#anyway i just remembered to listen and I'm like oh yeah this is what the bg of my angry years was.
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There's thunderous knocking on the door and it startles Eddie out of his sleep.
He needs a moment to readjust, but Robin isn't the type to give anyone even a second, so his brain catches something about a nut before it's quiet again. He blinks at the white ceiling above him.
"What."
"She said she's gonna grab some bread and doughnuts from the bakery," Steve murmurs next to him so he turns his head, suddenly remembering that he's in his friend's bed, and it's the day of their little party.Â
He immediately snatches his gaze back up.Â
"Why the fuck are you naked?!"
"Huh? Oh, sorry," Steve rolls in the sheets to cover up some of his body. He doesn't sound very sorry. "Must have shifted in my sleep."
Eddie eyes him with curiosity.Â
"You weren't naked last time."
"Huh?"Â
Steve lays on his side to listen to him, and with his bare chest and tousled hair, he looks way too relaxed for the circumstances. It is his bed, duh, but he's looking at Eddie all naked and sleepy and it feels... not wrong per se, but it makes his stomach churn in a new way.Â
"When you slept over at the trailer, you had clothes."
"Oh," Steve frowns, trying to remember that day. "I guess I changed to use the bathroom and didn't bother turning back."
Eddie raises his eyebrows.Â
"So you draw the line of doghood at peeing outside?"
"Don't call it doghood," Steve scrunches his nose in distaste. "I couldn't open the front door with my paws anyway. Otherwise, I do pee in Dinkleberg's garden quite often," he admits.Â
"No way," Eddie grins at the information. "Do you shit outside too?"
Steve makes a face.Â
"I did once. It felt too weird not being able to wipe, but his face was worth it."
Eddie bursts out laughing.
"You're so gross, man!" he says, pushing at Steve's shoulders so he loses his balance and falls against the pillows.
"You asked!"
"What if weâ" a snort interrupts him and he falls forward, pressing his temple against his friend to find his bearings. "We can install a pet door for you? Wait, no, you're kinda big for that. If I wrap some rope against the handle, could you open it? I have a neighbor who really deserves some urine in his slippers."
Steve groans, pushing Eddie away.
"Well, who's being gross now?"
"I'm still not the one who shits in my neighbor's yard!" Eddie protests, but Steve is already leaving the bed with an indignant huff, and his body is suddenly on full display. "Dude!" he squawks, shielding his gaze from his friend's naked butt.
"Oh come on, we have the same parts!" Steve turns to him, but his dick moves along, making Eddie disappear under the covers.
"It's not about the parts, It's about human decency!"Â
"Well, I'm not fully human, so..." Steve points out, but it does sound like he's opening his wardrobe. "And I walk around naked all the time."
Eddie thinks about it for a second.Â
"Well, yeah, but then you're notâ"
He cuts himself off.Â
But then you're not attractive.Â
"I'm not what?"
In his scramble for a comprehensive answer, Eddie escapes the confines of bed covers, hoping he'll provide more oxygen for his brain this way. But with his terrible timing, he emerges at the perfect moment to catch Steve's naked, bent-over ass just before it gets covered by a pair of boxers.Â
Lord have mercy.Â
"Not human," he finishes lamely, all coherent thoughts suddenly gone.Â
Steve scoffs, turning around with his dick finally out of sight.Â
"Yeah, I'm not," he agrees easily, way too easily, before grabbing a pair of jean shorts. "You can take whatever you want to wear," he motions to the open closet, already walking towards the door.Â
"And for the record, I didn't shit in Dinkleberg's yard, I did it on his doormat," he adds before leaving the room, leaving Eddie to stare at where he disappeared.Â
====
Eddie's glad their mismatched group includes people who know the basics of barbequing and he doesn't have to get involved. There's also the card of "I helped with preparations so fuck off" that he can pull anytime anyone gives him the stink eye. This way, he can keep his distance and just observe. His scheming seems to be paying off and the seeds he planted in the little goblins and the dog-man himself, had taken root.Â
Steve sits on the warmed ground while Robin's hand is in his hair, and El feeds him whatever she didn't like from her skewer. He's heard Dustin praise the burgers. Dustin. Everyone has been contributing to making Steve feel more appreciated, either with words, physical touch, or even small gestures, like Max bringing him an extra Coke from the cooler.Â
So that was all great. But among his observing, Eddie notices some new things too.Â
Like Steve's hairy chest. How his muscles move with each movement and how he absentmindedly rubs on his scars. The way the moles on his cheek jump when he smiles and his shorts fill out when he bends.Â
Has it always been there?
Or more importantly, has Eddie always been interested in his friend?
He'd entertained the idea of fancying men ages ago but shoved it aside at the way easier, less problematic prospect of women, their tiny skirts, and the wild rocker chicks. So the gay thing isn't the scariest part, but rather the fact that he wasn't aware.Â
Now he can't help but think that his whole 'helping a friend out' thing had ulterior motives behind it, conceived deep in his subconscience. Getting closer to Steve, spending time with him, touching him, oh god he's been touching him so much. He'd look at his hands in betrayal if he wasn't holding food.Â
He takes a bite out of his hot dog but finds it cold and dry, which makes him wonder how long he's been people-watching instead of interacting with his friends like a normal human being. When he looks up again, he meets Steve's gaze and suddenly realizes he's making very unattractive open-mouthed movements with his jaw. Eddie clicks his mouth shut and forces himself to swallow, but thankfully, Steve seems to find it more amusing than disgusting.Â
Not that it would matter if Steve found him unattractive and repulsive or anything.Â
Tags: @noodle-shenaniganery @jaytriesstrangerthings @imaginary-maggie-waggie @samsoble @croatoan-like-its-hot
@dragonmama76 @storyranger @scoops-aboy86 @ollyxar @estrellami-1
@stevesworldxx @ajeff855 @live-laugh-love-dietrich @thelittleclare @wheneverfeasible
@bumblebeecuttlefishes @blasvemous @phatomcat94 @n33dlew0rk @manliest-of-muppets
@ravenfrog
#wereshifter au#steddie#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#mine#steddie fanfiction#shapeshifter steve harrington#werewolf steve harrington
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Heard a random 90s rock song & it legit got me thinking about Steve & Billy meeting again in their twenties... Like what if s3 never happened? After the fight at the Byers, Billy kept his head down & avoided Steve? I see him as being consumed by a sense of guilt/shame & yet still not being able to apologise until, that is, the day of their graduation when he's suddenly overcome with a need to just get it off his chest. He's been crushing on this guy since he got to Hawkins & he blew whatever chance he had of even just a friendship with him, but it doesn't matter now cos he's getting out of this shithole as quickly as possible, but he can't have this guilt gnawing at him any longer...So maybe he deliberately makes sure he bumps into steve at some point and mutters out a: "Harrington. We need to talk." And sucking on a cigarette like his life depends on it, hands shaking, barely making eye contact, Billy gives the world's shittiest apology. And it feels like his heart's gonna beat out of his chest & Steve's just standing there, staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face, before saying something like: "yeah, man. I'm sorry for that night too." (In my mind either Max let drop something about Billy's homelife or Steve has deduced something's not right). Anyway. Billy finally feels like he's able to breathe again for the first time in months UNTIL steve unknowingly utters the world's most devastating sentence: "I think we could've been friends if, y'know, shit hadn't gone down the way it did...oh well." And steve gives a sort of little grin and a laugh as if what he said wasn't a major deal. "Heard you're headed back to California?" Steve asks, and Billy's barely able to nod, still struck dumb by Steve's previous offhand comment. And maybe someone calls Steve's name and suddenly that's it. The moment is broken & Steve's leaving with a "Guess I'll see you around, Hargrove... or not" and a goofy little salute. And Billy thought he'd feel better. But in fact he feels worse. Because holy shit. Steve just said they could have been friends. And that's gonna haunt him for years....
Cue a few years later and they run into each other in Chicago (listen, the idea of Billy returning to California only to realise it no longer feels like home and maybe it never did consumes me), but yeah. They bump into each other accidentally and holy shit. Steve Harrington. He looks almost exactly the same. Other than the fact he's grown out the mullet and holy shit, are those highlights in his hair??? And billy's stunned by what looks like a genuine grin of delight that crosses Steve's face once he recognises who he's walked into. And maybe they chat for a little while; Billy doesn't even know what he's saying he's so in shock at meeting his highschool crush again. But just like the last time someone calls steve's name and of course steve has a girlfriend, of course he does (joke's on billy, cos it's just robin) and suddenly the moment's broken again and steve's walking away with a casual "it was good to see you again, billy" and billy is gripped with the thought that he can't let steve slip through his fingers again. how many people get a second chance like this? he can feel his old highschool crush flickering back to life where it's buried deep in his chest and maybe steve will never like billy like that but holy shit. billy still remembers the day steve said that maybe they could have been friends if things had been different and things are different now so why not take a chance??? and billy has never felt so brave or so fucking scared in his life as he does when he steps forward and calls after steve: "Hey Harrington! Wanna meet up and catch up properly some time?" and Steve's attention is back on him and goddamn. Billy didn't even realise how much he missed those eyes until now. ANyway!! This got away from me!! But 90s Harringrove pls and thank. Also the song i heard was lightning crashes by live. like the lyrics aren't even that appropriate but there's such a nostalgic feel to it.
oh my god. OH MY GOD.
Anon, this whole message has got me in a chokehold. Like, itâs such a direct hit. đŻđŻđŻBilly choking on an apology because heâs so painfully unfamiliar with the very concept, the absolute devastation of hearing the potential of being friends with Steve was there, but he blew it, the PINING⊠urgh. How Steve can unknowingly fatally wound Billy just like that.
AND THEN THE HIGHLIGHTS ARE YOU JOKING?!
I hope that things get away from you many many more times, because this was incredible.
Okay okay. Now, if I may, I will now attempt to match your freak.
ahem
â
By some serendipitous fuckinâ miracle, Steve agrees to exchange digits with him. They couldnât find a napkin or any other god forsaken scrap of paper to write on, so they just scribbled their numbers down onto each other's arm. Billy was so fucking on edge that when he was peering down at the pale expanse of Steveâs mole-speckled forearm he damn near forgot his own phone number. Jesus, heâs a wreckâŠ
At least whenever it comes to Harrington, anyway. Dude has like, Billyâs own personal strain of kryptonite woven in through his DNA or some shit. It would explain why his hands always get clammy and his knees feel like theyâre made of fucking jello every time Steve flashed those pearly whites his way.
Christ, Hargrove, get it togetherâŠ
Billy had spent the rest of the week running a finger along the wobbly looking numbers, fading more and more every day. Before they fade completely through, he finally finds his balls and dials Steveâs number.
A girl picks up, which⊠well, Billy knows Steve has a girlfriend. He didnât know theyâre living together though⊠but whatever, it donât change shit.
âSteve around?â He asks, clenching the receiver in his fist so tightly that he can hear the plastic creak.
âWhoâs asking?â The girl says, sounding pleasant despite her words. Sandy-haired, freckles. Cute, Billy remembers. Harrington always did go for the cute ones.
âBilly,â he answers, âBilly Hargrove. Heâll know who I am.â
âOh, Billy,â The girlâs voice draws out his name like itâs an answer to a question that sheâd been stuck on. âItâs about time you called.â
Which. ThatâŠ
What the hell does that mean?
While Billyâs puzzling it out, she hears the girl holler for Steve, telling him Billy is on the line. His name is said with a weird amount of familiarity.
Billy switches ears and shakes out the stiffness in his hand. Focuses on breathing evenly instead of the steady flow of questions suddenly piling up in his head.
âBilly?â Steveâs voice, clear as a bell, asks from the other line.
Billy clears his throat, âhey, man.â
âHey. I was just about to call you.â Steve says, doing that thing where he so casually drops bombs onto Billyâs world, leveling his cities with a passing word.
âBeat you to it.â Billy grins, and hears the little huff of a laugh on the other line.
âAlways so competitive,â Steve teases, and Billy can just hear the smile. It makes his chest ache. Itâs the sweet kind of ache, though. âHavenât you ever heard itâs not winning that matters, itâs taking part?â
Billy shakes his head even though Steve canât see him and sneers, âsounds like some shit losers say to each other.â
That gets a genuine laugh from Steve, all breathy and sharp, and Billy feels himself laughing along from the sheer thrill of getting Steve going.
âJesus, I forgot how much of an asshole you are.â Steve sighs, but thereâs no heat behind it. Just shit talk. Itâs fine. What guys do.
âYeah yeah. Canât change my spots, or whatever.â Billy mumbles as he scuffs his boot along the floor. Fucking antsy. Jonesing for a cigarette. Just get on with it you piece of shit. He takes a breath and then takes the plunge. âSo listen, we should hang out this weekend. I know a few good bars where we could catch up. Maybe get into some trouble.â
Steve makes a scoffing sound, âwhat kind of trouble are we talking here, Hargrove?â
His heart jackrabbits in his chest. He loves this part. Billy brings the receiver just a little closer to his lips. âThe fun kind, Harrington.â He murmurs, voice pitched low.
Thereâs a brief, unbearably tense couple of seconds where Steve doesnât speak. He just lets Billy dangle like a hooked fish. Static from the line. He doesnât breathe. Then.
âFriday at 8?â Steve tosses the offer out, real casual-like. And with it, Billy feels the muscles around his neck and shoulders relax, like he got shot with a tranquilizer dart. Steve continues, âYou wanna meet at the same coffee shop from before? I live in the apartment building just across the street from it.â
Fancy, Billy thinks. Of fuckinâ course. All the buildings on that block are the high end kind; with door men and balconies and working elevators. Billy only ever finds himself in that leg of the city when a pipe bursts or a sink gets clogged and Billy gets called in to fix it. Of course Steveâs living in the lap of luxury here in Chicago. Mommy and Daddyâs only child. Not that itâs his fault, Billy supposed. Some people are just born luckier than others.
âSure, rich boy,â Billy grins, âbring your appetite though, Iâm buying nachos.â
Steve heartily agrees. Because obviously. Who the hell could say no to that? Rich or poor, nachos are nachos.
It ainât a date. It ainât. Itâs just two guys hanging out, yâknow, catching up. For old times sake. Getting into some trouble, like Billy said. It ainât date.
So what if he calls and asks Heather to pre-approve his outfit when everything he owns suddenly looks stupid on him? And who cares that he dabs double the amount of cologne onto his chest and triple down his pantsâBilly likes to smell good, it ainât a big deal. He wears a silver chain around his neck, the one that matches his earring, and undoes a few more buttons than usual to show it off. Itâs cold this time of year but he figures theyâll be inside for most of the night anyway. Drinking, shooting pool, tossing darts. Shit like that.
Billy chain smokes as he waits outside of the coffee shop, sucking back one cigarette after the other, trying not to think about how heâs about to see Steve fucking Harrington again; the one who got away. Or, one one Billy never even fucking had a chance with in the first place, more like. He keeps wondering if heâs making a mistake. If he should just go home, forget he ever ran into that long legged, poofy haired, Bambi-eyedâ
But then Steveâs there, handing Billy some froo-froo drink from inside (somehow theyâd missed each other???) before he starts giving Billy a hard time for still not having a proper winter coat. Steveâs got highlights in his hair and eyeliner on his lower lashline and a spot of foam from his drink on the tip of his nose and Jesus fuck.
Billyâs in trouble.
