost walked straight to look at it when you spotted it on the table, “This is her, isn’t it?” 
“Yeah,” Remus said as he sat beside you. “Wanna try it?” 
“Can I please?” you asked, you had a Brother one at your apartment, and you adored her, but Remingtons were classics. His was from the 50s and it looked brand new. Rather than responding, Remus placed a paper through the platen and pushed it towards you. 
Since you didn’t actually have a plan to write something, you just typed the boys’ Name and then yours, right at the top of the paper. 
“What are we going to write then? Any ideas?” 
“Didn’t you say you wanted to talk about wizards?” Sirius asked with a smile. 
“But do you want to?”
He chuckled, “Of course, Sweets, we’d love to go for that.” He reclined his head on the sofa. “We’ve actually discussed it, and we have some ideas, don’t we Moony?” 
Remus shot a look at Sirius, who winked in return. 
“Yeah?” You asked as you turned your gaze to Sirius. “For the plot?”
“Mhm… hear me out. It’s a hidden school for wizards, you get there by taking a secret train hidden at King’s Cross. The school is full of magic and mysteries and ghosts and other magical creatures.” 
You frowned, “I don’t know… it sounds a little too surrealistic, doesn’t it?”
Sirius laughed at your statement and Remus threw pillow towards his face, you squirmed in your seat a little uncomfortably and then Rem placed his hand on your shoulder, “It’s okay, Dove. We don’t have to go for Sirius’ idea.”
“But he said you wanted to write about it too…”
“I’ll be happy with whatever we make. I know with our writing skills and Sirius’ creativity we’ll make something brilliant.” 
You pulled out your notebook and checked the list of ideas for the story you had to write. It had to be at least 50k words and you had three weeks to finish it. So the three of you would have to get writing as soon as possible, which meant you had to define the story and you had to define it fast. Most of your ideas were either unfinished, not doable in such a short time or had the opportunity to be integrated into Sirius’ magic school. 
“Okay, tell me more about your Wizard’s school.” 
Sirius smiled, threw a look at Remus –a satisfied sort of look– before turning back to you, “Okay, so the name is Wartshow: School for Wizardry and Witchcraft, and–“ 
“Doesn’t Witchcraft and Wizardry sound better, though?” 
Sirius licked his lips and smiled. “All right then, Wartshow: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” You wrote it down in your notebook. 
“It’s the story about a boy, a boy that thought they wouldn’t be able to assist even though he was a wizard.” 
“Sirius,” Remus said in a warning tone. 
“Shut up Moony, you’ll kill my inspiration.” 
“Why did he think that?” You asked. 
“Because he was bitten by a werewolf when he was 4.”
 Remus scoffed and stood up, “I’ll bring the snacks.” 
“Is he okay?” you asked. 
“He’s not a fan of my story,” Sirius said. “He says the main character is not a hero, but I differ.” 
You hummed in response. “What’s the boy’s name?” 
“Re- Andrew,” he said, “Andrew Renault.” 
“Renault? Is he french?” 
“No, I don’t– he is not.” 
“Okay, then we should go for a more English name, like… Remington?” 
“Andrew Remington? Sounds posh.” 
“As if  Sirius Black sounded less posh,” you joked and he scoffed playfully at you. He continued listing his ideas, telling you Remus’ story although he had changed the names of almost everyone. “Will there be dragons?” you asked after he had laid out the basic idea.
 “Dragons? Those are dangerous!” 
“Of course they are, but it’s more exciting than the…ugh” –you checked your notes– “boggart monster you mentioned.” 
“Dragons are definitely more exciting than Boggarts,” Remus said as he sat on the floor next to you. You couldn’t help but notice his scars, perhaps Sirius had used those as inspiration for Andrew. 
“Okay, so we’ll add dragons. What if there’s a dragon in the dungeons?” 
“No, in the dungeons there are snakes,” Sirius said as if it were a fact. He had clearly thought this out. 
“Okay… what about a secret room in the castle that has dragons? It’s magical, right? It could be bigger on the inside, like the TARDIS.” 
“The what?” Sirius asked, confused. 
“The TARDIS! From Doctor Who?” you said as if it were a fact, he still looked confused. “You do know what I’m talking about, right Rem?” 
“Is it a book?” he asked. 
“A book? How do you even call yourself Brits if you don’t know about Doctor Who? That’s it, Sunday, my house, we’re watching a marathon.” 
“Whatever you want, dove,” Remus said and handed you a piece of chocolate. 
“So, going back to the story. A room that’s bigger on the inside. Like a… Chamber of Secrets?”
“Sirius,” Remus warned again. 
“It’s what she said!” Sirius said defensively. 
After that, you finished plotting the small story in between the three, even with the slight reluctance you detected from Remus, you got around to defining all of your main characters, the challenges they’d go through and the resolution of the story. 
“By the way, tomorrow is our flatmate James’ birthday,” Sirius said as he closed the notepad he’d been writing on. “Wanna come to the party?” 
“I don’t think I’ve met James, though.” 
“It’s fine, he’ll love to meet you I’m sure,” Remus said. “When is your birthday?” 
“I–“ you hesitated, “I don’t really celebrate it.” 
“Why not? We should definitely celebrate the day you were brought into this world,” Sirius said. 
You smiled, Sirius could be the sweetest sometimes. “I don’t do parties…” 
“Because you don’t want to?” 
“No! It’s just… long story, don’t bother yourselves with it.” 
“I’ll tell you a secret,” Sirius offered. “In exchange, you give me your birthday, how about that?” 
You laughed, Sirius wasn’t the type to care too much about things, so you walked towards him and whispered the date in his ear. 
“Now yours?” you said as he leaned closer to you. 
“It’s all real, we are magicians from the school in our story,” he whispered. 
You laughed. “I thought you’d tell me a real secret, should have known,” you added as you shoved him, he just laughed and shrugged in response, as if he was saying it’s your loss, for not believing his lie. 
After that day, you hung out with them almost all the time, be it to watch movies, to continue that Doctor Who marathon, or to hang out with the boys on their birthdays. In fact, it was almost odd if you didn’t see each other in more than a couple of days, since they would find almost any reason to meet, Sirius would call and say ‘Hey, there’s a new movie I want to see, you coming with us?’
Or Remus would leave a note on your mailbox telling you to come with him to a library later that day since he had just finished the book he was reading and you were always the best at finding the right books. 
So. of course, you thought it was odd when, on the morning of your birthday, you called their apartment and got no response. Now you weren’t expecting a grandiose party, you weren’t even going to get a cake or anything, but you wanted to see them, maybe go out for dinner, or have a cinema night. You rang them again and still no answer. 
You sighed and walked towards school. You didn’t have that creative writing course today so you weren’t expecting to see them there, but perhaps on the lunch break, you’d find them in your usual spot. 
Your classes were rather tedious, an old professor that spoke very quietly and you had to sit at the very front to even hear him, and then another professor who almost always went over the same thing you’d seen in the first class. Always, round and round the same thing, with nothing new. At least you’d have a class with Professor Almain before lunch. It was your favourite class of the semester –aside from the writing course– and so far, you thought it’d be the highlight of your day. 
But when you got to his classroom, the room was empty and there was a short note on the board: Professor Almain is indisposed today. Study Chapters three and four of your book, you’ll be discussing them next class. The note was signed by Tobby Klein, his assistant. 