#anon I hope you donât mind I took some liberties#and expanded#AHHHH this was so fun to write#thank you so much#I was feeling a little writers slump and this really really REALLY inspired me to write a little something#this was like a game of telephone but fic style#<3#yaaaay#harringrove#billy hargrove#steve harrington#stranger things#my writing#write Rae write#harringrove ficlet#Harringrove fic#stranger things au#Harringrove au#Harringrove blurb#what if
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This is far from my best work, but it's 1:30am, and I needed to get this down before I slept or lost my mind. So here, take a snippet of Rook seeing Zara again for the first time in 3 years.
Trying, and failing, to keep his voice from shaking, [Rook] said âHello, Captain.â Mouth still open in surprise, [Zara] replied âWell, hello yourself.â The reality of what she was seeing seemed to hit her as she rounded the desk. âRook, is that really you?â He nodded. âItâs me.â Zara ran towards him, stopping just short of touching him, and said âWhat did she do to you?â Rookâs heart stuttered and he had to brush his fingers together to confirm Sigmarâs ring was still in place. Could she possibly see through its illusion? But then he remembered what Lanny had said. She knew where you were. His throat clenched and he choked out âTwo years.â A wave of grief swept across Zaraâs face as she said âIâm so, so sorry.â Rook shook his head vigorously. âItâs not your fault.â Zara ignored him. âIt is my fault. I failed you. As your captain, itâs my responsibility to keep you safe, and I failed you.â Rook wanted to say something, to reassure her, but she pushed on. âShe sent me letters, told me all the terrible things she was doing to you. I⊠I let you down.â Those words hit Rook with the force of a dozen cannonballs. Lanny had said that Zara knew Wolf had him, but knowing that Zara had been aware of what Wolf was doing to him⊠somehow that was more painful than any wound Wolf had ever inflicted. He barely managed to force his next words out around the lump in his throat. âWhere were you?â And why didnât you come? âShe said sheâd kill you if I came to get you. Or if I hired anyone to get you. Youâre standing here because I stopped sailing.âÂ
(honorary one-time tag for @space-writes bc I remember you enjoyed my other bits about Rook and Zara.)
#morrigan.text#my writing#dnd writing#oc: Rook#oc: Zara#btw when I say that what she said was more painful than any wound wolf inflicted I'm not just talking about her not saving him.#it also just hurts him to know that she was hurting too.#she left him with that woman for two years (to save his life yes. but she left him there all the same) and yet half of his thoughts are#''I'm sorry I hurt you.''#ROOK. MY BELOVED BABY BOY. PLEASE.#STOP APOLOGIZING.#also if anyone needs a cheering up after this please know that their conversation got interrupted by a giant snake showing up and zara#immediately asking Rook ''WHAT DID YOU DO???'' bc she knows her boy.#and he's like ''idk I just woke up like an hour ago'' and then he suddenly remembers that he swore like 3 times (town rules say no to that)#and he just goes ''SHIT'' and Zara fucking clamps her hand over his mouth and says ''take that back!''#and through her hand he says ''how the fuck am I supposed to take that back?'' and she just clamps his mouth harder.#oh. and the time he swore earlier was bc he stepped outside and got spit on by a bull and he was like ''is this normal??''#and someone said ''I've never seen that happen but these animals are part of [big snake almost-god]'s menagerie'' and hands Rook a paper#with all the town rules (there are many). And he goes ''what the fuck?'' and then he gets to the rule that reads ''no swearing'' and he goe#''SHIT!'' and then he realizes what he says and goes ''AAAHHHH.'' and I was cackling.#I was doing this on purpose btw. I knew that this would make the snake mad at me and I did it anyway bc I am a chaos gremlin.#however I did NOT know I would get Rook's only friend from before the party killed by doing this. RIP Jay. I loved you so much.#but yeah. my boy swears like a sailor bc he is one. and it did in fact get people killed. But it was funny to me.#ALSO when she met the party the first thing she said was ''thank you for saving my boy'' and I almost sobbed.#like yeah. he is her boy.#I'm going to explode just thinking about it.#okay if you read all these tags I love you forever and please feel free to yell at my idiot boy in the comments/tags/wherever.#maybe if enough of us join in he'll actually listen. (no he won't)#OH RIGHT. And the party is finally staring to realize how much of a capital L Liar this man is.#because they can literally see him catching himself about to say ''I'm fine'' every time they ask how he's doing
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felix: [takes limerick aside early in the campaign and confides, with difficulty because he's ashamed about it, that he sometimes has trouble speaking at all, because he wants at least someone to have fair warning ahead of it possibly coming up if he's gonna be traveling in a group for any amount of time]
limerick the first time felix mostly loses speech: you've been really quiet, everything okay? do you have any thoughts to add [to this discussion]? :)
limerick last session when simon lowkey assigned felix to go do a social encounter: I'll go with you, to help with the talking :)
limerick as soon as we're in the social encounter: [looks directly at felix, expectantly]
#felix: [dissociating] no yeah that's fine#the thing about the latter bit is that felix could have handled it better if he hadn't been DROPPED on a TRUSTFALL fgkjhdfg#he's not... shy per se or inherently uncomfortable about talking to people he just worries he's going to screw it up#so that was more 'oh perfect I can figure out where that npc is and limerick will talk to her. teamwork!' and relaxing into an expectation#and then getting rugpulled lol#[sigh] anyway none of this effects felix's FEELINGS about limerick really but like. it IS going to effect their relationship#ah boy he is not gonna remember if I tell him important and sensitive things about myself#and he's gonna try to be proactively kind and supportive in ways that are actively worse than if he hadn't#I guess I'd better just not confide in him or let my guard down enough to lean on him for support then :\#WHICH LIKE-- it is what it is but ah beans :')#reminding myself that pulling away from relationships rather than advocate for himself is A Character Flaw I gave the lad on purpose.....#can't set up uncomfortable situations if I'm not prepared to then play in the uncomfortable space.....#you have one(1) friend and he's so so so bad at listening to you or understanding you and you just gotta deal with that#he's gonna actively stress you out A Lot but you'd better not say anything to him about it or you'll end up with No Friends (again)#AH ALSO to be clear: this seems like a lot of projecting based on a couple minor things early in the campaign BUT#I should clarify that a lot of the 'oh god yep here we go' is coming from ME who's played dnd with this friend for many years lmao#no yeah this was Going To Happen and I'm not surprised but AH MAN. AH BEANS......
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You ever find yourself like. Planning something nice for someone else. That you don't have to and are not expected to do. And like. Having to stop yourself and remember that. Nobody does that kind of shit for you?
#the dork is being a dork#found myself looking into costs for something someone in my life REALLY wants that i/we could maybe try to do for their birthday#remembered that literally nobody ever plans shit to do for my birthdays#let alone like. listens to me when i say the kind of things i want/enjoy#i'm planning specific gifts for christmas and shit too and. i know i'm not getting anything. and if i do it's going to be like.#oh cool. a tshirt i'm not going to wear. because i don't really wear tshirts#oh cool. you're just straight up giving me your phone to use your amazon account to buy something for myself#because you don't listen when i tell you things that i like and want#like.#it would just be nice to not have to be the one to. initiate every single time.#like. i will always be down for minigolf. it is a very good go-to option for me. but still it's always 'what do you want to do for#your birthday?' and never 'hey guess what! we're doing minigolf for your birthday!'#yknow?#it's always 'look up a place to go and get times/cost/etc' and never 'hey i looked up the place how does x time sound? don't worry about#the cost i got you it's your birthday!' (i'd be happy to pay anyway for the record the money isn't the issue)#just.#yeah.
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still on the Star Wars books Speedrun and finished Jedi Apprentice 1 so I'll go eat now and start Phasma soon and finish my 15-book reading list in a month or less
#yael is reading star wars#to be fair. the jedi apprentice books are short#and i have one book i'll listen to on 3-3.5x speed and another 100 pages of jedi apprentice so it's not a lot to do in 3 days#just funny that the last list took me 2 months (and also had 15 books) and the one before took much more time#and i'm just eating through this one like I'm the very hungry caterpillar or whatever#dw i am comprehending stuff this is not just to check them off and barely understand anything#can't say the plots don't mush together in my mind#but i can tell you what happens in these books#do i remember the names of these books? now that's a different question#uhhhhhh most wanted bloodline kenobi lost stars anddddd#oh yeah there was secrets of the jedi and tcw novelization#and before that the facpovs and cloak of deception and the approaching storm#forgot they were on this list and not the last one lmao#anyway#all in all i've read 79 star wars books (legends and canon) in more or less a year?#yippeee
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hi! i wasnt on all day yesterday WAHAHAHAH but uhm. rambles. in the tags <3
#⯠ê°á starry thoughts à»ê± *·Ë#aka. back to Updates Of Apollo's Life#spoiler alert it's not super interesting. ANYWAYS MY COUSINS ARE THE CUTEST !!!!!#yesterday was really fun bcs wow i love my lil cousins! so weird to be the oldest alongside lune but yeah <3#AND. uhm. i forgot a lot of what i wanted to ramble about since yesterday but i was so tboy swag yesterday#if you get what i mean. yeah <33 AND vc and waching w my besties mwah hannah montana so true !!!!!#and i am also now back into deep fe3h brainrots but also still deep into milgram. so that is that#AND okay. idk what else#i uhh edited my rentry? interests! made it back into a rentry instead of a txti (gna use that txti for smth else now maybe?) <3#i've gotten over (mostly) my (mostly jokeful) distate when it comes to this certain media (music!)#also listened to more music hehe. AND i fixed my spotify#AND i want to finally play that cute cat (and dog?) collecting (chinese?) game i wanted to play ever since an old moot#who isnt here anymore (as far as i'm concerned. NOT IN A CONCERNING WAY BTW i mean they deactivated)#once told me about it! i installed it way back then but i didn't have the time... now i really want to again so <3#hm. that was smth i wanted to share yeah. fixing my spotify more <33#AND +. i forgot right after thinking about it ffs why am i LIKE THIS.#i forgor :(( why am i like thisssss SOBBING..........#oh right nvm i just remembered HELP ANYWAYS i've been looking at more gdocs templates and shit again#uhh. i should one day finally do proper notion stuff </3 and fix my notes <//3 fix everything tbh <///3#<- i say that and will likely never get to doing so. WHABJEGHBJS sobbing.#but yeah i will be doing more oc stuff... or something. and fixing my themes soon as well!#sorry zero ily but i want mikoto or smth idk. you stayed for 10 days. ily babe. uhm. BUT I WNA#get back to my emil or zero theme sometime in the future bcs i didn't finish em? so when i'm fixated ???#on drakenier (dod3/replicant) again. uhm. yeah.#okay that's all i hope you all are doing WELL!! <33#now time for my next class in a bit! uhm. i meant to watch the video my teacher uploaded oops. aha#also !!! proseka !!!!! uh idk where i was going w that. but. proseka !!!!! ig <3
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#okay you know what's depressing af#i just watched chappell roan's statement video about how people are treating her#and i had previously assumed the fans' behavior must be REALLY over the top if she made a whole video about it#but listening to her describe what happens to her on a regular basis made me go UMMMMM#because... almost all that shit happened to me on a practically daily basis when i lived in atlanta#like i'm not even exaggerating here. and i'm no one. not famous at ALL#this is just the way you get treated if you're a woman who spends her days walking in that city#the stuff she describes in her statement is genuinely so mild#except that it's NOT. it's totally valid for anyone to feel upset about it!#which just makes me realize once again how deeply extremely fucked up it was#that i was subjected to that shit every single fucking day for multiple years of my life#literally would not ever leave the house without noise-cancelling headphones and big reflective sunglasses#and i still had total strangers talking to me; calling to me across the street;#yelling 'compliments' at me; yelling insults at me; yelling really disgusting stuff at me#following me for blocks and blocks while cussing me out#grabbing my arm to stop me when i tried to walk away from them; or otherwise touching me without my consent#getting right up in my face all of a sudden so i legit thought i was being attacked for a moment#total strangers telling me that they'd noticed me around and apparently figured out where i lived#...i could go on for a while. but i won't. bc even just remembering it brings me down#anyway i'm not even particularly a chappell roan fan but i am feeling a lot of sad solidarity with her right now#while also thinking 'oh honey... you would not survive a month in the ATL :')'#this is one of those moments where i'm like 'oh. yeah. i guess it actually really is valid that i have legit trauma from those years. huh'#oof#street harassment cw#cosmo gyres#personal#tag rant
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STUCK IN THE WASHING MACHINE TROPE WITH STEPBROTHER BAKUGOU!!!
SMUT, Stepcest, dubcon in the beginning, Creampie, dumbification, anal play, he's aged up to 19, dirty talk, heavy degradation and Bakugou is really really mean cause he's Bakugou duh, slight daddy kink, some bad grammar bc it's not proofread. MINORS DNI!!!!
Word count - 2350
A/n - I have no idea how someone can possibly get stuck in a washing machine but just pretend you canđđ
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"Katsuki Katsuki! Holy fuck are you deaf or something?! I'm stuck!" you yelled at the top of your lungs as you tried your very best to wiggle yourself out from the washing machine opening. You can't even remember how you got yourself into this fucking mess, you were just trying to look and see if there were any more clothing pieces left behind because you've been noticing a few of your panties have gone missing the past few days and it kept getting worse and worse to the point where you barely have any left to wear, you assumed it's because you accidentally kept leaving them in the washing machine and now somehow your fucking stuck.
Heavy substantial footsteps were heard loudly outside the room before the wooden door went flying open, causing the doorknob to hit against the wall, causing a loud bang, "The fuck do you want, can't you see I'm tryna fucking play?" the annoyed blond growled at you.
"Shut up and get me the fuck out" You yelled annoyed, while kicking your legs back to get his attention.
"Woah some mess you got yourself into, sweetheart" he smirks slyly while analyzing the situation, staring down at your pretty ass poking out of the washing machine, barely even covered by those tight slutty shorts you always wore around the house that never failed to make his cock rock hard.
"Oh please, just shut up and get me out already", you kicked your feet back hoping that he was behind you so it would hit him. "I don't think that's how you speak to someone you're trying to get help from, princess".
You rolled your eyes at the annoying pet names he always calls you every fucking time but you've grown used to it by now but the constant teasing was so fucking annoying. "Listen are you going to help me or not?".
"That depends princess, are you gonna beg me to or not?" you wanted to punch him in the face so fucking badly, imagining the shit-eating grin he definitely has plastered on his face right now. "Your so fucking annoying! No way go to hell!" you yelled.
"Oh yeah? Is that so"
He chuckled as he bent down behind you, eyes fixated on the way the thin material hugged your ass cheeks so tightly and delicious, you're so vulnerable in this position, he could keep you there and pound your slutty little holes for hours and hours if he wants toâwhich is probably what he's gonna do anyways.
He pressed the pad of his thumb against your damped crotch, rubbing it slowly back and forth as he watched the way your body jolted unexpectedly.
"Wha-what are you doing! You sick fuck??" you screamed as you tried to wiggle your ass away from his hold. "Oh, come on princess, let's have some fun yeah? You might even like it" he teases before tugging down your tiny shorts, just to be greeted with your glistening dripping cunt. A string of your slick connects to the crotch of the shorts before snapping away as he pulls it down to your knee. He groaned as his eyes took in the delicious sight in front of him, "No panties? And your fucking dripping, you probably planned this out and did this purposely just so I can come and see you like this, dirty fucking slut" he lands a harsh slap on your right ass cheek as you closed your eyes in embarrassment when you realized you're basically fucking exposed to him.
"Go to fucking hell you perv" You snapped back at him, "Oh yeah? I'm the perv?, I'm not the one fucking soaked and dripping onto the floor sweetheart". He laughs mockingly.
His dick was painfully hard and eager, straining to be released from his sweatpants, what can a man do? It's not his fault his dumb little stepsister always runs around the house with those tight little booty shorts, ass almost fully exposed, basically begging to be pounded and now he has his chance so why not take it?
He pulls his sweatpants and underwear down, thick perfectly curved dick slaps against his abdomen as pre cum oozes out of the angry red tip, he grips his fist around it before pumping himself a few times while circling your clit with his thumb, "Pretty little cunt you got here princess, been hiding this from me this whole time?"
"S-stop it Katsuki, this is wrong! You're my stepbrother, we can't do this!" you whined, it's so fucking wrong and fucked up and you sure as hell knew that, you just can't help but feel your needy cunt throbbing and yearning for more, it's only natural right?
Before you could even process anything else you felt his angry tip lining up at your entrance, his thick cock head bullying and prying it's way into your weeping tight hole before he shoves it all the way in unexpectedly, knocking the wind out of you as you hissed at the sudden pain.
"Hahh fuckk- Katsuki slow down!" you moaned as he starts thrusting his hard cock in and out of you like it was his mission to bruise and mark up your silky walls with his tip, strong hands gripping onto your waist as he stretches out your poor cunt with his fat girth, splitting that pretty little cunny in half as it drips all over him. "Holy fuckk you're so fucking tight hah- shitt" he hisses as your pussy clenches around him snugly, tightest cunt he ever fucked for sure.
He started pounding you harder, gripping the oversized T-shirt you wore as he rammed himself in the tight warm space between your thighs.
"Stupid little slut, is this what you need to shut that annoying little mouth of yours, my dick pounding this little pussy?" he took a mental note to give you exactly what you wanted when you're acting up and being a little bitchy brat to him. "Sh-ut up katsu-" shit you couldn't even form proper words to even say his fucking name, "You're the fucking worse fuh-ckk" you moaned out of pleasure. You can't even lie his cock was the best you've ever had and it's only been minutes since he started fucking you so that surely says a lot, his tip was grazing against the right spots in your hole, it's like his dick knew all the parts in cunt that would make your eyes roll to the back of your head and he was stretching your stuffy cunt with his cock soo good, it turnt you into a moaning mess.
"Oh yeah I know my cock is good you little slut, Gonna fuck you so stupid with it, you won't ever think about another guy's dick other than your stepbrother's" he smirks as he lands a hard slap on your ripped ass, watching the way the thick flesh jiggles against him, bouncing back against his pelvis as he drills himself so fucking deep inside of you. You're his little glory hole, he can stuff you full and deep of his seed and use your tight pussy for hours and fuck you so dumb that you can't even think for the rest of the week if he wants to.
He circles his thumb over your neglected butthole, the puckered hole fluttering against the pad of his thumb as he notices the way your moans got sweeter and louder at the gesture. He won't be surprised if you're a slut for anal he snooped through your room a shit ton of times looking for your dirty cum-stained panties he uses to jerk off to, to know that you have several jeweled anal plugs hidden away in your drawer.
"Mmm want me to put it in baby?" he teases, adoring the way the pink ring flutters on his thumb, soo eager and hungry to be stuffed and played with, "Ye-yes pleasee!" you hiccupped, purposely winking your hole for him desperately as a form of inviting him. "Heh, how cute" he mumbled before gathering your slick from your clit to rub it on the tiny rim before slowly sinking it in little by little. He groaned as he felt your cunt throbbing around his cock as your hungry asshole swallows his thumb into the hilt.
Heavy balls slapping against your clit as your eyes roll back to the back of your head as if you were possessed or something- or maybe you were, possessed by his fucking cock hitting your favorite spots in your hole that had you seeing stars. His cock was so fucking good, mushroom tip kissing your cervix with every single one of his mean thrusts. "Fuck wish I could play with those pretty tits" he groans, head falling back as he moans, your cunt felt like fucking heaven, so warm and tight just for him.
"Kat-Katsuki m' so close" you moaned as you felt the familiar feeling in your stomach building up, "Yeah? That fast? My cock is that good huh?".
You let out a porn star-worthy moan when you felt his thick thumb sliding in and out of your tight bullied walls, matching the rough brutal pace of the pounding he was giving your poor pussy. He lifts up one of his legs and plants his feet flat on the floor so he can drill deeper into your cunt, "Fuckk yes daddy- don't stop fuck! Please don't stop" you cried out as you felt yourself approaching your release.
He chuckled mockingly, "Daddy huh? You're such a fucking dirty whore ya know that?" he slapped your ass so fucking hard that his handprint was definitely branded on your ass cheek, "Didn't know my dear little stepsis was such a cock-hungry slut, what'd ya think mom would say if she found out her innocent daughter was milking her stepbrother's cock and calling him daddy hm? Always knew you were a whore" he smirks as you whimpered and dripped to his mean words.
He pulled his thumb out of your butthole slowly and then groaned when he saw the delicious little gape he created. He brought his thumb up to his mouth before sucking it, gathering spit onto the finger then circling it around the gaped hole.
"Fuckk would you look at that, she's all prepped and ready for my cock, maybe after I'm done stuffing your cunt, I'll fill this one up too, bet you'll fucking like that", you felt his cock throbbing like crazy in your pussy as he imagined stuffing both of holes with his bitter cum and having you all plugged up n pretty with his seed deep in your asshole and the only thing keeping it in is the princess plug you have hidden away in your drawer- buried deep inside your ass.
You almost screamed when you felt him stabbing his cock into your cunt even harder, strong hands gripping your waist tightly to keep you still as he rams his hips against yours. The friction of his heavy balls slapping your clit made it feel even better as your cunt clenches around his cock, threatening to milk his balls into your pussy. You're not surprised that Bakugou was this good at fucking, after all, he was really fucking sexy and built, of course he had a lot of experience. You cried out when you felt his fingers rubbing harsh harsh circles on your clit, "Come on slut, need ya to cum on my cock, don't make me repeat myself" he grunts, head falling back when he feels your cunny squeezing around his cock soo much fucking tighter. You closed your eyes as you felt your orgasm approaching. His thrust was so fucking brutal, it's like he has some fucking personal problem and is taking it out on your poor cunt.
Before you could process anything else, you were gushing all over his pretty cock, warm liquid squirting all over his abs and pelvis and he continues pounding you through it, he lets out a slurpy moan while laughing, "Fuckk yeah that's it baby that's it, Gooddd girl" he thrusts got sloppier and sloppier when he felt his balls tightening. He didn't expect you to fucking squirt and make a mess all over him so it drove him fucking crazy.
You felt his cock twisting against your tight walls, assuming he was about to cum. Fuck, you felt so lifeless. The only thing holding you up was Katsuki's strong grip on your waist and the washing machine because you can't even think right now, your mind fully fucking clouded with his cock bullying your poor insides, splitting your sweet cunny apart. Fuck he's so mean, you shivered when you felt his fingers digging deep into your waist.
"Fuck m'gonna cum, gonna stuff this slutty cunt so full of my seed, it'll come right out your mouth bitch" he hisses before emptying his balls in your pussy, thick ropes of cum filling up your cumdump of a hole as you cried out when you felt his angry tip pushing the cum further and further into your cunny, making sure to stuff you full and not let any of it leak out or you'd have to lick it up.
He chuckles darkly when he hears you're out of breath whimpers. "Is this what you needed? A good little filling to shut that pretty mouth of yours? Because if it's dick you need to function properly you know where to find me baby" he chuckles, slowly pulling out his still-hard cock, being sooo careful that none of the cum drips out. He lines his tip up at the entrance of your butthole, smearing the cum onto the hole as it winks at him.
"Ready for the other filling?"
#my hero acedamia#mha#boko no hero academia#bnha#bakugou katuski x reader#katsuki bakugou#bakugou smut#bakugou x reader#katsuki smut#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugo x reader#bnha bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugo mha#mha bakugou#deku smut#deku x reader#deku#mha deku#izuku smut#izuku x reader#izuku midoriya#mha midoriya#mha hawks#hawk smut#hawk x reader#eijirou x reader#kirishima eijirou#bnha eijiro kirishima#kirishima smut#kirishima x reader
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Gather around, my young friends and fellow dinosaurs, let me tell you about some BULLSHIT no one ever tells you about. I'm talking about menopause and perimenopause. Now, menopause has a very stringent medical definition. You have to not have had a period for exactly 12 months and a day to be considered in menopause. All the bullshit before that day once you start going through The Change is considered perimenopause. Here's some bullshit you might experience that people actually talk about when you're in perimenopause:
- shorter time between periods
- irregular periods
- hot flashes and/or cold flashes
- fucked up sleep
- OMG NIGHT SWEATS
- Vagina as dry as the Sahara desert
- lighter periods and/or endless bleeding like it's The Flood but it's in your pants
- lack of interest in Adult Fun Times
This time of joy can last anywhere from a couple of years to a god damn decade and there's no medical way right now to predict it.
Here's some of the REAL bullshit they don't tell you about but your dinosaur aunt is here to let you know:
- You can start perimenopause in your 30s, don't listen to idiot doctors who tell you you're "too young" because they don't know your body like you do.
- Perimenopause will make you HELLA DUMB. Seriously, I'm talking Bigly broken brain. Brain fog? Check. Short term memory? Wave goodbye to it. Ability to make words form out of thoughts? Yeah, good luck to you.
- Perimenopause can cause horrible fatigue because in addition to losing estrogen, you're also losing testosterone. Oh and that also leads to muscle wasting, cool cool.
- Things might suddenly hurt more because estrogen is known to be neuroprotective.
- If you're super lucky like I am, and like to collect rare illnesses, you might even get Burning Mouth Syndrome đ
- And meanwhile, while you're going through this bullshit, you'll be getting gaslit by doctors who are operating based on 30 year old debunked data about how HRT causes breast cancer (not really) and that they shouldn't put you on it until you're in actual menopause. (Data shows starting HRT early can potentially prevent Alzheimer's in later years.)
- There are entire online clinics right now (I use Midi Health) focused on providing care for peri and menopausal patients and they will happily prescribe you HRT even if your regular PCP or OBGYN do not (if you meet the criteria). I've been pretty impressed with how holistically they view the patient. For full disclosure, I learned about them from my integrative health doctor and they do not accept Medicare (yet).
I'm 46 years old right now and I've been symptomatic for perimenopause for the last 8 years, although it's gotten the most dramatic in the past 2 years or so, which I hope means I'm almost done, holy hell. Yeah I was on the early side, but if it can happen to me, it can happen to you, so it's never too early to think about these things. And I hope to at least spare some of you the mind-fuckery I've been through because no one told me about most of this stuff, including my own mother who just DOESN'T REMEMBER what happened to her and now I completely understand why. And because I also have a connective tissue disease, I used to just dismiss my pain and fatigue as being caused by that illness rather than the loss of hormones.
Anyways, this is why we need Elders in our lives, so they can do Grandma Story Hour like I just did and validate you when the entire medical field tries to gaslight you. I hope you've found some or all of this educational/useful. Please share with your friends because we really do NOT talk about this stuff enough. (Ewwww Moon Blood!)
Stay well, and don't let the bastards grind you down!
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got some recognition lately in the form of I Saw A Post Which Referenced so Probably Some of Youse Did Too, so
do you enjoy the anti-establishment and brutally -mentally-ill bent of (some) modern (billed as, may be actually) indie music, but find it's too breathy for your taste, and/or lacking in a drumline? consider: king crimson
#king crimson#ksjdje#my dad has bad politics but good taste in music#which indoctrinated me against this website better than anything could tbh#anyway i just remembered to listen and I'm like oh yeah this is what the bg of my angry years was.#i mean this and classic rock but it was always classic rock#you don't listen to the lyrics of classic rock. it's eternal. it's a heartbeat
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Was Any Of It True?
Pairing: badboy!Azriel x goodgirl!Reader
Summary: Modern/College AU! Azâs on-again-off-again girlfriend gives Azriel a proposition: make the new bookworm fall in love with him, then break her heart, in exchange for anything he wants. He agrees, but things get complicated when he falls for Reader for real.
Based on this request! đ©·
âš Part 2 âš Part 3 âš
Warnings: angst, sexual language?, swearing, Azriel & friends being assholes
Word Count: 10.2k  oh lord sorry besties I couldnât shut my little brain off
âI'm telling you, Az, she's pissing me off. The professor loves her, and I saw that she got a 100 on the exam,â Claire was seething while she and Azriel lounged in his apartment, eating the pizza he'd ordered.
âMhmm,â he mumbled around his pizza, only half listening. Claire was always complaining about something. âAnd what did you get?â
â98! He took two points off because I didn't answer thoroughly enough,â she scoffed. âGod, I hate her. She's going to push me right off the top of the Dean's list.â
Azriel blinked. âI mean, you'll still be very near the top of the list.â
Claire groaned, throwing her napkin onto her paper plate angrily, âThat's not good enough!â
He rolled his eyes and she glared at him. âDon't be an ass! This is a big deal to me.â
âOh, I know it is. This girl is all you talk about.â
âBecause I hate her. Maybe if she got laid, sheâd be distracted enough to slip up once in a while,â she grumbled.
âYeah, maybe,â Azriel said, pulling his laptop out of his backpack and setting it on the table, a sufficient signal that he didnât want to talk about his girlfriendâs arch nemesis anymore.Â
No more than a week later, Azrielâs on-again-off-again girlfriend was off-again, and honestly, he was relieved. Claireâs obsession with being at the top of the academic food chain was bordering on insanity, and he was glad he didnât have to hear about it anymore.
He was currently at a house party that Cassian had dragged him to, with a blonde girl that he couldnât remember the name of sitting in his lap, one of her arms draped behind his neck, the other resting on his chest. She had been whispering in his ear all the things that she wanted to do to him, before Cassian interrupted, handing Azriel a shot with a grin.Â
Blondie scowled at Cassian, who just smirked back as the girl that Cass had been talking to earlier sidled up next to him, wrapping her arms around his middle.Â
Azriel knocked the shot back and handed the cup it had come in to the blonde girl. âCan you get me another one?â
She seemed annoyed, but took the cup from him anyway, striding into the kitchen.Â
âSorry for interrupting,â Cassian said, settling on the couch next to him, before pulling the girl onto his lap.
Azriel rolled his eyes. âLike I give a shit.â
Cassian snickered as the blonde girl came back, draping herself in his lap again, handing him another shot. He drank it, just as Claire appeared before him, her arms crossed over her chest, and her brow furrowed.
âWhat do you want?â he asked, his voice husky.
âI have a proposition for you.â
He smirked, making a show of tightening his grip on the blonde girlâs waist. âNo, thanks. Been there, done that.â
âNot that kind of proposition, you idiot. Can we talk privately? I think itâll be worth your while,â she said, her lips turning up into a sultry smile.
âI donât know, Claire, Iâm pretty busy right now,â he said, turning his gaze to the blonde girl, squeezing her thigh. She sighed dreamily, leaning further into him.
Claire groaned. âLook, Az, I really need your help. Please?âÂ
Azriel studied Claire, and he could see that it was true. She was wearing her most annoyed, donât-fuck-with-me face, but her eyes were pleading. Sad.
He sighed, glancing apologetically at the girl in his lap before turning back to Claire. âFine, we can talk.â
She led him into someoneâs empty bedroom and shut the door behind her.Â
âIf this is about that girl youâre obsessed with, so help me,â he said. She winced, and he threw his head back. âUnbelievable. Claire, I donât want to hear about this anymore! I donât care about your problems.â
âJust hear me out!â
He crossed his arms over his chest, and raised an eyebrow at her, waiting.
âShe actually is threatening my spot on the Deanâs list now,â she said, looking close to tears.