You sighed and sat down on one of the chairs, sulking as you took out the book mentioned and started to read. Someone else tried to enter the room a few minutes later, and when they realised there would be no class, they left the classroom instantly. Perhaps they had something better to do, you didn’t. 
You had taken that class as an extracurricular, so you barely knew the students in it, and your classmates were in a class you had taken online, so you couldn’t exactly go search for any of them. You could have gone to the library, but it also seemed unnecessary when you had a perfectly quiet classroom all to yourself. 
You were about halfway through the chapter when you heard someone knocking on the glass window. When you turned you spotted Sirius waving his hand at you with a bright, pearly smile. He looked as dashing as ever. It was ridiculous how pretty you still thought he was even when you saw him all the time. 
He entered the room shortly after. “What are you here all alone?” he asked as he pulled a chair next to yours and pressed a short kiss on your cheek as a greeting. Sirius did that all the time, you’d assumed it was because he was half French. 
“Class was cancelled,” you said as you pointed to the board. “Had nowhere to go. Aren’t you supposed to be in class too?” 
He hummed in response. “It’s that stupid advanced maths class Moony convinced me to take, I was falling asleep and asked to go to the bathroom to throw some water at my face when I spotted you.” 
“You should go back.” 
“To maths? Rather than staying with you? Yeah, right!” 
A small smile appeared on your lips as you stared at him while shaking your head in disbelief. “What if you fail, though?” 
“I’m not going to fail,” he said with a shrug. “Moony can tell me what it was about later. Wanna grab something to eat? My treat.” 
You nodded and pulled your bag from the ground. “I was actually going to invite you guys over tonight,” you said as you opened the zipper and placed the book inside the bag, “I mean I’m sure you don’t remember, and I don’t really want to make anything big but–“ 
“That today is your birthday?” Sirius asked. 
You turned to him in shock, “You– you…” 
“How on earth would I forget?” he said with a smile. “It’s the day my best girl was born. They should make a fucking parade for you.” 
You felt your cheeks warm at Sirius’ grandiose attitude. “Come on,” he said as he stood up and offered his hand. “It feels like a day for ice cream, want some?” 
You nodded and he dragged you towards the parking lot, his hand not leaving yours at all, you tried to ignore the fluttering in your chest since you suspected he had a thing with Remus, but it was almost impossible when he looked at you with his stunning grey eyes. 
He took out the helmet they’d gotten you when they started offering to take you on rides from Moony’s bike and handed it over. It was a full-face black helmet that matched the one the two of them wore almost perfectly, but while Moony’s had a half moon and Sirius’ had a star, yours had both. 
It had been Remus who added the matching moon, and Sirius –who instantly got jealous over it– painted a star right in the middle, he was exceptionally good at painting, sometimes you wondered why he didn’t study art. Then again, you weren’t sure what exactly they were studying, since they had taken classes from more than four different degrees as if they had only picked the few classes that they were interested in.
 You took the helmet in between your hands and hopped on Sirius’ bike. He drove you to the small park that was just a couple of minutes from the school and got you your favourite ice cream from the small ice cream shop James had discovered a while back. 
“So, about tonight?” 
“Moony has a thing,” Sirius said with an apologetic smile. “He has a big presentation tomorrow and he’s working on it with his team tonight, they’ll be using the rooftop of our apartment for it, I believe.” 
“Oh,” you said, trying to hide your disappointment. 
Sirius bit his lip, “Why don’t you come over?” 
“I wouldn’t want to be a distraction, I mean–“ 
“I don’t have to work on any projects,” Sirius said. “We could play chess, watch a movie while he finishes and then we order something to eat.” 
“You– do you really think that’s a good idea?” you asked, uncertain, as you brought your ice cream to your mouth.
“For sure,” he said. “We could get a cake and–“ 
“No cakes.” 
“But you like cakes!” 
“Not on my birthday.” 
“That’s ridiculous! You have something on your face.” 
“Where?” you asked. 
“There,” he said as leaned his finger close to you and smeared some of his ice cream over your cheek. You gasped in shock. 
“Sirius!” you admonished.
“Yes, Luv?” he responded, as if you had just called him.
You used the napkin wrapped around your cone to clean your cheek, “That was uncalled for.” 
“I don’t know about that, your cheeks looked like they needed some ice cream,” he said while trying, and failing to hold back a smile, he pulled a napkin from his pocket, much like a magician would do, and handed it over to you. You were about to take it from his hand, but he shook his head and wrapped his fingers around your chin and turned your head to the side softly. “Allow me.” 
He took longer than needed while whipping your cheek, but he didn’t exactly want to pull apart, and you didn’t want him to pull apart either. 
“There you go.” 
“It’s sticky now,” you teased. 
“Nothing can keep you happy, can it, Sweetheart?” he said dramatically and wrapped his arm over your shoulders and leaned his head on yours. 
You just laughed. Sirius convinced you to skip the next class and stay with him at the park and then took you home. 
“Want me to pick you up?” He asked as you got down from the bike. He had propped the small side stand down and was leaning on the handlebar. You could hardly believe he had driven you all around looking that handsome, with his leather jacket, and high boots. Sirius was pretty all the time, but sometimes he felt more like a fictional character than like an actual human. 
You saw a girl eyeing him as she passed by, and you couldn’t help but smile at him and nod. “Yeah, that would be lovely. At 7?” 
He smiled, gave you a short wink, and put his helmet back on. “See you soon, Sweetheart.” He said, voice slightly muffled by the helmet before he drove off. You entered your apartment shortly after, and it took you a whole minute to recover. It’s not that you hadn’t gone out with Sirius plenty of times, but this one seemed a lot more like a date than all of the previous ones. 
You took a snack bar from your pantry, went for a shower, and asked your classmates about the class you’d missed. A friend of yours told the teacher that you were feeling sick to cover for you and he said he wouldn’t count the absence (it was the first time you missed that class anyway), and you had always been rather participative. 
After that, you grabbed the book you’d been reading and read until it was 7. The light outside had already gone out, and you took some chocolates you’d bought for Remus last week and placed them in your backpack, it was then that you heard the familiar honk of Sirius’ Triumph.
You walked downstairs and met him outside. He switched his band tee for a snug turtleneck sweater that fit him obscenely well and was still wearing his leather jacket. You had kept your helmet and put it on as you approached his bike. 
“You smell nice,” you said as you sat behind him.
“You think?” he asked, playing dumb. “Maybe it’s the aftershave,” he added as he pulled the side stand up and drove into the street. You eyed him suspiciously, not that you could see much while he had his helmet on but you still did.
By the time you arrived at their apartment, you had forgotten all about your suspicion and were just leaning onto Sirius as much as you could, since the night had grown a lot colder than you expected it would. Sirius parked his bike just outside and the two of you walked the three floors of stairs to their apartment.
You expected to see James lounging around like he often did, but he was not there, and Sirius told you Remus was on the terrace at the top, doing his thing, so you walked towards the sofa while Sirius offered to make you a cup of tea.
“Remus bought the one you like,” he said, pulling out a box with the tea you had tried a while back. You had fallen in love with the flavour, but you never found it in the supermarket –it was from a small tea shop at Diagon Alley, so really, there would be no way for you to find it.