He looked pointedly at her. âAnd?â
âAnd I was thinking about what I said earlier⊠about how if a really hot guy was interested in her, maybe she would stop caring about her grades so much,â she said, smiling at him now.
âAnd?â Azriel just wished she would get to the point.
Claire sighed, exasperated. âI need you to seduce her.â
Azriel barked out a laugh, leaning his shoulder against the nearest wall. âYouâre kidding, right? Why would I do that?â
She stepped closer to him, trailing a finger along his chest, her touch feather-light through his black t-shirt. She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, âBecause I asked? Because Iâll give you anything you want,â she said, her voice dropping seductively.
He held her gaze, leaning down until their mouths were a breath away. Azriel heard her breath hitch.
Then he pulled away rapidly, and she blinked. âSweetheart, you know I can fuck you anytime I want, right? That is not going to persuade me to help you.â
Her brow furrowed, her nose scrunching up. Oh, she was furious. Azriel's mouth turned up into his calculated half smile.
âWhat do you want, Az?â she huffed.
âHmm,â he said, taking his time to think. Claire scowled. âI havenât decided yet. But when I need to call in a favor of my own, you have to promise to do it. No matter what,â he drawled.
To her credit, she really looked like she was thinking it through, trying to think of another way to push this girl off the list. But finally, she sighed. âDeal.â
He pushed off the wall, walking towards the door. âAlright, so I just have to seduce the bookworm? Easy.â
Claire shook her head, her eyes still alight with her anger. âNo, if Iâm going to agree to any favor you could possibly want, youâre going to have to go further. You need to make her fall in love with you.â
Azriel bristled a bit, leaning against the door now. âI know Iâm an asshole, but that seems too far, donât you think?â
âNo. If sheâs going to be distracted enough that her grades will slip, you need to make it seem real,â she said, and then smiled as if she had a wicked thought.
âWhat?â Azriel asked.
âAnd then you break her heart, right before exams,â she said excitedly, her eyes burning with enthusiasm now. âYou tell her, in front of everyone, that it was all fake.â
He rubbed at his bicep, a nervous tic that Claire picked up on immediately. âJesus, Claire. I donât want to ruin this girlâs life.â
She arched her brow. âWhy not? Sheâs ruining mine.â
Azriel rolled his eyes and Claire pounced, âAny favor, Az. Any time, you can tell me to do whatever you want,â she smirked.Â
He groaned, pinching his nose. âFine,â he ground out. âWhere do I find her?â
Claire beamed. âWhere else would a nerd be? The library, of course.â
---
You shifted in your seat, starting to feel sore after poring over your notes for hours. Maybe you should go for a walk. Maybe. But, you still had so much to doâŠ
Groaning, you crossed your arms on the table, laying your head down on top of them. Just a minute, you just needed a tiny break --
âStudying always makes me feel like that, too,â said a low, male voice.Â
You lifted your head, bewildered, and nearly choked on your own spit. The guy who was for some reason deigning to talk to you was⊠well, what other way was there to say it? He was drop-dead gorgeous.Â
His face was stoic as he sauntered up to your table, his jet black hair was just a tad unruly, his hazel eyes burning into yours. But it was his body that made the breath completely escape your lungs. He was dressed in all black, his t-shirt hugging his chest and his biceps, showing off his every muscle, and there were swirling black tattoos peeking out from under his sleeves.Â
All you could do was stare as he took the seat across from you, leaning back with his arms crossed like the two of you did this every day.
âWhat class is that for?â he asked, nodding to the textbook open in front of you, the dozens of papers scattered around you.
âOrganic Chemistry,â you said, trying to sound like you were normal and not completely surprised by this handsome stranger finding you in your favorite quiet corner of the library.
He let out a low whistle, âDamn, you are smart.â
âWhat, did someone tell you I was?â you asked.Â
âNo, I just figured when I saw all the --â he gestured to your cluttered workspace, âhomework stuff.â
You arched an eyebrow. âHomework stuff?â
His mouth turned up the slightest bit, holding up his hands like he was surrendering. âYou caught me. Iâm not much of an academic.â
âThen what are you doing here?â you asked curiously.
âNow, that is an excellent question,â he said, and really did seem like he was questioning it. âGirls? Parties? Though I could get girls anywhere and I don't particularly enjoy parties.â
You nodded. âAh,â you said. âGot it.â
He braced his arms on the table, leaning forward. âI take it youâre not into that kinda thing?â
A dry laugh escaped from your throat, âDefinitely not. Iâm really only here for the--â you mimicked his gesture from earlier, âhomework stuff.â
He barked out a laugh, his stoic face completely transforming for the briefest of moments. You couldnât help but stare. âYouâre telling me all you do is study? A beautiful girl like you? Please tell me youâve been to at least one party,â he said, looking at you incredulously.Â
You blushed. âNo, I havenât been to any.â
You braced yourself for impact, for the teasing or insults to come, but he just smiled softly. âYou wanna go to one with me tonight?â
Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. âYou donât even know my name.â
The side of his mouth quirked up into a smile, his eyes dancing with amusement. âWhat's your name?â
Rolling your eyes, you told him.
âNice to meet you. I'm Azriel.â He raised his eyebrows, âSo? Party?â
âI thought you just said you don't like parties!â
âTrue, but I do love the thought of corrupting a sweet, innocent bookworm,â he smirked.
âNo, thanks.â You couldn't imagine yourself going to a house party, especially not with a stranger.
Azriel's cool-guy demeanor seemed to drop the slightest bit. âWhy not?â
You looked at him pointedly. âI don't know you. And I have no interest in being corrupted. Why do you want me to come to this party so badly anyway?â
He shrugged casually. âI like you.â
âYou don't know me!â
âSee, that, right there,â he snapped his fingers and pointed at you. âYou're funny. Smart, beautiful. What's not to like?â
You forced yourself to hold his gaze, even as a blush rose to your cheeks. âI'm not going to a party with someone I don't know. They make true crime documentaries about that sort of thing.â
He seemed to contemplate that for a moment. âOkay, you make a fair point. What do you want to do then?â
âWhat do you mean?â
âYou can pick our first date, since you didn't like my idea.â
âWhat date?â You blanched.
He arched an eyebrow. âOur first date? Weren't you listening?â
You studied him for a moment. For the life of you, you could not figure out what this guy's angle was.Â
As if reading your mind, he said softly, âLook, I just saw you and thought you were really pretty, and that it looked like you could use a break from studying. That's it,â he held his hands up again. âI didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. If you want me to go, I'll go.â
For a beat longer, you watched him, his body language, his ridiculously pretty face. What was the harm, really? You sighed, tore off a scrap of paper from your notebook, scribbled out your number, then handed it to him. âI need to study. If you text me later, I'll let you know where we're going on the first date.âÂ
His face broke out into what might have been the first genuine smile you'd seen from him. He took the paper from you, his fingers brushing against yours.
âCan't wait.â
You were half expecting to never hear from Azriel again. But just a few hours later, as you were eating dinner in your apartment, your phone chimed with a text.Â
Az: Done studying yet?
It was an effort to bite down your smile.Â
You: Taking a break for dinner.Â
It was less than a minute before he responded.Â
Az: Dinner? Is that what our first date is going to be?
You didnât try to hide your smile this time.
You: A little cliche, donât you think?
Az: Oh, absolutely. So⊠what are we doing?
You: Meet at the tennis courts at 7 tomorrow?
Az: Weâre playing tennis?
You: No, but Iâm not giving you my address. And Iâm not giving away the surprise.
Az: So smart. So mysterious. Iâm swooning.
You: Shut up.
Az: See you tomorrow ;)
You tossed your phone to the side, forcing yourself to focus back on your schoolwork.
The following day you parked your car by the empty tennis courts on campus just before 7. It was early spring; the weather finally started to warm up enough to not be too chilly in the evening. Still, you rubbed your arms nervously. You were starting to regret this. You didnât know this guy at all. What if it went horribly wrong?
Before you could contemplate bailing, a familiar figure rode up on a jet black motorcycle. Of course this guy had a motorcycle. You couldn't see his face underneath the helmet, but you would already recognize those tattooed arms anywhere.Â
He parked his bike, smoothly sliding off it and taking his helmet off before sauntering over to you. âHey, beautiful.âÂ
You rolled your eyes, sure that he had said that to a million girls on a million dates before.
âWhat? Donât do that,â he said softly, his smile softening and his gaze raking down your body. âYou are beautiful.â
âThank you,â you said quietly, giving in.Â
âSo,â he said, towering over you. âWhatâs the plan?â
You smiled. âHowâs your mini golf game?â
He raised an eyebrow, looking a little skeptical. âMini golf? Thatâs what youâre choosing?â
âYes, it is. Do you have something to say about that?â you teased.Â
His eyes sparked at the tone in your voice. âNope. Nothing at all.â He nodded to his motorcycle. âYou wanna hop on the bike?â
You looked pointedly at him and he laughed. âDidnât think so,â he gestured to your car. âLead the way.â
Your nerves started to dim as the two of you fell into a rhythm going through the course. The two of you were just talking and laughing like it was normal. It was⊠fun, actually.
âShit,â Azriel muttered as he overshot the hole. Again.
You laughed and his eyes flicked over to you, lingering a bit. âYouâre good at this, bookworm,â he said as he took another shot, sinking it into the hole this time. You watched, leaning against your putter, having finished that hole two shots ago.Â
Shrugging, you said, âI used to go with my family a lot.â
He placed his hand on the small of your back as you walked to the next hole. You cleared your throat, focusing on your steps, on your breathing, on anything but how it felt to have him touch you so casually. âWhat about you?â
âWhat about me?â he asked as you dropped your ball onto the green.Â
You took your shot before you answered. The ball landed just shy of the hole. âWhatâs your family like?â
âMy familyâŠâ he trailed off, clearing his throat, setting up his shot. He paused to look at you for a moment before he swung. âItâs complicated.â
He hit the ball and it stopped right next to yours.Â
âIâm sorry, I didnât mean to pry,â you said, as the two of you walked further down the hole.
âNo, you didnât. Itâs just⊠I donât really talk about them with anybody.â
You nodded, not sure where to go from here.
Azriel smiled reassuringly, nudging you lightly with his shoulder. âStop worrying.â
âIâm not worrying,â you claimed, your voice an octave too high.Â
âYou are. I can tell.â
You bit your lip to hide your smile as you sunk your ball into the hole.
âI think Iâm going to need some pointers from you on the next hole,â he grumbled.Â
âI guess I could help you out,â you laughed.Â
So, when you got to the next hole, the last hole, he stepped so close that your bodies were nearly touching. You tried to control your breathing.Â
âYouâre gonna help me out?â he murmured, his eyes flashing down to your lips for a moment.Â
âOkay,â you breathed.Â
He stepped behind you, his body pressed against your back, wrapping his arms around you, his hands covering yours on the club.Â
âHow is this going to help you, exactly?â you asked, your voice slightly unsteady.Â
His lips brushed your ear as he said, âOh, trust me, itâs helping.â
You couldnât say anything. Could hardly breathe.
âWhat do you think Iâm doing wrong?â He murmured.Â
You swallowed. âYouâre hitting it too hard. Not exactly rocket science.â
âMmm. That makes sense. I do tend to go⊠hard.â
That finally had you coming to your senses. You stepped out of his grasp, turning back to glare at him when you were a safe distance away.Â
The side of his mouth turned up into a smile. âSorry. I couldn't help myself.â
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him again. âJust take your shot.â
He smirked at you for a moment, before he swung, and the ball went right into the hole.Â
He turned to you, his eyes wide. You laughed and he hugged you, picking you up and spinning you around.Â
You let out an involuntary squeal of surprise, and he laughed, gazing into your eyes as he set you back on the ground. âThanks for the help.â
âI think youâve been playing me this whole time,â you joked.Â
His smile fell a little, his eyes sobering.Â
âWhatâs wrong?â you asked. When he just stared at you, his expression unreadable, you added, âAzriel, I was joking.â
He blinked and then his natural, stoic expression was back as he took a step closer to you. âRight. I think youâre just a good teacher.â
You just looked at him, trying to decipher the changes in his mood, who he really was underneath the gruff exterior.
He smiled faintly, stepping even closer. âWhat are you thinking about?â
You had to crane your neck to look him in the eye now. âI'm trying to figure out what you're thinking about.â
Azriel's smile turned into a smirk. âI'm thinking⊠that I really want to kiss you. But I don't want to scare you away.â
Heat flooded your face and his smile turned softer as he cupped your cheek gently with a rough hand. âWould it scare you away?â He murmured.
âI -- don't know,â you said honestly.
His hazel eyes dipped to your lips and stayed there. âI think I'm gonna have to take the risk,â he said, his voice low, husky.
âI think so, too,â you breathed.
His free hand slinked around your waist, gently pulling your body into his. Your heart thundered in your chest as he leaned down, slowly bringing his lips to yours. He seemed to give you a moment to process, and you felt him smile against your mouth when you started to kiss him back, your fingers curling around his bicep, his shoulder.
You were breathless by the time he pulled away, and as the two of you drove back to the tennis courts, you couldn't help but hope that it would happen again by the end of the night.
When you parked your car near his motorcycle in the abandoned lot, he lingered, his gaze holding yours, dropping to your mouth again.
He shot you a crooked smile. âAren't you gonna walk me to my bike?â
Rolling your eyes playfully, you got out of the car, walking over to the motorcycle and settling against the fence near it, crossing your arms over your chest. âHappy now?â You asked.
Slowly, he sauntered over to you, his eyes twinkling under the stars. He raised his arm, twining his fingers in the chain link fence above your head, leaning his body towards you, but not quite touching. He gazed down at you, still sporting that half smile. âVery happy,â he murmured.
Your breath hitched and when his smile widened, you knew he heard it.Â
He held your gaze as he leaned down, bringing his mouth to yours again. You let yourself fall deeper into the kiss this time, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into you.Â
When he finally pulled away, he was grinning. âWant to go for a ride before you head home?â He said, nodding to his motorcycle.
You had stepped far enough out of your comfort zone for today. âMaybe next time.â
He raised his eyebrows in amusement. âSo you're giving me a next time?â
Damn. You blushed. âI said maybe.â
âUh huh, sure,â he said, leaning in again so his lips were barely an inch from yours. âYou can't wait to see me again,â he whispered.
You shoved him away lightly and he chuckled, backing up towards his bike, but keeping his eyes on you. âUntil next time, then. Have a good night, bookworm.â He winked before putting his helmet on and speeding away.
A few weeks, a few dates, and several kisses later, you couldn't deny that Azriel was on your mind quite a bit.
You had never thought that someone like him would be interested in someone like you, but he seemed to prove time and time again that he did indeed like you. He texted you flirty little things every day, making you blush in class. He asked about your day, and seemed to genuinely be listening, and he would do pretty much anything you wanted on your dates. Last week, the two of you had gone to a local bookstore and he had watched you browse, a small smile on his face. He ended up picking out a book he wanted you to read and you did the same for him. He had been sending you daily updates on his progress through the book. Slowly, you were starting to let your walls down, despite yourself.
So, when he asked you to finally go to a party with him, to meet his friends, you accepted. You still felt cautious: partying had never been something that you were remotely interested in, but you trusted him.
---
Azriel knew he had to tread this next part carefully. Things had been going well with you. He let you take control of your time together so you would be comfortable, and honestly, he was actually having a really good time getting to know you and seeing where you would take him next.
And when you kissed him⊠God. It was always a struggle to keep his hands on your waist, to stay PG. He wished he could explore things further with you in that regard, but he wouldn't let himself go there. Not when your broken heart was the finish line.