“Okay,” you said, “got milk?” 
Sirius nodded towards the fridge and you helped him by pulling out the milk and some biscuits. When your cup was ready, he handed it over to you and took a sip of his own. He glanced at the clock quickly, so quick you barely even noticed and then smiled. It was that mysterious smile of his that told you he was up to something. “We should go see Remus.” 
“What? I thought he was working on his project.” 
“He probably is, but you haven’t seen him all day, I’m sure he wants to at least give you a birthday hug.” 
“A birthday hug?” you asked in disbelief. 
“Yes! A birthday hug! We’ll bother him for a bit and then we come back and you tell me about that book you’ve been reading. The one with the character you said reminds you of me.” 
“You’re so full of yourself,” you said with a laugh as you nodded and followed along with him. 
As you reached the top of the stairs you heard some shuffling on the other side of the door. Sirius was the one to open it first, but none of the lights they normally had were up. 
“Maybe they went to do their homework at the Corner Cafe,” you told Sirius as you turned to him. Suddenly all the lights turn on, including candles and the hanging fairy lights at the top. 
“Surprise!” A chorus of voices sang.
You were startled, Remus and James were right in front of their small table, and there was a cake right in front of them. They had invited their friend Lily, who was dating James and with whom you were fairly close to. She was the first one to approach you.
“I can’t believe Sirius was the one to tell me when your birthday was, Luv! He used to forget mine all the time!” She turned to Sirius with an accusing gaze and then back at you. “Happy Birthday,” she added as she hugged you. 
James gave you a short squeeze after and Remus wrapped you in his arms and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. Sirius joined the hug right after. 
“You’re squeezing me, boys!” you complained in a laugh. 
“It’s a birthday squeeze, deal with it,” Sirius responded, and pressed even closer. 
“Remus?” you tried, he was the most reasonable one between the two. 
“You heard Sirius, Dove. It’s the birthday squeeze.” 
You must have stayed like that for at least a minute before either of the two let go of you, you were certain Lily had whispered something to James, but you were too busy basking on the wrath of the squeeze to bother. After that, you would have sworn the lights of the cake turned on by themselves as Lily walked over to you with it. They sang Happy Birthday while Sirius pulled you to sit on his lap, using the terrible excuse that there was no other seat available. 
You had cake and then they handed over your gifts. A book from Lily and a chocolate frog from James, although he warned you not to open it until later. You didn’t know what that was about but decided to do what was told. Eventually, Lily said she had to go and James offered to walk her. 
Although he said ‘I’ll fly you’ getting a look from Remus that you missed entirely. The boys had extended a pair of matts over the deck and you were all laying on them while gazing at the stars. 
“It was lovely, thank you for the surprise,” you said as you looked at the waning moon. 
“It was nothing, Luv,” Rem said.
“Remus was really eager to celebrate your birthday. We actually have a little present for you,” Sirius added. 
“Really?” you asked, turning to Sirius.
“Mhm,” he nodded. 
“Open the frog,” Remus prompted. 
You leaned forwards and sat on the mat, pulling the frog from the table and doing what told. Suddenly the Frog that looked like it had been made out of chocolate jumped and fell near Remus’ leg. You gasped and stared at the moving frog. It looked like chocolate, but it moved as if it were alive. 
“What– did James give me an actual frog?” 
“No, it’s chocolate,” Remus reassured and picked it up. The frog stilled in his hand. 
You stared at it in disbelief, “Is this some sort of trick?” 
“It’s magic,” Sirius said. 
You frowned at him.
“Remember the story for our class? The one that we worked on together?” 
“Wartshow, Andrew, yeah of course.” 
“Well, It’s sort of real.” 
“What?” 
Remus pulled out his wand and handed it over to you. You stared at it, it looked like a wand, it felt like a wand, but there was no way it was magic because magic– “Is this some kind of trick?” 
Sirius laughed and pulled out a different wand from his pocket, he whispered something and red sparks blew out from the tip. You swallowed and took it from his hands. Checking on it to see if there was some kind of trick, or cannon dust or something inside of it, but it was just a stick, fancy, but a stick. 
Remus took his wand and with another set of words, levitated the small frog right in front of your face. You looked at it with eyes wide open and moved your hand all over it to make sure it really was floating, and it wasn’t some kind of invisible string trick. It was right in front of your eyes, and it was still too fascinating to believe.
“But… in our story, wizards couldn’t tell the non-wizards about their existence. It was meant to be a secret… I mean… Why are you telling me?” 
Remus smiled, his hand searched yours and he leaned his head on top of yours and sighed. “Because we trust you,” he said while looking ahead, at nothing in particular.
Sirius searched for your other hand, making sure to turn it around and interwinning his fingers with yours. He placed his head on your shoulder. “Because we like you.” 
You hadn’t had the best experience with birthdays, but this had been one of the nicest birthdays of them all, more so when your two crushes admitted what Sirius had meant by his words. That they liked you –romantically– not just as friends. 
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A/N: I am so, SO sorry for taking this long to finish your gift, but I made it a bit longer than initially planned to make up for it.
Hope you both had the most amazing birthday and that you're having a wonderous day today. Sending you lots of love, hope you enjoy this little thing <3
461 notes · View notes
pastafossa · 2 months ago
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"Poor thing." (Matt Murdock x F!Reader, Fic) 🔥
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So as promised, I'm taking part in the October Tuna-Tober prompt challenge! For Day One I had three prompts to choose from, and I wound up going for the kink prompt of somnophilia cause, well, I'd hinted at it in TRT as being something Matt liked, but never actually sat down and wrote anything out for it. You can see the rest of the prompts I've chosen here if you'd like to know what's coming this month from me, but for now, please enjoy Day One! This is not specifically written as any fem!Reader in particular, although any readers of TRT can choose to see this as TRT's reader!
As a reminder, if you'd like notifications when I post something, you can follow my sideblog @pastaxandria and set it for notifications!
Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader
Chapter Summary:
You’d had a long week. He remembered you telling him that the night before. You wouldn’t mind if he woke you up—you never did—but odds were good you needed your rest far more than you needed him dragging you up out of the haze of sleep for a sloppy, indulgent midnight fuck. But then… he didn’t have to wake you up, did he? 
Wordcount: 3.3k words
Warnings for this chapter, let's do this: consensual somnophilia (they talked about this being fine, don't worry), oral f-receiving, grinding, PiV sex, some dirty talk. 18 and up only please!
Oh and we're black suiting this cause fuck yeah.
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Your arousal hit him the second he opened the rooftop door. 
The scent of it stopped him dead in his tracks, threads of heat winding through him as he drew in a long, slow inhale, savoring it. Another inhale, and he let out a low rumble of pleasure, his mouth already watering, cock stirring. 
Well, that was one way to be welcomed home.
Not that he was complaining. His night had gone well enough—the fights visceral and satisfying, with multiple people he’d ensured would make it home safely. But your skin against his, fucking his way lazily inside you while you moaned loudly into his ear, dragging your nails down his back, would only make a good night better. However, as he eagerly stepped through the door and closed it behind him, it quickly became clear that your body’s call to him wasn’t exactly intentional. 