He rarely let himself think about it -- the deal that he had made with Claire. Being with you felt so natural that he usually forgot he was supposed to be acting. That he was supposed to be leading you to Claireâs revenge.
He had convinced you to come to a party, upon Claire's request so she could see the progress he had made with you. You had said yes, he assumed because you trusted him enough now. The thought made his stomach roll. He was really starting to hate himself for getting mixed up in this.
Azriel acted differently around you than he did around the rest of the general population. At a young age he had learned to keep quiet, to not show a single emotion on his pretty face, to be tough, or be punished.Â
With you⊠he couldn't help but smile. Couldn't stop the laughs that he usually stomped down for the rest of the world.
So, having his two worlds collide at this partyâŠhe didn't know exactly how to navigate it. Deep down, it made his heart swell that you trusted him enough to help you navigate something so far out of your comfort zone. But if his friends saw the way he acted around you, he would never hear the end of it.
This would be a mess.
If Azriel wasn't leaning against his motorcycle when you exited your apartment building, he may have fallen over. You were wearing skintight jeans and a black tank top that showed more cleavage than he ever imagined he'd see from you. His fingers flexed on his biceps. He wanted to pull you back into your apartment and spend an hour peeling those clothes away inch by inch.
He blinked the lust away, trying to maintain his stoic expression, but failed, as he always did with you. He smiled at you and you smiled back.Â
He could tell by the way you carried yourself as you neared him that you were nervous. âHey, beautiful,â he drawled his usual greeting as you wrapped your arms around his waist in your usual greeting.
âHi,â you said, a little sheepishly. His eyes must have lingered on your curves a little too long because your eyes widened a bit, and you bit your lip nervously as you pulled away from him. He nearly groaned. âIs it too much? Do I look stupid?â
Azriel placed his hands on your shoulders gently, dipping his head to look you in the eyes. âYou look amazing. Seriously.â
You blushed and murmured, âThank you.â
He had to turn away, to grab your helmet, so you wouldn't see how much you affected him. He fucking loved it when he made you blush like that.Â
Azriel turned back to you, holding up the helmet, his eyebrows raising with amusement. âYou ready to join the dark side, bookworm?â
You sighed, shifting on your feet.Â
âIt'll be okay,â he said softly. âI got you.â
You nodded, seeming to resolve yourself, and reached for the helmet with slightly shaking hands.
He helped you make sure it was on correctly, his fingers brushing your chin, your neck. He bit back a smile as you shivered.
Azriel held your hand as you got settled on the back of the bike, showing you where to put your feet, and how to shift your weight with him.
When you seemed at least somewhat comfortable, he slid his helmet on, smoothly setting onto the motorcycle. You wrapped your arms around his middle, pressing your chest into his back. You were already holding him like your life depended on it, and he beamed freely underneath the helmet.
âHold on tight,â he shot back at you, before he revved the engine, taking off much more gently than he normally would.
He tried not to think about the feel of you pressed into him, how tightly you were holding on. It didn't work. He wanted to drive you everywhere.
He couldn't resist reaching back to briefly squeeze your thigh at a red light. âHow are you doing?â
âGood,â you said. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard a smile in your voice.
Too soon in Azriel's opinion, they had made it to the party. He parked, offering you his hand to help you get down.
When he pulled the helmet off your head, he was pleased to see that you were indeed smiling.
âHave fun?â He smirked.
âI did, actually,â you said, sounding a little breathless.Â
âWhenever you need a ride, you just let me know,â he winked.
You laughed, glancing behind him at the house.Â
He took your hand in his, squeezing reassuringly. You seemed to relax a bit. âWe can leave whenever you want, okay?â
Taking a deep breath, you nodded and smiled nervously up at him.
You were doing this for him, he realized. Because he had asked you to. His heart constricted, guilt churning in his gut again as he led you inside, your hand squeezing his tightly.Â
His shoulders tightened as he led you through the crowd, making sure you were tucked in close to him.Â
âYou want a drink?â he asked, as you made your way to the kitchen.
âSure,â you said.
He rifled through what was on the sticky counter, trying to find something not disgusting for you to drink, making sure you stayed close to him.Â
Finally handing you a cup, he put your hand on the small of your back, guiding you to a corner of the living room that wasnât yet very crowded. He took a seat on the couch and you settled in next to him, tucked closely into his side.Â
You smiled, leaning your shoulder into his. âIs this really it?â You asked skeptically. âYou just sit here and drink around a bunch of drunk idiots?â
He laughed before he could stop himself. âI mean, yeah, thatâs pretty much it,â he said, dipping his head to say in your ear. âOr we could dance. Or make out,â he smiled against your ear.Â
You blushed and he laughed again, kissing your temple.Â
Azriel wrapped an arm around your shoulders as Cassian and Rhys showed up, grinning at you, their eyebrows raised. Azriel fought the urge to roll his eyes. They had seen him laughing with you, kissing you, he knew. He had nearly forgotten where he was, why he was here with you. He loved them, but he wasnât sure what they would say to you about him. They didnât know about his arrangement with Claire, and he had been keeping details about his relationship with you as vague as possible.
âSo youâre the one Az has been spending all his time with,â Cassian grinned.Â
You smiled sheepishly, leaning further into Azriel. âI guess.â
Azriel nodded to his friends. âThis is Cassian and Rhysand. Theyâve been my best friends since we were kids.â
He could tell you were intrigued by that. He still hadnât told you anything about his childhood.Â
Before you could ask any questions, Claire showed up next to Azrielâs friends, her expression the very picture of friendship. It unsettled him so much that he held you closer to him, so you were practically on his lap.Â
âHi Claire,â you smiled, and his heart sank. You really had no idea how Claire felt about you.Â
Claire smiled back. âHey. I never expected to see you here.â
âIâm trying new things,â you said, smiling lightly at Azriel.
He couldnât take it, having you so close to Claire, seeing that trust you had in him when you looked at him. He cleared his throat, standing up and offering you his hand. You took it, smiling politely at Claire and his friends as he led you through the house, out to the backyard.Â
âIs everything okay?â You asked, looking up at him curiously as he leaned his back against the side of the house.
âYeah,â he said, unable to stop the smile that rose to his face as you gazed at him with your big doe eyes. He tugged you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. âI just wanted you to myself for a minute.â
âOh yeah?â you flushed, and before he could stop himself, he kissed your cheeks, feeling the heat against his lips before his lips met yours in a slow, sensual kiss.
He was still kissing you when he heard Cassian snickering close by. âOh shit, heâs whipped.â
Azriel rolled his eyes as he pulled away from you, but kept his hold on your waist. âHow am I whipped?â
Cassianâs eyes gleamed with mischief and Azrielâs heart started to pound. âSneaking out here on your own. Youâre usually content to stay on the couch to make out with your girl of the week.â
Your body tensed in his arms and Azriel groaned internally, glaring at Cassian, who smirked. âOh, she didnât know? My bad, Az.â
Azrielâs expression was enough to send Cassian back inside.Â
Your brow furrowed as you stepped back, out of his reach. âGirl of the week?â
He winced. âHeâs being dramatic.â
You raised your eyebrows, glaring at him, crossing your arms over your chest.Â
It was kind of adorable, but Azriel reigned in that comment. He held up his hands in surrender. âOkay, look. I told you when we met that I go to parties and meet girls there. But things are different now,â he said, taking a step closer to you. And it was true. Things were different. You had been the one haunting his thoughts since that first date. He had barely looked at anyone else since.
After a moment, you sighed, and he knew you wouldnât resist when he wrapped his arms back around you.Â
âCassianâs an idiot,â he murmured, his focus back on your lips that he was dying to kiss again.
âSo Iâm not the girl of the week?â you said quietly, your eyes on his lips now.Â
He smiled. âWeâve been seeing each other for several weeks, havenât we?â
You nodded, biting your lip, before you stood up on your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips. Azriel was surprised by his own relief. âAre we going back inside?â you asked.Â
âNot if you donât want to,â he said, wrapping his arms around your waist again.Â
Pursing your lips in thought, you said, âMmm. Letâs go back in.â
âYeah?â he said, surprised.
You smiled up at him, resting your chin on his chest. His heart melted. âIâm trying to be brave.â
He kissed your forehead, smiling faintly. âIâm proud of you, bookworm.â
You beamed, your whole face lighting up.Â
Azriel led you inside, his hand on the small of your back, trying to manage the swell of emotions in his chest. He didnât have the time to process them right now.Â
The two of you mingled throughout the party for a few hours, and you even went so far as to dance with him for a bit, your body pressed against his, your hips swaying to the beat of the pounding music. He could hardly believe it, the way you let loose with him.
He stopped in the bathroom before the two of you left. He wasnât gone for more than a few minutes, but when he returned, he spotted you near the kitchen, backing away from a guy who was clearly very drunk and very horny. Azriel saw red.Â
Before he could take a second to think, Azriel was upon the bastard, punching him in the jaw.Â
He heard you yelp. The asshole staggered back, swearing, his hand cradling his jaw. Azriel barely spared him a glance, his hands gently holding either side of your face, his gaze raking your body, searching for any sign that he had touched you.Â
Your eyes were wide, your breathing labored, but you seemed physically fine. âAre you okay?â he asked.Â
You nodded, your eyes still frantic.Â
He wrapped his arm around your shoulders as he led you outside. Claire caught his eye on the way out, hers shining with delight. He scowled at her.Â
When you made it outside, he hugged you to his chest. âIâm sorry.â
âFor what?âÂ
âI shouldnât have left you alone.â
You snorted. âYou were gone for a few minutes. Itâs not your fault that men are gross.â
âAre you okay, really?â He asked, pulling back to look you in the eye.
âIâm okay,â you said quietly.Â
He held you close to him, gazing at you for another moment before you smiled faintly. âYou really didnât need to punch him, you know.â
He winced slightly, remembering the yelp you let out when he threw that punch. âSorry.â
âDonât be,â you said, rising on your tiptoes to kiss him.Â
Azriel held you until his heart rate slowed down, until his body was convinced that you were okay.
Later, after he had dropped you off at your apartment, Azriel stayed awake, tossing and turning, so many images from that night racing through his mind.
The way his heart constricted every time you smiled at him, the horror he felt at seeing Claire play nice, the terror and rage that flowed through his entire body when he saw that creep bothering youâŠ
Azriel knew then, that he had real feelings for you. Shit.
---
âCâmon, baby, youâve been studying for ages already,â Azriel murmured, standing behind you as you sat at your desk in your apartment, his arms draped around your chest, his lips trailing down your neck.
Your toes curled, heat running right through you. You wanted to give in. You really did. ButâŠ
You sighed. âIâm sorry, Az. I have this big exam on Tuesday. And finals are only a few weeks away.â
For some reason, that comment made his entire body stiffen. âOh, yeah. Finals.â
You snorted. âDonât tell me you forgot about finals.â
âNo, I just⊠theyâre soon.â His voice wavered a bit as he stood up fully. You twisted in your seat to look up at him. His brow was furrowed, his eyes swimming with anxiety.Â
âWhatâs wrong?â You asked, reaching up and cupping his cheek with your hand. âDo you need me to help you study?â He had never seemed to care about his grades before.
He leaned into your touch for a moment, shooting you a forced smile. âNo, itâs okay. Iâll be fine. I should go, and let you study.â He stooped down to press a quick kiss to your lips. âI wonât distract you anymore today.âÂ
Before you could even respond, he was out the door.Â
You turned back to your notes, but couldnât digest any of the information. That was⊠weird.
Azriel and you had been dating for months now. Though neither of you had ever put a label on it, you both knew you were exclusive.Â
In the privacy of your own mind, you secretly loved that he acted so differently around you than he did out and about on campus. You felt like you got a different version of him that was saved especially for you. It made your heart swell, all the little things he did for you each day.Â
You were also willing to admit, to yourself only, that you were absolutely in love with him. You had known for weeks now, and had been debating whether or not you should tell him.Â
He had been the one that made you step out of your comfort zone, to try new things, to be brave.Â
So, soon. You would tell him soon.
---Â
Azriel had to get out of the deal. Now.
He remembered the exact moment that he realized he was in love with you. It was a random afternoon, the two of you were watching TV at his apartment. He was laying on the couch, you were laying on top of him, your legs intertwined with his, your head on his chest. He was absentmindedly running his fingers through your hair while you giggled about something that happened on the show.Â
And he had the thought. I want my whole life to look like this.Â
And he knew. He loved you.
This had scared him, obviously, on multiple levels. He had never loved anyone before, never knew what that looked like. Yet somehow, he knew without a doubt that it was true.Â
And then, of course, there was the deal he had made with the devil.Â
He had known early on that he would have to get out of the deal. He had just been putting it off, hoping that Claireâs insanity would die down throughout the semester.Â
But now his time was up.Â
He prayed to whoever might be listening that Claire would listen to reason. That she would call it off. He couldnât bear the thought of hurting you. He wouldnât do it.Â
Claire smirked as she opened the door. âIâve been wondering when you would show up. Itâs been a long time, Az,â she purred.Â
Azriel stalked into her apartment, barely sparing her a glance. âThe dealâs off, Claire.â
She cocked her head to the side, amused. âOh? Why is that?â
âBecause itâs insane,â he growled. âYou were insane for coming up with it, and I was insane for agreeing to it. Iâm done.â
Slowly, her lips curled up into a lethal smile. âYou fell for her.â
Azriel blinked.Â
Claire cackled. âOh, this is rich. You actually fell for the bookworm? I never thought Iâd see the day. No wonder you havenât been crawling into my bed.â
He scowled. âThe dealâs off,â he repeated in the tone he used to scare people away.
She really looked at him then, her eyes bearing into his. After a moment, she finally said, âOkay.â
He raised an eyebrow. âOkay? Just like that?â
Claire shrugged. âYou were right. It was an insane plan. And it didnât even work,â she said bitterly. âYou suck at your job. Sheâll still be on the top of the Deanâs list, even after all your lovey-dovey shit.â
A swell of pride ran through him at the thought of your name at the top of that list.
âAlright,â he said, his brow furrowed, trying to figure out if there was some kind of angle here. But, there didnât seem to be one.Â
He left quickly, his heart and mind feeling lighter. The guilt of how the two of you started would always be there, he knew. But now when he looked into the future, it wasnât a hazy blur of nothingness that he saw. It was you.
---
The week before finals, there were parties everywhere. So you heard.Â
You had gone to a few more with Az over the past few months. It still wasnât exactly your thing, but you didnât mind going, especially with Azriel being so attentive to you every time you did.Â
Azriel didnât seem particularly interested in going to this one, but his friends had been complaining that they never saw him anymore, so he agreed to go. And you had agreed to go with him, if only to take a break from your near constant studying these days.
You followed him through the crowd, his hand clasping yours, as always. Drinks in hand, you made your way to the outskirts of a group of people who were dancing and you joined them, Azriel pulling you in close to him, moving against you.
A laugh burst from you, and Azriel grinned, leaning down to kiss you.Â
You were so happy, you thought. So happy in that moment with him. You knew people watched you, as they usually did when Azriel was like this with you. You didnât care.
When he pulled back from the kiss, he gazed down at you, his eyes swimming with affection.Â
âI love you,â you said before you could stop it.
His eyes sobered, and he pulled you in even closer, so your bodies were flush together. He leaned his forehead against yours, and in a crowd of people, Azriel said, a soft smile on his face, âI love you, too.â
Your heart leaped and you grinned, threading your fingers in his hair and bringing his lips to yours.Â
Suddenly, the music stopped, and from the TV came a voice. Azrielâs voice.Â
Everyone turned to the sound, curiously, watching. The video was jumpy, filming the floor, like it was filmed from someoneâs pocket.Â
Azriel tensed, his arms still around you. âFuck,â he said. âWe need to go.â
Utterly confused, you didnât argue as he pulled you through the crowd. But you stopped dead in your tracks when you heard video Azriel say, âSweetheart, you know I can fuck you anytime I want, right? That is not going to persuade me to help you.â
Your blood ran cold, shock jolting from your heart down to your toes. Azriel was tugging on your arm, but you didnât budge as you heard Claireâs voice next.Â
Claire. He had been talking to Claire. What did he mean, that he could fuck her whenever he wanted? You hadnât even known that they knew each other. When was this filmed?
âBaby, please, Iâll explain everything, but we need to go,â Azriel was saying, sounding frantic.Â
You wrenched your arm from his grasp, weaving through the still crowd, moving toward the TV. You heard him swear, calling your name behind you, but you kept moving.
They were saying something about a deal, about him owing her a favor. You couldnât make sense of it, not until you heard video Azriel say, âAlright, so I just have to seduce the bookworm? Easy.â
Video Claire responded, âNo, if Iâm going to agree to any favor you could possibly want, youâre going to have to go further. You need to make her fall in love with you.â
It was then that you noticed Claire, next to the TV, her eyes locked on you, smirking.Â
You couldnât breathe, your legs were going to give out --Â
It was all fake. All of it.Â
Azriel caught up to you then, picking you up, slinging you over his shoulder. You didnât protest, the shock setting in. You had to get out of there, even if it was him that carried you out.Â
When he made it outside, you pounded on his back with your fists. âPut me down, you asshole!â
âSorry,â Azriel said, wincing as he gently set you on your feet. âYou looked like you were going to pass out.â
âLike you even care,â you spat, storming away from him.Â
âOf course I care. Please, just give me a minute to explain,â he pleaded, following you.Â
âExplain what?â You stopped abruptly, spinning around to face him. âThat you played me for a fool? Made me fall in love with you as a sick joke? Well, congratulations, it worked,â you said, pouring every ounce of venom that you could muster into your voice. You turned back around and continued walking as tears started pricking your eyes. You refused to let him see you cry.
âIt may have started out that way, but itâs not like that anymore. From the first date, I had feelings for you. I love you. You have to believe that,â he said, right on your heels.Â
You knew he could catch up with you easily if he wanted to. He was hanging back, trying to give you your space. That pissed you off even more. âHow could I possibly believe that?âÂ
âBecause you feel it, I know you do,â he said, finally wrapping his fingers around your wrist.
You tugged your hand free, but stopped walking, needing to catch your breath. You faced him. âWhat was the point?â You asked quietly. âWhy make the deal?â
It didnât matter. But you had to know.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. âClaire and I used to date. When you transferred, you pushed her off the top spot of the Deanâs list. She hated you for it. She said she would give me any favor I wanted if I made you fall for me⊠to distract you from school.â
You were so surprised that the tears you had been holding in started to fall. You angrily swatted them away.Â
Azriel continued, âI said no at first, but she was persistent, andâŠâ he took a deep breath, darting his eyes away from you for a moment. They were shining with unshed tears. âI have no excuse. I agreed to it. Iâm an asshole. But you made me want to be different.â
âWas any of it true?â You heard yourself saying, your voice breaking.Â
He lifted his hand, like he was about to reach for yours, then let it drop, thinking better of it. âIt was all true. From our first date, you were breaking down my walls, making me smile, making me laugh.â He smiled sadly. âI fell for you. I love you,â he said, and now a lone tear did slide down his cheek. âI called it off with Claire ages ago. I told her I was out, and she agreed. I⊠I didnât know she filmed it.â
You wanted to believe him, that he really did love you. But⊠âEven if you do love me, that doesnât change what you did,â you said in a small voice.Â
Azriel sniffed, wiping the tears off his face. âI know. I am so, so sorry.â
Shaking your head, backing away from him, you choked out, âI donât -- I canât. I canât do this right now.â
He took a step toward you, his eyes pleading. âPlease. Please donât go.â
Turning your back to him, you walked away, barely registering the pavement beneath your feet, the direction you were going.Â
Azriel called your name, but you kept walking.
You knew he had followed you home, not letting you walk alone at night. You watched his form retreat after you locked yourself inside your apartment with trembling hands.Â
You went to bed, not even bothering to change. Laying on your back, watching your ceiling fan spin around and around, you tried to identify all that you were feeling: shame, humiliation, sorrow. Fury.Â
Replaying all that had happened between you, all the times he was probably laughing at you with his friends behind your back. You felt nauseous.Â
How could he do this? How could he have played you for so long?
What the hell were you supposed to do now?
You woke up to several missed calls and texts from Azriel, all sent hours apart. It seemed that he didnât get any sleep at all.
I am so sorry. Iâm the worst person in the world. I know that.Â
I know what youâre thinking right now. I know that youâre going over it all in your head. But, it was real, baby. It was all real. I swear it was. I love you so much.
Iâm hoping youâre getting some sleep. Can I see you today?
Groaning, you tossed your phone to the side, and took a long shower. By the time you got out, someone was knocking on your door.Â
You quickly dressed in some old pajamas and called through the door, âGo away, Az.â
âWell, at least youâre alive,â you heard him say. âCan I please come in? Two minutes?â
You threw the door open, furious. âNo, you cannot come in. You humiliated me. You used me. You had your fun. What else could you possibly want?â
Azriel was standing on the threshold, his hands in his pockets nervously, his facial expression looked like you had just slapped him. âI want to apologize! I want to make things better, thatâs what I want.â
Biting your lip to keep from crying, you said quietly, âGo away.âÂ
His face fell. âI love you.â
Shaking your head, you said, âYou donât.â
He took a step forward, wedging his foot on the door jam so you couldnât close it on him. âI do,â he said, his eyes pleading, baring into yours. âYou know that I do. You know Iâve never let anybody else see the real me. Nobody but you.â
Tears spilled onto your cheeks then, and he wiped them away gently. Despite everything, you couldnât back away. âIt doesnât matter,â you croaked. âYou only went out with me so you could help her ruin my life.â
Azriel opened his mouth, as if to reply, but then shut it.Â
You laughed humorlessly. âSee? Even you donât have a comeback.â
His eyes softened, his rough fingers still absentmindedly stroking your cheeks. âPlease,â he said again. âIâm so sorry.â
âItâs not enough,â you whispered, your heart breaking all over again as you looked up at him, at the pain in his eyes.
âHow do I fix it?â He whispered back, tears sliding freely down his cheeks now.
âI donât know,â you said, stepping back out of his grasp. âPlease, Az. I just -- I need to be alone right now.â
He nodded, drawing his arm across his face to wipe the tears away. âOkay. Okay, Iâll umm -- Iâll see you later?â
You didnât know how to answer that, didnât know if you would see him again at all. He took a step back, into the hallway.Â
Without another word, you shut the door.
Especially knowing where that awful bet had originated, you refused to let Azriel and Claire get in your head for finals. You buckled down, spending entire days at the library studying, writing papers, finishing projects.Â
It was helpful, actually. You didnât allow yourself to think about him, about all the memories you had that had become so tainted and confusing.Â
By the end of the semester, you had maintained all your Aâs, passing every final with flying colors. And thus, secured the very top spot of the Deanâs list.
Azriel had been texting and calling every day. You left them all unanswered.Â
You hadnât yet had time to think, to process through the hurt.Â
A new text chimed as you were packing up your car to head home for the summer.Â
Saw the list. Nicely done, bookworm. I know it doesnât matter, but I really am proud of you. Looks like all that hard work paid off â€ïž
Despite everything, there was a swell of emotion in your chest at his words. God, why did everything have to be so awful?
Later, you were hefting your last box into your trunk when you heard the distinct sound of a motorcycle slowing down behind you. Your heart raced. You couldnât tell if you wanted to see him again or not.
Slowly, you turned around to see Azriel sliding off the bike, his helmet tucked under his arm. âHey, beautiful,â he said, somewhat tentatively.
âHi,â you said softly.Â
He nodded to your car, his expression grave. âYouâre leaving?â
âBack home for the summer,â you said, unable to take your eyes off him. He looked tired. And sad.Â
A moment passed silently, the two of you just looking at each other, pain hanging in the air between you.
âI miss you,â he said quietly.Â
You sighed. Willed yourself to be brave. âI miss you, too,â you admitted.Â
Something like hope gleamed in his eyes. âI love you,â he murmured.Â
âI --â you started, and couldnât bear it. âI need time.â
He looked crestfallen, like you had just punched him in the gut, but he nodded. âThe summer?â
You swallowed. âOkay,â you said. âOkay. I get the summer, and Iâll find you in the fall. Weâll talk then.â
âThank you,â he said, quietly. âThank you for⊠for that. For talking to me now,â he winced. âI know I donât deserve it.â
âNo, you donât,â you said, but there was no malice in it. You were too tired. âI get the summer, Az. Donât contact me until school starts.â
He looked like he wanted to argue, but agreed. âOkay. Iâll see you in September,â he said, backing up towards his bike. âHave a good summer, bookworm,â he added with the slightest of smiles, before he slid on his helmet and drove away.
---
You spent most of the summer moping around, reading books, and trying to sort through everything that happened, all the feelings you had.Â
For three months, you sifted through every moment that Azriel and you had shared together, picking them apart, deciphering every movement.Â
It may have been slightly unhealthy.
You believed that what you and Azriel had was real. You believed that he did love you. And you couldnât deny that you loved him. That maybe you always would.Â
Was it worth it to deny yourself the person who had made you so happy? Who had taught you new things, who had helped you out of your comfort zone?
As September grew closer, you still werenât sure.Â
 ---
Azriel got more and more anxious as the summer came to a close. It had been torture to not contact you at all, but he knew he was in no position to be asking you for anything, so he did as you asked.Â
The hurt on your face those months ago was still a clear image in his mind that haunted his nightmares. He would never forgive himself for hurting you.Â
Yet, he couldnât stop imagining what would happen when he saw you again. Would you give him another chance? You would have to be a saint to even contemplate that. But then again, you were the best person he had ever known. If anyone would be able to forgive, it would be you.
Scowling, he stomped that shred of hope down. He couldnât go into this having any expectations.Â
Soon, he would know.
---
It was bittersweet coming back to school. Academia was where you thrived. You felt right at home in the library, stacks of papers all around you.Â
And you used to feel at home with Azriel.Â
You sighed at the thought. The first day of classes was tomorrow. You had told Azriel not to contact you until school started back up again, and knowing him, he would take that seriously.Â
Deep down, you knew what you wanted to do. It terrified you, though.Â
Sure enough, the next morning, you had a text from him:
Hey, bookworm. Hope your first day of classes goes well.Â
The slightest smile spread across your lips. You knew he was probably dying to ask when he could see you, but was trying to keep it light. Leave the ball in your court.
For the first time since everything, you texted him back.
Thanks, Az. Yours, too.Â
He opened it immediately. After a moment, you willed yourself to send another:
Wanna meet up at the tennis courts tonight?Â
His reply came at lightning speed:
7?
Reigning in your smile, you replied:
7.
You couldnât remember ever being this nervous as you walked to the tennis courts. There were a few people playing, so you sat underneath a tree nearby, willing your legs to stop shaking.Â
Right on time, a familiar motorcycle turned into the parking lot. He spotted you immediately, striding over to you with unsure steps.Â
âHey, beautiful,â he said quietly.Â
You looked up at him, your heart racing at the familiarity you felt. âHi,â you said, and after the briefest hesitation, you patted the grass next to you. You werenât sure you would be able to stand.Â
Immediately, he plopped down across from you, his knees only inches from yours as he faced you.Â
His eyes were locked on yours. âHow was your summer?â he said, his voice cracking slightly.Â
âOkay,â you said. âHow was yours?â
âOkay,â he said quietly.Â
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. âOkay, hereâs the thing. I did a lot of thinking. A lot of thinking. And I do love you, Az.â
You paused, not sure how to word what you were feeling.Â
âBut?â Azriel said, his voice dripping with trepidation, his eyes guarded.
âBut itâs going to take some time before I can trust you again.â
Azriel swallowed, his eyes never wavering from yours.Â
He seemed like he was waiting for you to continue before he said anything, so you added, quietly, âI am willing to try, though. To give us another chance.â
The tautness in his body released, relief flooding his features. âReally?â he croaked, tears swimming in his eyes.Â
You could only nod before he launched towards you, knocking you on your back, before he threaded his fingers through your hair, kissing you deeply.Â
You laughed, as his other hand came up to cup your face. âIâm sorry. Iâm so sorry, I swear I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you,â he said against your lips.
Wrapping your arms around him, you sighed into his kiss. âI know, Az. I know.â
âI love you,â he murmured, moving to kiss down your neck.
âI love you, too.â
âI missed you so much,â he groaned before kissing your lips again.
You giggled. âI missed you, too.â
He finally stopped kissing you, settling his elbows on either side of your head, leaning his forehead against yours. âThank you. For giving me another chance.â
Smiling, you kissed him swiftly on the lips. âDonât mess it up.â
âI wonât. I swear I wonât.â
The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon in each otherâs arms, going over your respective summers.Â
Eventually, Azriel propped himself on an elbow, gazing at you with all the love in the world.
âWhat?â you asked.Â
He grinned. âYou wanna go mini golfing, bookworm?â
You couldnât help but return his smile. âOnly if I can help you again.â
Azriel leaned down to gently kiss your forehead. âItâs a deal.â
A/N: wanna see more of these two?? Check out part 2!
@thalia-as-blog @saltedcoffeescotch
#acotar fic#acotar one shot#azriel x reader#acotar x reader#azriel one shot#acotar#azriel acotar#azriel fluff#azriel x you#azriel#azriel angst#acotar azriel#azriel fanfic#azriel fic#azriel fanfiction#acotar fanfiction#acotar fanfic#acotar angst
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Iâve been binge reading your emt polymarauders. And I gotta tell you ! Itâs like sipping a nice lemonade on a summer day. Oh myâŠ
Iâm a medical student so I loooooove this prompt so much. I couldnât sleep tonight because biochemistry has been rotting my brain. Ugh
Anyways,
I had an idea, could you maybe make a reader whoâs in her first year of med school and sheâs so stressed. The boys try to ease her a little but she doesnât listen and itch closer to burnout. Until she starts to feel unwell and comes out of her study to drink water. But before she can react she passes out and the boys rush to help.
(Totally not happened to me once in front of almost 30 3rd years. Nooooo.)
Hope you like the idea â€ïž
Thanks babe, I'm glad you enjoy them! And thank you for requesting <3
cw: academic stress, fainting
emt!marauders x fem!reader ⥠1.1k words
âWhat nerve supplies the posterior arm and forearm?â Remus asks you.Â
The words are beginning to sound like gibberish. âThe, umâŠthe radial nerve.âÂ
âWell done.â Remus sets your flash card atop a stack. There are three of them, ones you know well, ones youâre still shaky on, and ones youâve not got a clue about. This card goes in the first stack. Itâs small enough that every addition feels like a victory.Â
Your boyfriends have been kind enough to bring you lunch at the library. It was quickly revealed as a plot to try and coax you into taking a break, but when that clearly wasnât working they decided to stay awhile and keep you company. You have a reading room all to yourself today, so James has made himself comfortable on the couch and Sirius has laid his head down in his lap, content to have his hair played with while James watches you and Remus study.