He directed his senses down the stairs and into the bedroom, hunting through sensory information, through the fire of the world until he found you in bed. You were laying on your side and tucked under the blankets, one of your arms thrown over his pillow to hold it up against your chest. And despite the tempting scent of you in the air, you weren’t moving. Not really, anyway. At most, every now and then your fingers would twitch or curl, your heartbeat uneven and a little restless. 
Asleep. 
You were dreaming, then.
Maybe even dreaming of him. 
He slowly dragged his tongue over his lips, considering his options.
You’d had a long week. He remembered you telling him that the night before. You wouldn’t mind if he woke you up—you never did—but odds were good you needed your rest far more than you needed him dragging you up out of the haze of sleep for a sloppy, indulgent midnight fuck.
But then… he didn’t have to wake you up, did he? 
Just like that, he settled on a course of action.
He crept silently down the stairs, stripping out of his gloves and black mask as he went, tossing them aside without care for where they fell. The bottom step was carefully avoided, thanks to its tendency to creak and alert you to his presence. He stopped only long enough to kneel and quietly unlace his boots, tugging them and his socks off so that he could slip barefoot into the bedroom, weaving through the shadows, navigating around any floorboards that might give him away. He did it all without a sound, his senses so focused now he could hear the faint whisper of the dust motes in the air stirred by his passage, hear the tiniest shift of your skin against the sheets as you breathed, hear the blood flowing hot beneath your skin where you’d grown flushed and aroused. 
The scent of your arousal was even stronger here in the bedroom, more than enough to thicken the heat inside him, an instinctive little purr halted in his throat before it could stir the air with sound. His body knew just as well as he did what that scent meant, what always followed, and his nostrils flared as he got closer to you, taking in how your pheromones had mixed with his in bed. It stirred some possessive, lazy satisfaction in him to take in the way you’d curled up with his pillow, chasing his scent, and you were even wearing—
Oh. 
You were wearing his shirt. 
It was like you were begging for this, for him, for what he had planned. 
He crept up onto the bed on his hands and knees, each shift of the mattress followed by a pause, a confirmation from your heartbeat and breathing that you were still asleep. He had to be careful if he didn’t want to wake you. It wasn’t that you’d be angry, of course—you’d both agreed that this sort of thing was alright, though he’d had a far easier time making use of that agreement than you had thanks to his senses. No, this was about ensuring you still had a chance to rest. 
Though, if he were honest, the challenge of this was a thrill all its own. It was a delicate balancing act to give you the sensations you needed, allow himself access to your body, all without waking you. It was as if he were hunting you, gradually gaining ground from the shadows until at last he could take hold of his prize. Fortunately, this prize was one that would leave you both satisfied. 
The moment he found himself over your hips, he shifted to catch the blankets and slowly, ever so slowly began to edge them down. 
Gentle. 
Inch by inch, he bared your body to the air. You didn’t so much as stir, well and truly asleep, and presumably still caught up in your dream. Even so, he held his breath, listening closely to the beating of your heart and your shallow breathing. But he’d been careful enough, and besides, you were used to him climbing into bed in the middle of the night, shifting the blankets around as he crawled under them to join you. 
The scent of you that rose up as the blanket slid down was so much richer now that it wasn’t stifled and trapped by thick fabric. It made him shiver, his cock already so hard he could feel a damp spot growing on the silk of his boxers. He needed more of that scent, and to taste it, too, but the angle was all wrong with you on your side. So he gently traced one fingertip up the side of your thigh, applying the barest hint of pressure. You were normally fairly responsive to him even in sleep. 
“Roll over for me, sweetheart,” he whispered, leaning down to brush his lips, light as a feather, against your hip. “You smell so good. I need a taste.”
He wasn’t sure if it was his touch or his voice that made it past whatever dream you were lost in, but either way, some part of you heard him. You breathed out a soft sigh, twitching a little until he helped you roll slowly onto your back beneath him. You made a soft sound that might have been his name, and he couldn’t resist letting out a reassuring little croon as he pressed your slack thighs outwards, gradually parting your legs. There wasn’t so much as a hint of resistance as your legs fell open, baring the wet heat of your pussy to him. 
God, your scent. 
He quickly backed up a few inches before dropping to his hands and his knees, lowering his head just over your hips to quietly inhale the scent of your cunt. The rich, musky tang of your arousal—all pheromones and slick warmth—left him half mad, his eyes rolling back. His hips instinctively snapped forward against nothing but air, his body curving as if he were already fucking his way into you. 
It only got worse, got better when he let his head fall further, hungry for just a taste. He slipped his tongue out until he could use the tip for the barest little lick at the line of your slit where your arousal had gathered, your body twitching as he did. Even that small taste hit him like a drug, and he swallowed down a ragged moan, his chest hitching as he kept the sound from reaching the air. He’d told himself he’d just have a taste, just one, but one quickly became two became three, hungry, quickening laps at your slit until he finally whined softly in want and dropped the rest of his body down, burying his face desperately against your cunt. 
Your hips twitched, rocking against him just slightly, and you let out the softest little whimper as he grunted and slurped quietly at your slit, wetness smearing across his chin and mouth. Only once he’d thoroughly tasted what you’d made for him did he slide up to your clit, tongue extended to lap at it with little kitten licks, ones designed to encourage your body to give him more of your slick wetness, your body jerking with every pass. He tried to remind himself to be gentle, to take things soft and slow so you didn’t wake, but that was so hard when you whimpered again, whimpered as he pursed his lips to suck lightly at your clit, drawing it into his mouth to work with his tongue. Your fingers curled and released against the sheets, and you tasted so good that he found himself fucking against the mattress, humping mindlessly at the folds in the blankets like an animal.  
“M… Matt.”
His eyes fluttered lazily open, his gaze drifting up around the sensory shape of you. You were all flowing air currents and sounds and scents, twisting tongues of flame fed by the growing heat of both your bodies. Your heartbeat was still too slow to signal you’d woken up, but your breathing had picked up, your eyes fluttering more rapidly behind your eyelids. 
If you hadn’t been dreaming of him before, you were now. And if you were still dreaming, he was safe. 
He rumbled a low noise of satisfaction, using his fingers to part your folds before dipping down to your entrance. Once there, he began to lick firmly at you, pressing deeper and deeper until at last your body opened to him and he slipped inside. You let out a sleep little mewl, one of your legs shifting restlessly in your sleep, your head rolling on your pillow as he moaned quietly, curling his tongue inside you to drag against the silken heat of your clenching walls, his nose grinding gently against your clit. 
Did you know, somewhere deep down, what he was doing? That he’d spread you open like this and worked his tongue inside you? Or did all your dream self know was that you suddenly felt so, so good?
The very idea that you might not know, that you’d left yourself so vulnerable to him, had him dangerously close to coming, his motions growing just a hint more frantic. Wetness smeared across his face as he kissed sloppily at your slit, kissed at it like he might your mouth, snaking his tongue out to slide inside you with every pass of his lips. 
He listened carefully to the quickening pace of your heart, your breathing, taking in the faint sheen of sweat forming on your skin. Every time your heartrate rose too high, he’d slow just a little, or shift his mouth over to your folds or the inside of your thighs. It was there he left you a mark or two, sucking gently at thin, delicate skin. Even if he managed to do this without waking you, you’d know tomorrow what he’d done when you saw the little love bites and bruises between your thighs. The very idea made him purr warmly against you, and he quickly worked his hand down beneath himself until he could undo his pants, pushing the fabric down until he could pull his hard cock free. He took a moment to grind slowly, deliciously against the sheets, presing his mouth to the skin of your thigh to muffle his hitched moan. And that reminded him of what he’d planned on from the start, before he’d become distracted by the taste of you.
He was close, and he needed you. Fortunately, based on the way your body had begun to tighten in increasing waves, you were close, too. 
He let his head roll to the side to rest against your thigh as he panted, still grinding himself against the sheets. “Do you want my cock, sweetheart?” he whispered, his lips curling up into a delicious little smirk when your body clenched at the sound of his voice. “I think you do. Even when you’re asleep, you need me inside you, don’t you?” 
There was no verbal response, but the growing heat of your skin was enough for him. He rocked himself up as gently as he could, stopping just long enough to strip the rest of his clothes off before climbing slowly up your body. As he went, he caught the hem of your shirt, slowly dragging it up your body with him. He couldn’t take it off you—even he wouldn’t be able to mange something like that—but he had no desire to. The idea of fucking you while you were sleep, while you were wearing his shirt, was a fantasy he’d used more than once while taking himself in hand. He did, however, tug your shirt up just enough to bare your breasts to him. 
Obscene, something inside him whispered in delight, a wave of throbbing heat flooding through him. Here you were asleep, shirt pushed up over your breasts, your naked cunt practically dripping onto the sheets. He balanced his weight on one arm as he hovered over you, indulging himself as he palmed gently at one of your breasts, dragging his thumb slowly against your nipple. That won him another soft moan in your sleep, your cunt clenching, body tightening around nothing. Your next moan was even louder when he dropped his head to drag his tongue hotly against your other nipple, drawing it into his mouth to catch it gently between his teeth, sucking lazily until you let out an even louder moan, one of your hands curling as if to claw at the sheets before relaxing. “Poor thing,” he crooned quietly, reluctantly leaving your breasts to climb the rest of the way up your body. “Listen to you, so needy.”
And it would only be right to help with that, wouldn’t it? 
Once his hips were level with yours, he settled in, rocking and grinding his cock gently against your slit, slicking himself up with your warmth and the saliva he’d left behind. The sudden sensation of your burning heat against the underside of his cock made his mouth fall slack, and he started to pant at the little shocks of pleasure that washed over him every time he caught the head of his cock against your clit. You weren’t much better even asleep, whining as your hips jerked, eyes rolling frantically beneath your lids. It took everything in him to keep his motions gentle and slow, no matter how much his body demanded he grind and rut, fuck his way desperately inside you even if it woke you. No. No, not when he was so close, his cock now slick and ready for you. He let out a shaky breath, burying his face against your warm throat, huffing in the scent of you as he shifted the angle and began to slide inside you, centimeter by warm, delicious centimeter. 
“Fuck,” he whispered shakily, one of his hands fisting desperately in the sheets beside your head. “Fuck, sweetheart. You feel so good.”  
God, you were tight, so close to coming that you were already clenching tight around him. That tightness forced him to move gradually, his progress slowed to a sinfully dangerous crawl, one that allowed him to feel every last twitch and shift of your body around his cock. It seemed designed to make him lose his mind when he was already this worked up. In a blink, he’d caught the fabric of your shirt in his teeth, stifling his hoarse, shaky moan, your shallow, hitched breathing a tantalizing whisper of sensation in his ear. It felt like it took hours,  ages before he’d finally hilted himself inside you, buried in your slick heat. 
He forced himself to still there for a long moment, his chest heaving as he scanned over you with his senses again. 
Stuttered breathing, each breath hiding a faint moan. 
The fluttering clip of your heart, just slow enough to indicate you hadn’t woken. 
Your fingers clenching and releasing, spread thighs shifting in minute, restless movements against the sheets. 
It wouldn’t take much more for him to come, he knew that much—the taste of you still lingered on his tongue, filled his nose, and the drag of your skin against his with every breath only left him burning. But he wasn’t a selfish lover, even when you weren’t awake to beg and plead with him for release. No, he’d make sure you got what you needed, too: his sweetheart, so tender and soft and welcoming to the Devil even in sleep. 
He slowly, gradually settled his weight onto one arm, sliding his free hand down between your bodies. Even that much shifting around had him swallowing down a groan, and he couldn’t resist grinding just a little inside you. It made you twitch and whimper, hushed and breathless in his ear as he pressed his cock against that spot inside you. Once he was sure that hadn’t been enough to wake you, he quickly dragged two fingers through your folds, raking gently to gather up your wetness before he brought them back up to your clit. The rhythm he started was slow and easy, a gentle grind and loop over your clit that matched the rolling waves of his hips as he began to gently fuck you, barely retreating at all before sliding smoothly back to fill you once more. 
It took him no time at all to work your body up that final hill, your breathing growing shorter, your heart rate climbing as you began to tighten around him. It helped that he knew what you needed—each retreat was slow and gentle, and he never left you more than halfway before rolling lazily back forward, ensuring your warm cunt stayed achingly full as he brought you just up to the edge. This time it was your mouth that moved, not a word but a soft whisper of skin as you parted your lips, your head tipping back. And he knew that motion, even as slack and lazy as it was in your sleep. 
He purred quietly at the unconscious request that he fill you there, too, lifting his head to seek out your mouth. One soft lick against your lips and you parted them for him on pure instinct, allowing him to slide his tongue filthily into your slack mouth, dragging his tongue against yours, granting you what you’d asked for. You let out a soft sigh, your throat working beneath him as you sucked at the taste of him, of yourself, of you both. 
All it took from there was one more finger grinding against your clit, a gentle buck of his hips as he moaned into your mouth, and you crested, your body tightening and releasing around him in rippling waves. Your head rolled back in your sleep, a soft gasp shuddering up your throat as you twitched and shook, eyes rolling back beneath your lids. You let out what might have been a moan of his name, hot and sweet, a sound that seared its way across his mind like a brand. That was more than enough for him, and he let himself go. He groaned softly against your lips, snapping his hips gently against you as he spilled himself near-silently inside you, filling your cunt with a spreading heat that you wouldn’t notice until morning. He kissed you through it as gently as he could, rubbing lightly, quickly at your clit to drag your orgasm out along with his, pleasure rolling through him in gentle waves. Even once you both began to come down, he wasn’t quite done, rumbling a low, possessive growl as he ground himself inside you further, ensuring he’d coated every last inch of your warm cunt, his, you were his, even in sleep. He toyed with that overstimulation just long enough for his toes to curl, for his spent, softening cock to twitch inside you, spilling a few more drops, giving you everything he had as you drifted back down into a deep sleep. 
Satisfied with what he’d given you. 
He got one arm down and around your hip, gently, carefully rolling the both of you until you were both on your sides, his cock still buried deep inside you. He rumbled a low noise to reassure your sleeping mind, burying his nose in your hair as you sleepily curled into him, one arm draping itself over his waist. 
“Love you,” he murmured. “My good girl.” “Mm.”
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hakuheartsoul · 2 months ago
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let loose ✧ hwang intak
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✧ pairing: intak x afab!reader
✧ summary: your boyfriend, intak, gets an ad for collars on his phone. so he shows you - and then chaos ensues.
✧ genre: established relationship, fluff, tiny bit of angst (barely, i promise this is a happy fic), smut (almost pwp basically)
✧ rating: 18+ (mdni!)