âAnd which carpals communicate with the radius?â Remus asks.Â
âUmâŠâ
âThink carefully,â Sirius says in his TV host voice. âThis oneâs for full points.âÂ
You blink. You feel suddenly odd. Off-kilter. âThereâs two,â you say slowly. âLunate andâŠumâŠâÂ
âCan we do hints?â James asks.Â
Youâd rather not, but you feel like you need it. âSure.âÂ
âAlright.â Remus glances down at your card. âIt starts with an s.âÂ
âI know it.â You squeeze your eyes shut. âI had this one yesterday. Itâs like scaâŠsca something. Sorry, I feel like I canât concentrate.âÂ
âDo you want me to tell you?â Remus asks gently.Â
You sigh. âYeah, okay.âÂ
âItâs lunate and scaphoid.âÂ
You groan, pushing your fingers into your forehead. âI knew that.âÂ
âItâs alright.â Remus sets the card in the middle stack. Heâs watching you carefully. âDo you think itâs time for a break?âÂ
âYeah.â You take a deep breath. âI feel weird, I thinkâŠâ You pick up your water bottle, but itâs light, empty. âIâm going to go get some water.âÂ
Remusâ eyes are sympathetic. âGood idea, dove.âÂ
The feeling worsens when you stand, like the change in altitude is making you light-headed. You take two steps. The first wobbles, the second sinks.Â
You donât remember passing out. Thereâs no darkening of your vision or panicky realization, just one second your knee is bending unbidden and the next the trampled fibers of the library carpet are smushed against your face.Â
âFuck, sweetheart.â It takes you a second to recognize the feel of hands under your head and ribcage, but thatâs Jamesâ voice. The knees of Remusâ trousers are in front of your face. âWhatâd you do that for?âÂ
âI didnât mean to,â you mumble.Â
âLetâs get you on your back,â says Remus.Â
He and James work together to rotate you gently, and then you have a better view of the room. Remus and James kneeling above you, Sirius standing behind them with a look of wide-eyed horror. It appears each of your boyfriends has jumped up in a fright.Â
âDo you feel warm?â Remus brushes some hair away from your face while James picks up your wrist to get your pulse and Sirius launches into action, kneeling by your feet.Â
âNot reallyâŠâ You startle as your legs pick up off the floor. âSirius, my skirt!â
âItâs just us here, doll,â Sirius reminds you. âI promise to protect your modesty if anyone comes in, whatever the cost.âÂ
You frown at what he could mean by that, but Remus thumbs over your cheek placatingly. âIs there anywhere around here that might have sports drinks?âÂ
âUm, thereâs a vending machine downstairs.âÂ
âPerfect. Iâll be back shortly.â He gives your cheek a quick hold before leaving.Â
James kisses your palm once heâs done with your pulse, and then his fingers find the collar of your shirt, popping open the first two buttons with practiced ease.Â
Your hand flies up to prevent him going further. âWhy does everyone keep trying to undress me?âÂ
James laughs, and Sirius replies smoothly, âWhy, is this not a good time for you?âÂ
âTake it easy, lovie.â James takes your hand, holding it in his own. âWeâre just making sure all the blood that wants to go to your brain can get there.âÂ
âOh.â You knew that. Or you shouldâve, if your brain was working properly.
âIf itâs somewhat risque in practice, I certainly donât mind as much with you as I do with the old blokes we sometimes get.â Sirius winks at you.Â
You offer up a weak smile in return, and he pouts.Â
âHowâre you feeling, sweetness?âÂ
âIâm alright.â You take a breath. âCan I sit up now?â
âLetâs give it a bit.â James rubs your shoulder. âHow do you really feel?âÂ
âJustâŠweird. Shaky. But not too bad.âÂ
âThatâs good,â he says, though he looks like he doesnât quite believe you.Â
âI think Iâll be fine once I get something to drink.âÂ
âMm, I think thereâs probably a bit more to it than that,â Remus says as he comes back in. He crouches beside you, twisting the top off a bottle of orange juice. âThat is a very well-stocked vending machine. Do you feel ready to sit up, dove?âÂ
âI have been,â you say. âThey wonât let me.âÂ
âSuch ingratitude,â Sirius teases as he sets your feet back down. âWe were only waiting for your juice.âÂ
James helps you up with a hand on your back, and it takes a second of wordless wrestling with Remus to get him to let you bring the bottle to your own lips.Â
âYou could be dehydrated,â he says as you drink, âor you could just be exhausted, or both. And you can faint from too much stress too, you know.âÂ
âI know,â you grumble, wiping your mouth.Â
Remus takes your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him. You find your indignance shrinking under his steady gaze. âYou hurt yourself when you push yourself this hard, sweet girl.âÂ
âI know,â you say, softer now. âI thought I could handle it.âÂ
âYou need to take more breaks.âÂ
You nod slightly.Â
âAnd work on putting less pressure on yourself.âÂ
âAlright, Rem, lay off her.â Sirius rubs your knee. It breaks you from Remusâ trance, and your dark-haired boyfriend flashes you a smile when you look his way. âSheâs got enough going through her head without having to remember all you want her to do. Letâs go home, yeah?âÂ
James insists on supporting you while you walk out of the library. Sirius and Remus debate what film you should put on once you get back to your flat.Â
âShouldnât I get to choose?â you ask.Â
âWell, look whoâs feeling up to asking questions.â Sirius gives your cheek a condescending little pat. âUnfortunately, I donât think youâre really ready to be picking out films, my love. Your decision making is probably still impacted from that fainting spell.âÂ
âReally.â You narrow your eyes at him. âIâve never heard of that side effect.âÂ
âWell, youâre only a first year, doll. Thereâs lots you donât know.â
#emt!marauders#emt!marauders x reader#poly!marauders#marauders au#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x fem!reader#poly!marauders x you#poly!marauders x y/n#poly!marauders x self insert#poly!marauders fanfiction#poly!marauders fanfic#poly!marauders fic#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders hurt/comfort#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders scenario#poly!marauders drabble#poly!marauders blurb#poly!marauders oneshot#poly!marauders one shot#james potter x reader#james potter#sirius black#sirius black x reader#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders
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Quid Pro Quo | Michael Gavey x fem!reader
Summary: After being ditched by her friend at the Trinity College Christmas Party, she finds herself enthralled with learning the language of Michael Gavey | Word Count: 3.8k~ | Warnings below the cut!
Part Two: Carpe Diem Part Three: Veni, Vidi, Vici
warnings: virgin michael, semi-public sexual conduct, oral sex (m receiving), heavy petting
If she has to listen to Professor Wardon swoon over Ancient Greek and how it âdrove him to pursue his dreams in extending his passion to other studentsâ, she thinks she might actually fall asleep.
She's in a good spot to do so, nestled between two other students, the one on her right seemingly just as bored as her, and conveniently hidden behind a tall, lanky first year, who sits straight, with his head perfectly obscuring hers as he fixes his posture regularly.
Several times throughout, she's checked her watch, and yet the second hand never seems to move an inch.
Professor Wardon is just about to go on a lovesick spiel about Homeric Greek when the lecture concludes with a heaved sigh from every student as they sling their hefty bags over their shoulders.
âRemember I want 2,500 words on Les Liaisons dangereuses in my pigeon hole by next Thursday, before your Christmas parties!âÂ
âOh joy,â she sighs with a grin to the girl walking shoulder to shoulder beside her as they leave, feeling noticeably lighter knowing that that's their last lecture before Christmas break.
âChrist, you're telling me. I can't be arsed to even right my own name at the moment, nevermind read 18th century fucking French.â
She gives a snort in reply, âMerry Christmas to us, eh? Should do what the French do and have a revolution or something.â
âYeah, eat our lecturers or something.â
âAlright, I wouldn't go that far.â
âAnyway, I'm off to T Library, see ya, have a good Christmas and don't do anything I wouldn't!â
She waves her off as her friend disappears, the cold air of the outside nipping at her skin that manages to sneak beneath her coat.
Oxford University is not what she imagined at all. She came here very much feeling like an outsider, like there'd been some sort of paperwork mistake and it was supposed to be someone else in her place.Â
The imposter syndrome seemed difficult to shift, but she'd at least managed to make a couple of friends since starting in September.
Languages had always found her well, and seemingly the only thing she managed to actually understand. People were inconsistent, cruel and fickle. Languages, though they shifted and changed, were firmly rooted in reason and understanding.Â
As sad as it sounded, conjugating verbs, vowel shifts and rare dialects were the one thing she found herself itching to discover more about. The idea that there was more to uncover seemed exciting and scary at the same time.
And Oxford University was the best place she could be to do that.
All that said, her eagerness to get involved with her studies had left her social life with much to be desired.
In the first two weeks of university alone, she'd gained one friend and lost a boyfriend. And while they were drifting apart anyway, it was still a relatively large blow to her self-esteem and her confidence to actually get out there, socialise and make the most of her first year of freedom.
The only friends she'd made were those on her course. Priya, who'd just abandoned her to stick her nose in books about the Great Vowel Shift, and Anya, whoâŠto be honest, rarely left her room. Seeming more like a ghost than anything else.
It was a wonder she was still a student, with how often she missed classes.
What Anya does do best, is manage to somehow rise out of her pit to drag her to Christmas parties that aren't even run by their college.
Which is why she finds herself somehow at Trinity College campus, where she eyes several scantily clad women wearing revealing Santa costumes adorned with itchy tinsel.
Anya is the sort of girl who, well, every girl kind of wants to be. So much so she sort of wonders why she hangs around with her. She's pretty, fit and fucking clever. Her only downfall is her taste in men, so often being Oxford pretty boys.
So it is absolutely no surprise at all, when two jÀgerbombs in, Anya has somehow slipped into the arms of one aforementioned Oxford pretty boy, seeming in every way a clone of the previous, with the exception of the way he pairs his Ayia Nappa top with his low rise jeans and the only effort to conform to theme, is a pair of plastic reindeer antlers on his head bobbling side to side.
She grimaces as she watches them suck each other's faces off in a dark corner of the room, âStay Another Dayâ by East 17 blaring with a cheap crackle through the speakers as she makes her way through the bodies to somewhere quiet.
She sighs, nursing the rum and coke Anya had sloppily poured her in one hand as she closes the door behind her, shutting out the drunken squeals and cheers for the peace of a quiet common room.
It's still decorated, she notes, but empty. Maybe she could lurk here until Anya is done, if she ever will be.
The deep clack of a pool ball being sucked into a socket makes her jump, realising perhaps that she was not actually alone, as she'd previously thought.
The cool light hung above the battered pool table illuminates his deep red jumper, and the first thing she sees is the way he leans on one leg, standing straight as if he was imitating the rigid pool cue leant before him. The yellow lined detailing around the cuffs highlights his small wrists and big hands that stretch from it as he rubs blue chalk onto the tip.
Her eyes trail up the back of his neck, past the lazy waves of dark blonde hair, clearly due a trim at some point, and to his face, even from this angle able to see how his features sit. With a sharp nose and jawline, and black skinny glasses perched above his cheekbones.
She almost laughs at the way he's almost as tall as the light that illuminates the table, half-thinking that she might never have seen such a strange and yet interesting looking guy.
âDidn't fancy the party?â she finally says, alerting him to her presence.
She doesn't quite expect the way the light bounces off his sharp features, sinking his blue eyes in shadow as his head turns to her with an expression of boredom.
âNot particularly, no.âÂ
His voice is lighter than she thought it would be and part of her wonders if he's putting it on. He presses his glasses further up his nose before assessing his next shot, stalking around the table.
âWhy's that?â
This time, when he answers, he doesn't look at her. He simply leans down, and aims.
âNot. Fucking. Invited,â he replies bitterly, missing a yellow, âthat's why.â
Her fingertips moisten against the glass as the ice begins to melt, but she pays it no mind.
âSo you're lurking about in here instead.â
He plays with the cue in one hand, barely sparing a second glance, a bitter, quiet laugh escaping him.
He misses another red before he heaves a sigh, straightening to look at her again.
âYou here alone as well?â he asks dispassionately.
She smiles lazily and shrugs.
âMy mate isâŠa bit preoccupied, if you know what I mean,â she replies, taking an awkward sip of the now watered down drink, âlike you, I don't really think these are my thing either.â
He seems to consider her statement for a moment.
âWhy come then?â
She shrugs again, âtrying to be sociable.â
âWith those vapid cunts? Good luck getting any intelligent conversation out of them.â
She watches as he picks up the blue chalk again, applying more when he doesn't even need it in sort of a nervous gesture, his blue eyes averted and pretending to assess his next move.
There's something about him. How judgemental he is and how he forms his words. Perhaps she hadn't expected this sort of guy to be so outwardly honest with his opinions, and for the most part, she can't say she disagrees with the message, just the way in which he said it.
âCan I play?â She asks, leaning over to put her drink down.
âWhat are you reading?â He asks so suddenly, and out of context, that she does a double take.
She raises her eyebrows, smiling, âDoes my answer depend on if I get to play or not?â
There's no answer from him. Shocker of the century.
âModern Languages.â
âFucking hell,â he groans.
She's a bit too happy and dizzy on rum to get defensive.
âIs that one of those subjects that sounds way less interesting than it actually ends up being?â
She gives a breathy laugh, âjust like languages.â
He hums, as if the answer didn't impress him, âmore of a science and numbers man myself, obviously.â
For a moment, it's lost on her why it's obvious.
He takes a sip of his, no doubt, stale beer, wetting his lips after, âYour name is?â
She narrows her eyes teasingly, smiling as she leans against the table, âquid pro quo.â
She enjoys the brief confusion on his face, before he realises what she's said.
âOkay, okay, Michael.â
She smiles, âSee? You know what that meant. Who says you're not a languages man?â
It's the first time he seems to duck his head, hiding a blush she's barely able to see.
âI donât think the Ancient Roman idea of fair exchange warrants the title of âlanguages manâ.âÂ
The blue chalk comes off on his hands as he fiddles nervously with it.
âSo, am I bestowed the privilege of playing?â
He raises his head, and she can tell he's trying his damndest to not let a little beer-induced smile pass his lips.
âI suppose I could allow you to embarrass yourself in front of me for a bit, if you insist. We'll have to share a cue though.â
She doesn't have the heart to tell him her uncle was a pool player, and so by extension, has played pool for most of her upbringing. Rather, he finds out himself when she pots three yellows in a row.
It's either the alcohol or pity that kicks in when she misses the fourth, holding the cue for him to take.
âYou being good at pool wasn't on my bingo card,â he mutters with some nervous teasing in his voice.
They go back and forth for a bit, missing some, potting some, with interspersed conversation between.Â
âThought you might have been a Norman-no -mates, like me,â he says quietly as he watches her assess her next shot. Bending to aim.
âYou're not far off,â she replies, âfirst fortnight I was down a boyfriend. Since then, I've only been up two friends and one of them is in the other room having ditched me for the shag of a lifetime.â
She doesn't see it until after she takes the shot, the way his eyes flit back to hers quickly as she rights herself to stand.
Was he checking me out?
As if he was lagging, he only laughs now at what she's said.
âWhat about you?â She asks, âno girls, or boys, on the scene?â
He blushes a lot when she asks that. And she can't help the fluttering in her chest she feels that someone might find her attractive.
âCanât say there is.â
She stands close, passing the cue to him, electricity warming her fingertips as she grazes his.
âAnd why not?â
He scoffs bitterly, âhave you seen me?â he mutters, wandering around the table, suddenly unable to shake the feeling of her gaze, âNot too many girls out there looking for the stereotypical nerdy math boy, really.â
âHm,â she hums, âhow unfortunate for them.â
He sinks a red, picking at his red jumper.
âYeah, they're clearly missing out, huh?â
The bitter and self-deprecating tone of his voice makes her heart sink a bit. He's not a bad looking guy, she thinks. His style, glasses, hair, she would almost say look actually quite cute.