✧ word count: ~4.6k
✧ content warnings: intak in a collar is the biggest warning tbh, dirty talk, mild hair pulling, mentions or marking/biting, oral (m receiving), unsafe sex
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a/n: hi!! this is my first fic i've ever written for piwon - hopefully i do them justice! i haven't written properly in 2 or 3 years so i'm probably still a little rusty. i'm also writing for day 29 of piwontober 24' for keeho, so please look forward to that.
posting this for my bestie @leepace - the biggest intak lover i know. and special thanks to the besties @sunflowerseob and @strawberry-seob - the unhingedness in our gc keeps me going 🥰
if you read this: thank you so much! i hope you enjoy it~
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So: your boyfriend in a collar. It started out as a joke. It really, truly did.
Intak showed you an ad that had come up on his phone one day while you were both just chilling in his room and that was all you needed for the gears to start turning.
“Baby, check this out! It’s a choker and it looks cool.” Intak eagerly shoved the phone into your hands so you could get a better look.
Sure enough, there was a choker on the screen. Intak was pretty fond of wearing items that accentuated his neck (and you were definitely not one to complain when he did). But this piece wasn’t exactly a choker.
“Takkie,” you started, pulling your boyfriend’s attention back to your face. “This isn’t a choker.”
His brows furrowed. “It’s not?”
“Nope - it’s actually a collar.”
The way his eyebrows shot up would have been comical if it wasn’t so endearingly. “O-Oh, right. Well that’s still cool!”
You laughed. “You into collars now, sweetie?”
Intak pretended to look perturbed. “I might be - so what if I am”?
“Well all I’d have to say to that is,” you placed your index finger along his jawline and slowly traced it down his neck. Intak gulped as you leaned closer.
“I can’t wait to find the perfect one for your pretty little neck.”
Intak’s face flushed faster than you’d ever seen it, and instead of responding he simply just tackled you to where he was hovering over you on the bed, you giggling the entire time.
You tucked that useful piece of information away in your mind and the day finally came: your package arrived.
You had it delivered to your house; even though you stayed mostly with Intak, you didn’t want to risk him seeing it beforehand. Once you opened the box, you noticed immediately how the package was much more intricate than you’d expected.
The item was encased in a velvet box, and when you opened it you let out a little gasp yourself. Intak was going to look divine in this, you called it right then.
The collar you had decided on wasn’t one like the leather piece Intak saw in that ad. You’d instead found a chain collar with a heart at each end - one of those that when you pulled on one end it got tighter. Intak always looked so good in chains so once you saw this in your search online you were a goner.
Your phone buzzed in your pocket, prompting you to repackage the collar and place it in your bag. Intak was calling to see when you’d be stopping by.
“Hey, I’m leaving my place right now! See you soon.” You quickly answered him and left your house, feeling like you could barely contain your excitement during the entire drive to his place.
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The night started out like most other ones tended to: dinner, a movie, and then some messing around that more often than not led to more. Before you could get too far, you remembered what was still waiting in your bag.
“Mm- wait,” you mumbled against Intak’s lips. He had just started to lay you back on the bed, hands wandering as they always did. He placed his hand on one of your hips where your shirt had started to ride up, rubbing softly while he waited for you to continue.
“Hm? What’s wrong?”
You smiled and gave him another quick kiss. “I forgot I brought something with me. Can I go grab it?”
“Yeah, sure… what is it, though?”
You giggled as you shimmied out from underneath him. “You’ll see in a second.”
As calm as you hoped you appeared, your heart was racing a mile a minute. Intak knew you had somewhat of a… fixation with his neck. You’d dabbled in seeing where his limits lied in the past: leaving marks, biting, even the occasional - but always very careful - breathplay. 
Intak was usually down to try anything you wanted, as you also were with him, and if one of you didn’t want to do something then it wouldn’t happen, no questions asked. Even still, you were nervous about what his reaction might be when he finally saw the collar.
The collar you had specially picked out for him. The collar that you would hopefully see around his neck soon - given that he wanted to try as well.
Intak was sitting up now, one leg crossed underneath him while he waited on you to come back. He raised a curious eyebrow once he saw the box in your hand but he didn’t say anything until you were sitting in front of him again.
“Ya know, out of all the things I was expecting you to pull out, a box wasn’t one of them.”
You playfully shoved his shoulder, watching his smile grow wider as he looked at you with so much fondness you could burst.
“It’s what’s inside the box, sweetie.”
“Love the emphasis you put on ‘inside’ there-” he tried to tease you again. You groaned but the smile on your face wasn’t going anywhere.
“Takkie, please just open the box.”
“Fiiiine, but only because you said please and you know how much I love to hear it.” Intak touched the tip of your nose as he finished talking, flustering you even more now.
You watched Intak open the box and peer inside, not daring to breathe while he did so. His face was first showing a hint of confusion before it shifted into curiosity once again. He held up the chain and let it dangle between his fingers. The chain hadn’t been secured with the ends yet, so it simply looked like a normal chain. He almost looked entranced while he watched the light glint off of the silver links.
He placed one end of the chain in one hand and tugged on it with the other some before speaking. “This is a really good, thick material. What made you want to get a new necklace?”
Oh, how you loved your sweet, naive boyfriend.
He pulled on it harder, seemingly impressed. “No, seriously, this is like good shit. You’re gonna look so pretty in this, baby.”
You almost didn’t want to burst his bubble but you knew if you didn’t tell him now you may never have the courage to again.
“Thank you but it’s, uh- it’s not for me.”
Intak’s eyebrows raised again; bless that man and his expressiveness, it was one of your favorite traits about him. 
“It’s for me?” He pointed to himself as he asked. Your heart ached at the cuteness as you nodded.
“Oh, thank you! I do love chains - it’s not exactly my style but since it’s from you I already love it.” Intak leaned forward to give you a kiss, one that had you giggling against his lips.
“What made you want to get me a necklace, though? It’s not my birthday and it’s not an important day for us-” Intak cut himself off as he looked mildly panicked “unless it is and I forgot, fuck, one second.”
Before Intak could dive over to the other side of the bed and grab his phone, you stopped him by wrapping your arms around him.
“Baby, hang on a minute,” you were laughing, feeling as he became less tense at your touch. You were always so happy that you had that effect on him. “It’s not a necklace.”
“It’s not?”
An almost identical conversation to the one you’d both had weeks ago when this idea planted itself in your head and refused to leave. It took root and grew into something that culminated in you researching collars for your pretty boyfriend and, well, here you were now.
“It’s not - it’s actually a collar.”
Intak dropped the chain altogether as he looked at you.
“You’re fucking with me, right?” 
You couldn’t tell from his tone at first how he felt and you started to wonder if you’d maybe made a mistake.
“I-I’m not. I really did get you one- but if you don’t want it, that’s totally ok! We can just forget it ever happened and-”
Intak stopped your rambling by picking the chain up again and placing it in one of your hands. You looked from the chain to his face and, to your relief, he was smiling. Hell, you’d even go so far as to say he was grinning, like he really wanted this.
“I was just surprised, is all. I love it,” he sounded a little more shy than you were used to when it came to him taking a more submissive role. “I don’t know how the fuck to use it, but - you can teach me, yeah?”
You let out a shaky breath, not realizing until then how all this was really affecting you.
“Of course I can, sweetie. Do you- do you want me to put it on you?”
“Please.”
That one word started a fire in you that spread throughout your whole body. It got even worse when Intak suddenly stripped himself of his shirt.
“Sorry, wouldn’t want it to, uh, get caught or anything. At least not on that,” he nodded to the shirt he’d just thrown on the floor. His words didn’t go unnoticed by you and you started to think that maybe he was really looking forward to trying this, too.
You placed the collar around his neck before you chickened out, pulling one end through the loop of the other and letting it fall against his chest once you were done. He looked down at the chain and tugged on the 2 hearts that were now entwined.
“Kinda like us if you think about it, huh?” He gave you a dazzling smile and dear god you were so far gone for this man-
You couldn’t help it anymore as you lunged forward, kissing Intak before he could say anything else to rattle your nerves and turn your brain to mush. You could feel the laughter rumbling through his chest as he held you against him.
“You good?” That was your check in phrase. You had leaned back some to where you were comfortably straddling him and placed your arms around his neck, softly playing with tufts of his hair that you could feel.
“I’m great,” he responded, placing his hands on your hips to stabilize you both. You both had key words you’d established when you were still exploring what you wanted to try earlier on in the relationship, and that was his way of letting you know he was ready.
You pushed Intak to where he was fully laying down, getting more comfortable in his lap. You trailed a hand down his chest and stomach, relishing in the shudder you got from him. You could already feel him getting hard in his shorts and you’d barely just started yet.
“Gonna show me how this works now, or what?” So Intak was choosing to be a brat today.
“I will…if you behave.” You started to tug on one of the hearts, eyes focused on the chain as it started to slide. Intak’s breath hitched.
“I think I can- I can do that.” Intak swallowed audibly, staring at the end of the chain you held in your hand.
Ok maybe he decided against being a brat tonight. Rewarding him, you pulled the chain tighter, just enough until it was almost touching his neck. His eyes widened as he finally understood how it worked.
“Good boy,” you leaned forward to where your face hovered above his. Intak let out a whine, subtly moving his hips. “How does it feel?”
Intak’s body was warm and the chain had to be cold. He didn’t seem to mind it much, but still, you were big on checking on his comfortability.
“Feels-feels nice,” Intak responded but looked like he was struggling to get the words out. Breathing heavy, pupils blown. He already looked fucked out. 
His next request took your breath away.
“Can you…can you make it tighter?”
You placed a light kiss on his lips as you granted his wish, pulling the chain to where it was now snug against his neck. Intak moaned into your mouth, and when you pulled away you saw him with his eyes closed and brows upturned. When he opened them again, his eyes were half-lidded, full of a desire that mirrored your own.
“Fuck.” He spoke softly, almost like the word came out without his permission. His grip on your hips was almost bruising.
Another gentle tug had his hands pulling at the edge of your shirt instead as he tried not to squirm. “Off. Please.”
You didn’t want to tease the boy too much, at least not to start with. You pulled back to discard your shirt and immediately Intak was on you.
He sat up, wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer. Since you’d dropped the chain, the collar had loosened some with his movement. His mouth found your neck and he started trailing open-mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. His hands splayed out against your back, once again gripping you like he was afraid to let you go.
You could feel the coolness of the chain against your own skin now, making you shiver in his hold. Intak responded by grinding up against you, biting right above your collarbone. You let out a gasp, hands flying to his hair to hold him there.
“Need you,” he mumbled the words against your skin. “Want you.”
Note to self: collaring Intak made him much more needy. You were thrilled to learn this and would absolutely use it to your advantage.
“You have me, baby,” you tilted his chin up so he would look at you. His lips were split-slick, shiny as his tongue darted out to lick them.
“Or did you want something else? I can’t read your mind, you know.” Your voice held the smallest hint of derision, another sign that you were slipping into your own persona for what was to come.
“I don’t know,” the words came out fast, “Just need you.”
You tsk-tsk-tsked at him. “You can do better than that, baby. Do you want me here,” you touched his lips, suppressing a chuckle at how he instantly opened his mouth like it was a Pavlovian response.
“Or here,” you lightly brushed against one of his nipples, making him tense up underneath you. He sucked in a breath, waiting to see what else you would do.
“Or do you need me here,” you ground down right on top of where his cock was nestled underneath you, still trapped in his shorts. 
“Ah-,” Intak’s hands fell to your hips again and he tried to meet you in the middle. You stopped yourself by placing a hand on his stomach, waiting patiently for him to stop thrusting.
“As pretty as you sound, that’s not an answer. You wanna try again?”
Voice dripping with saccharine, you tried to coax him into answering you again. This time with words, and not just his body.
“Here, please,” he thrusted again as he emphasized his words. 
The begging sounded so sweet, like music to your ears. You planted one last kiss on his lips before you started to move down the bed.
“I’m gonna take your shorts off now, baby, ok? You good?”
Intak’s bottom lip was pulled between his teeth as he nodded. Knowing that wouldn’t be enough, he followed up with “Great, I’m great.”
At his go ahead you removed his shorts, now met with the sight of his black briefs he wore. A very obvious tent was right in front of your face. You wanted to give him a little relief, so you palmed him.
Intak’s reaction was immediate, his thighs tensing as he let out a groan. He’d always been sensitive, but never this sensitive.
Fuck, why hadn’t you ever thought about a collar before? This shit was a real game changer.
“Can I take these off, too?” You kept palming him as you asked, enjoying how hard he was trying to not move.
“Please, yeah.” He sounded breathless, the top of his chest now flushed the same pretty color like his face.
You decided not to torture him any more for now. You got rid of his boxers and immediately wrapped your hand around his cock once it was free. Without teasing him, you dove straight in, taking as much of him in your mouth as you could in one go.
“Oh fuck!” Intak’s hands flew to your hair, pulling it up out of habit so it was away from your face before he started pulling on it.
You made a choked sound, causing vibrations to stimulate him even further. He was already twitching in your mouth - you couldn’t believe he was this close already.
You kept up your technique for a bit - sucking what you could fit, using your hand for what you couldn’t fit, and alternating between slow licks and hollowing out your cheeks as you sped up. Intak’s noises were driving you insane, especially the little ah, ah, ahs that he kept pushing out.
After a bit, however, you started to notice that the noises were coming more frequently than they usually did whenever you blew him, and your curiosity got the better of you. Your hand resumed its pace once you let him fall out of your mouth, looking up to see what was causing him to moan so unabashedly like that.
The sight took your breath away and if you hadn’t been soaked before you would’ve been now.
Intak had one hand in between his collar and neck while the other pulled on the end of the chain tight. He was so overwhelmed from everything you were doing and his pulling on the chain that he was much closer than you’d realized.
You’d been so gone yourself that you didn’t even notice when his hands disappeared from your hair.
“Baby,” you cooed at him, your hand speed a big contrast from how you were talking. Your voice had an instant effect on him as well, it seemed, making him instinctively pull tighter on the chain. “You gonna cum for me so soon?”
“Fuck, fuck,” Intak tried to swallow down another moan so he could answer you properly, but he failed miserably. “Don’t-don’t want to y-yet.”
“So that’s a no,” you teased him, giving his head a kitten lick just to see him flinch. “Aw, but you always look so pretty when you cum for me.”
“Shit,” Intak cried out. “You’re making it really fucking hard not to right now, ah-”
“I know, I’m so mean when you’re being so good.” You took him into your mouth again, sinking all the way down until you felt him in your throat. Intak thrusted out of reflex, making you gag but you held yourself there, wanting him to get the most out of it.
“Baby, fuck,” Intak sounded like he was barely holding it together. “Stop, please- can’t take much more.”
“So you don’t wanna cum?”
Intak whined, sounding so frustrated. “No, I do. But I want to do it with you.”
“Hmm…” you pretended to think it over, your hand still wrapped around him as he continued to twitch in your hold. “I think we can make that work.”
“Thank fuck,” Intak sighed out as you pulled yourself away from him to give him a little break.
You rid yourself of whatever clothes you had left and settled yourself on his lap again. His thumbs traced soothing circles above your hip bones as you got situated, his dick once again underneath you but without the extra layers this time.
“How do you want to do this?” You were giving him the choice, he’d been so good, so sweet for you tonight and he deserved it. “Whatever you want, baby. It’s yours.”
“Ha, o-ok. Uh,” Intak looked into your eyes and gave you a crooked smile, eyes hazy with lust that had yet to spill over. “Can you ride me?”
“Yeah? That what you want?” You started to sit up so you could position yourself on top of him. With how wet you were, you knew he’d immediately be able to slide in, no problem. It might take a second but you’d get him to fit. You always did.
“Yeah, want that. Need that,” he answered, gasping as he felt your hovering over him, his tip starting to get wet. “You good?”
He asked you this time, and it made your stomach flutter. “I’m great, baby. More than great.”
“Good,” his smile widened, “Me too.” 
You started to lower yourself down, the stretch somewhat painful but still very welcomed. Intak was breathing hard, looking at where your bodies were connected, focused on you taking him in. When he finally bottomed out, you both let out a sigh of pleasure. 
Before either of you could start moving, you noticed that Intak’s fingers were dancing along your sides up and down your ribcage - a habit that you knew he did when he was nervous.
“Takkie?” You didn’t think he was suddenly not into this anymore, but you had to check. You always had to. “You good?”
“Great, baby, I’m great. Don’t worry. I, just, uh-” he couldn’t look you in the eyes, another habit he had when he was nervous. He found eye contact to be hard generally, unless it was with you, so you knew something had to be up.
“You what?”
“Can I ask for one more thing?” He finally looked at your face again, eyes now set with determination.
“Yes?” You phrased it like a question, but nodded anyway for reassurance.
“Can you,” he took a breath, “ Fuck, ok. Can you pull on my collar while you ride me?”
You’d never heard a hotter sentence in your life, holy fuck.
“Fuck, yes, baby, I can do that. And I won’t even make you say please,” you teased him, moving your hips around in a circle just to feel him shudder.
“I’ll say it anyway because I really fucking want it-” you cut him off with a finger to his lips.
“You don’t have to say please - you know why?”
Intak shook his head, but his eyes were no longer lidded when he felt you pick up the end of the chain.
You tugged on it the same way as you’d started, to where the chain slid just enough to meet his neck but not be pulled taut against him. You leaned forward, chest meeting his own, lips just above his as you looked into his eyes.
“Because,” you pulled the chain tight, aware of how tight it was to still be careful, but tight enough to get your point across. The gasp he let out had you clenching around him.
“There’s no need for more begging when you already sound so lovely like this.”
Intak couldn’t even think of a way to respond before you were picking yourself up only to drop back down a moment later. You set a fast pace from the jump, something you knew both of you liked and craved when you were together like this.
What made tonight different, however, was by the time you actually started riding him, you were already close to falling apart and didn’t even fucking realize it until it was too late. All of your teasing him had affected you just as much, it seemed, and praises couldn’t stop falling from your lips.
“Fuck, my good boy, you’re doing so perfect for me. Pretty little noises, ah- perfect fucking cock.” Intak’s grip on you was strong and kept getting stronger with each word. You’d definitely have some marks tomorrow - just how you liked it.
After a little bit, Intak was helping you by meeting you halfway before you let him take the lead. He was slamming into you so hard that you were almost afraid you’d fall off, if not for the hold he had on you. How he was managing that while also whining and near tears was beyond you, but you knew he looked fucking gorgeous while he was.
As you were admiring the love of your life, Intak’s hand was suddenly in your line of vision as he grabbed the hand you were holding the chain with. Your brain registered it almost a little too late and you resisted him trying to pull it tighter.
“Please-”
“Baby, I’m sorry, it’s already too tight. Need you with me, yeah?” Your tone was soothing - you knew what he wanted but couldn’t give it to him, and as much as you hated that, being safe was so important.
He shook his head, still tugging on your hand but a little lighter this time. “Don’t need tighter,” he moaned, “need to see.”
“See what, baby?”
Intak moved your hand to where it was now in his line of vision.
“Want to see you holding it. Want to see you in control.” He broke off with a groan, twitching inside of you at a particularly harsh thrust. “Want to see how I’m tethered to you.”
You couldn’t even warn him before you were cumming, his words enough to push you over that edge. As you were clenching around him, you wound the chain tighter around your hand where he could see it without pulling it tighter against his neck.
“C’mon, baby,” you tried for him, out of breath and overly sensitive but you needed to get him there with you - however long it took.
“Wanna see you fall apart for me. You’ve been so good, always feel so good for me, go ahead and let go-”
“Fuck, I love you, fuck!” Intak’s head fell back harder against the pillow as he came, pulling you forward with the collar. You had just enough of your wits about you to slacken your grip, letting him fall without restricting him too much.
The feeling of him releasing inside of you had you shuddering all over again, sensitivity spiking but still not wanting it to end. These moments where you were just there together, entangled in each other as you let your bodies take over - these were among some of the moments you cherished most with your favorite person.
The come down was always a little hard because neither of you wanted to pull away. You pulled the chain away from his neck so the ends were almost touching again before you laid on top of Intak. You could feel him soften inside of you as he rubbed your back, no words shared between you two in the moment because there didn’t need to be. You listened to his heartbeat as it evened out, no longer beating frantically like yours had also been moments prior.
“I love you, too, just so you know.” You finally broke the silence, Intak’s chuckling moving you along with him.
“I know, baby. Trust me,” Intak placed a kiss on top of your head. “If I know one thing in life, it’s that.”
“Damn, put a collar on you one time and you get all sappy afterwards.” You could almost see him rolling his eyes at your comment even though there was no way for you to see his face right now.
“As if I don’t sometimes get sentimental after sex.” He was patting your head now, letting his fingers sift through your hair. “That’s usually your role, though, so you may be onto something there.”
You made a half-hearted attempt at a scoff before deciding it wasn’t worth it, smiling as you heard him laugh. You closed your eyes, cheek still against his chest while you slowly started to drift off.
“Hey, love?”
“Hm,” you answered.
“Thank you,” another kiss on top of your head. “Your surprise was a good choice.”
You lifted your head so you could look at him, adoring the lazy smile painted on his face.
“You into collars now, sweetie?” You were referring back to what you’d asked him that kickstarted this whole thing.
His answer this time, however, was different.
“Fuck yeah I am. But only for you.”
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thank you for reading! 💙
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