Maybe that's the thing he doesn't like.
âNo interest? Or is maths the only one for you?â
He misses the next shot and sighs, holding the cue for her to take, âclearly, the only one I need.â
She steps close to retrieve, taking her time, looking up at him as she does. At this proximity, Michael sucks in a breath quietly, his lips, which she can't say she'd noticed until right this moment, parting and his Adam's apple bobbing as his eyes flit rapidly down her.
A warmth swirls in her gut at that.
She circles the table, âwhat about in the past?âÂ
He leans against the other side, his hand on the cushion, long fingers splayed on the green fabric. She has to shake her head to break her own trance.
âCanât say my love life has exactly been a roaring success, honestly.â
The way he says it.
She wouldn't be surprised if he wasâŠ
Oh.
âSo what? You're focussed on your studies?â
She misses. Too set on the conversation rather than the game.
He gives a mirthless laugh, âSure.â
She rounds the table, holding the cue for him to take, but when he reaches for it, she pulls back with a smirk.
âSo we've established you're not one for languages,â she starts, and Michael furrows his brows in confusion, âhave you ever really asked for what you want? Ever?â
He seems to miss what she's trying to say.
âHave you been with a girl?â
At that, his eyes widen slightly, a blush crawling up his neck to the tips of his ears, cheeks near matching his shirt.
She knows she has her answer.
âWellâŠIâŠno, I haven'tâŠâ
At chest height, she can see the way his breathing elevates.
âAnd, hypothetically, if a girl expressed interest. What would you say?â
His lips part for a good few seconds before he gives a reply, âIâdâŠI umâŠI guess it depends whoâŠâ
It's like he's afraid she'll make fun of him for it.Â
âWhat about, if it was me?â She asks, her voice lowering as she reaches out to pick some lint off his jumper, like it's the most normal thing in the world. His body goes all rigid as she does.
This isn't normal in his world.
Michael swallows thickly, âyou're not taking the Mick out of me, are you?â
She shakes her head, âI just want you to feel comfortable asking for what you want.â
For someone who had so often thought about it, now when faced with the situation, he feels as if he doesn't know what to do or say.
She's still stood with the cue in one hand, close enough so that when she shifts her weight from foot to foot, her knee grazes his leg. It's interesting to watch him think so deeply about it. Convinced he's probably never thought of anything so much in his life.
âWhat if what I want isâŠyou?â
The tension deepens like the tone and volume of his voice. And without effort, a smile finds its way to her face when she looks at his expression. He's frozen stiff, for once, not knowing what to say.
So nothing shocks her more when he grabs the pool cue as a means of pulling her to him, and he has to duck considerably to press his lips clumsily to hers. He's eager, that much is true, but it's clear he's inexperienced. But instead of causing discomfort, she thinks it's quite endearing.
The pool cue clangs to the floor as she braces her hands on his shoulders and chest, guiding his lips with her own in a slower, more careful movement. She feels the edge of the pool table bite into her lower back when he presses her against it, clearly excited, if the hardness that's flush to her stomach is anything to go by.
The hands she had been staring at not half an hour ago are bruising as they trace her waist and hips, with a grip tight enough to tell her exactly how much he's enjoying the experience.
For a moment, they're not in a common room alone, against a pool table, with âCheetah-licious Christmasâ playing in the room over, the bass of which rumbles through the floor and into their chests.
The kiss lasts a long while, and she has a feeling he wants to savour it as if it's the last time he will ever be able to do it.Â
One of her hands snakes its way to the back of his head, fingers gripping at his hair to pull him closer as either of them tilt to aid more contact between them. And at the little amount of tugging, Michael whines into her mouth, prompting him to pull away.
He looks halfway between mortified and pleased, his glasses having skewed to one side with the eagerness of what they'd done. And she laughs a bit, reaching up to fix them, which seems to make the mortification fade somewhat from his face.
Michael looks down between them, where his obvious erection is pressed to her, and pulls away slightly with a scarlet blush.
âShit - sorry-â
âIt's fine,â she reassures, âno need to be embarrassed.â
The words alone would be enough, if her hand hadn't snaked between their bodies to brush her palm over him. And if it were possible, his flush spreads to his neck, words failing him once more.
Her eyes flicker up to his, their lips all kiss-bruised and swollen.
âIf you don't want to-â
âNo, no, I want toâŠâ he says, immediately embarrassed about how quick it was.
She smiles, one hand palming him through his jeans and the other trailing up his chest, âSit down.â
He backs up to sit on a nearby sofa, watching with a kind of adoration as she makes space between his legs, her eyes glimmering at him as she slowly undoes his belt.
âIf at any time, you need to stop, tell me.â
He gives a nervous laugh, his stomach muscles tightening, wondering probably if this is really happening to him, âNot sure I will want toâŠâ
She smiles reassuringly, watching as his lips part as she palms him through his boxers, trying to suppress how impressed she is with his size.
It's always the skinny white guys.
âWell, the offer's there.â She smirks, pulling him from his boxers, Michael gives a suffered breath, feeling her touch on him and also her breath so close. He almost feels dizzy. The thought of this happening in this situation, with a party going on next door, is dangerous and exciting in equal measure.
She knows he has very limited experience, so decides not to tease him too much.
Michael gasps softly as she licks at the base of him, drawing a wet line with her tongue along the vein underneath, all the way to the tip. She concentrates her efforts slightly on the sensitive spot there before closing her mouth over the head of his cock, sucking gently.
She feels the way his thighs tense, and the blue disappearing as he closes his eyes. His fists are tight beside him, knuckles white, like he doesn't know if he should touch her or not. All he knows right now is that this feeling is brand new, and the sensation is so much already.
She pulls herself from him to run her tongue over his length, one hand moving to his hand, to encourage him. His blue eyes crack open just a bit, to understand what she's trying to tell him.
And she fights the urge to smile as his longer fingers swipe across her temple into her hair, his touch tender, soft and unsure as he holds her by it.Â
Her lips wrap around him once more, pushing him further into her mouth, taking him steadily and slowly at first. Michael's hips move barely, chasing the friction that he's getting on his cock when she bobs her head on him and hollows her cheeks.
He watches with parted lips and warm cheeks, moving her hair away so he can watch himself disappear into her mouth over and over. Her hand massages the rest of him, giving him two unique sensations in one, something that earns her a deep, throaty moan.
When her eyes open to look at him, he thinks his heart stops in his chest for a split second. He closes his eyes, not able to bear the way she looks with his cock in her mouth if she looks right at him, feeling that if he did any longer he wouldn't last.
The sounds he emits don't stop there as she increases her pace on him, pressing her tongue to the underside of him and taking him deeper into her throat, humming around him at the heady scent of his skin.
It's only when she takes him as far as he will go, working hard to control her gag reflex that he gives the first genuine buck of his hips, tightening in her hair and a far-too-loud moan. If anyone in the next room were quiet and paying attention, they'd likely know exactly what was going on.
âFuck-â
It only serves to spur her on as she pulls back, moving in a more steady, quick rhythm, that she is sure Michael is loving judging by the rate of his moans and the way he chokes out his words.
His stomach clenches and unclenches, his high creeping up on him as her mouth tightens around his length.Â
âShit - you need to - I'm gonna -â he chokes, weakly tugging her hair in an effort to pull her mouth off him before he cums.
If she didn't have his cock in her mouth she'd smile.
Her hand squeezes the base of him, and Michael throws his head back slightly, a long shuddered and choked moan reverberating through his chest. She swears she feels his thighs shake as she stills, warm ropes of his cum taste musky at the back of her throat.
His loud moan is followed quickly by more softer ones as her throat contracts to swallow as much as she can, briefly increasing the tension and friction around his sensitive length.
When she pulls off him with a pleased sigh, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Michael sits up slightly, having to gather his breath.
âFucking hellâŠâ
She takes it as a compliment and rises to her feet, her hands smoothing her skirt back down.
And she squeaks in delight as Michael quickly tucks himself away, barely doing up his jeans buttons before backing her up to the pool table again, kissing her fervently.
âWhat about youâŠdo IâŠâ he starts when he breaks away, panting softly. She smiles at the notion but shakes her head. This experience was for him alone.
âNot right now, don't feel inclined to,â she reassured, her hands on his chest, feeling the way his heart is beating rapidly beneath it.
âRight now?â he asks with a quiet, unsure tone, âdoes that meanâŠthere's gonna be a next time?â
His tone is careful, and yet, she is able to detect something like desire there. An excitement for more, without seeming too eager so that he's not let down if she says no. Something that makes it clear he is 100% on board.
She bites back a grin.
âQuid Pro Quo, Michael.â
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#michael gavey#michael gavey x reader#michael gavey x you#michael gavey x y/n#michael gavey x oc#michael gavey fanfic#michael gabey fanfiction#michael gavey fic#michael gavey smut#michael gavey x female reader#michael gabey x fem!reader#saltburn fanfiction#ewan mitchell#ewan mitchell characters#saltburn fic#michael gavey saltburn
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i feel like bitchy reader is definitely bossy and demanding and a total princess but in private sheâs sweet (still has that bad princess attitudeđ) with rafe. like he gets her to a level where she softens.
omg! you get them! âĄ
sprawled on rafe's bed with your open magazines and a bottle of pink nail polishâdespite how many times rafe had told you to not bring that shit onto his bedâyou've made yourself comfortable.
balancing your phone to your ear, you fan your nails with your other hand. one of your friends is on the other line, he can tell you're fed up with whoever it is, even more than usual, by the way you talk to her.
rafe walks in and watches the scene in front of him while you observe your nails and flip another page, dog-earing something that's caught your eye, something he's gonna be buying you soon if you don't buy it yourself first.
"who is it?" he mouthes when you finally look up.
"your stupid sister," you say back at a normal volume, not even blocking the speaker or muting yourself.
"hey! i heard that-" his sister's voice comes through the speaker.
"yeah, i meant you to," you reply, blowing on your nails.
"y'know she's downstairs, right?" rafe asks, though you don't answer, just roll your eyes while you ignore him and continue your conversation.
"anyways, stop chasing people. especially people lower than you. it's embarrassing, sarah."
"stop calling john b 'lower people'!"
"tell him to stop behaving like lower people then. it's not that hard. or maybe you should up your standards."
though he's a little confused by what you're saying, rafe goes back to focusing on the reason he came in here, opening up his laptop. you and sarah keep yapping back and forth, until you finally hang up.
you look up at rafe expectantly the second you hang up the call, but he's too focused on the screen to see you. you set aside the magazines, tightening up the nail polish bottle and setting it on rafe's nightstand carefullyâyou didn't need another fiasco like the time you spilled it everywhere.
but just like your boyfriend, you were too stubborn to listen to anyone but yourself.
"okay! i'm ready now," you say, sitting up against his headboard.
"ready for what?" rafe asks, still not looking up. you want to chuck the nail polish at him to get his attention, but you foresee it ending badly, settling on tossing one of the magazines instead. it lands with a thud by rafe's feet. "huh?" just confused, not angry, he picks it up and sets it down on his desk before looking at you.
"i'm ready to hang out now." for all your stubbornness, even the irritating way you fight with him and somehow always have a better comeback ready than he does, when he looks at you, it's hard to hold back a smile.
"what about twenty minutes ago when i was ready to hang out, huh?" you roll your eyes.
"oh, shut up, liar. you came to get your laptop."
"you don't know that."
"if you came to hang out, you would have come here and hung up the call." you say it matter-of-factly, looking up at him with an irritatingly pretty smile, the one reserved for when you're reading him for filth.
"shut up." he closes the laptop and makes his way to you anyways, but when you curl into his chest and get quiet for a moment, he has a hard time remembering what the two of you were even talking about to begin with.
and though you would never admit it, you don't either.
#silly sorry its all that came to mind but#<333#you get them#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#bitchy reader
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I REALLY wanna see Johnny get mad! Like white hot angry at reader. Donât know what/how it happened but Johnnyâs gonna make all of readerâs poor holes sufferđ„ș
Maybe Simon gets surprised and turned on by his pupâs newfound aggressiveness
3.6k pwp soap drabble 4 u (cw for referenced burning building, angry sex, some light mutual degradation/objectification, and voyeurism since ghost watches)
You fume silently, face hot with rage while you and Soap walk side by side behind Ghost down the base hallways. There's a tension at the base of your neck that you just know is going to become a migraine if you don't get some medicine soon, and your bones ache from going too long without sleep.
Soap's somehow even stiffer beside you, the distance between you two small but intentional. Usually he's impossible to pry off of you, always brushing against you and looking for more physical contact, but since you landed he's kept at least half a foot between you two at all times.
Fine by you. You don't want him touching you right now anyway.
The silence is thick as Ghost leads you two to his room, his shoulders loose and relaxed.
He's got no reason to be tense, you suppose. He's not the one who had a massive disagreement on the field, who had to drag his squadmate back from a blazing fire and deal with his bitching instead of his thanks.
Just the memory of it makes you scowl.
Ghost leads the two of you into his room in rare silence, though it's only rare because usually you and Johnny would already be teasing or flirting at this point. But you don't bother now, not with your anger so fresh in your mind.
Ghost is the only one to get settled once Johnny closes the door behind you. You two stand on opposite sides of the doorframe, both too tense to do much but stew in your own righteous anger, and Ghost starts to get dressed down into something more comfortable.
He lets the two of you stay quiet until he's fully changed into a tank top and sweats, no boxers then sits on the bed with an overly loud sigh.
"You two even gonna look at each other?"
Your lip curls as you glance at Johnny from the corner of your eyes. "I have nothing to say to him."
"'S not what I asked."
Your cheek twitches and you bite your tongue, rolling a sharp canine over it. "Honestly, Simon, I don't even want to see him right now."
Johnny scoffs, loud in the otherwise quiet room, and nearly stomps to your side, leaning in front of you to try and force eye contact. "Oh, really? Ye can't even look at me, huh? Had no problem lookin' earlier, when you were draggin' me away from my goddamn mission."
You want to growl, you want to rake your nails down his face and scream about what a fool he is, what a jackass, and you want to make him remember.
Some of your ire must shine through in your expression, and Johnny mirrors it, eyes sparking as he straightens and stands diagonally from you, chest nearly brushing your shoulder.
"Dragging you away from your death, more like," you sneer.
"Wasn't your place," he bites back, moving forward enough that you can feel the heat of him even through all your layers. "You aren't my fuckin' CO and I'm not yours - wasn't any of your business how I chose to execute my orders."
"It is when you chose to do it in the most lethal way possible! Fuck, MacTavish, had you taken half a second and listened to me-"
"Oh, that's all it woulda taken? Just had to shut my pretty lips and listen to you, jump before you even say how high? Newsflash, lass, you don't get to make those decisions."
"And you do?"
"In this case? Yeah, you're fuckin' right I do. Price said drag the man out, alive, and that's what I was doing."
"You ran into a burning building!"
"Under orders from our CO!"
"You know damn well that's not what he meant, Sergeant, cut the shit. The orders were to bring him back alive, not kill yourself in the process!"
"That's the job, Sergeant. You do whatever it takes to fulfill your orders."
You're both panting as he snarls the words, nose to nose and eye to eye, teeth bared in rage that feels almost primal. His close brush with death, the way you'd had to tackle him to keep him from running after the damn target, leaves you raw and unsteady. Had you been any weaker, any less filled by adrenaline and panic and something deeply possessive, you know Soap would've thrown you off and gotten himself killed. You were hardly able to hold him down until the screaming stopped as it was.
You take as deep a breath as you can with your heart racing, and reach up to wrap the collar of Johnny's shirt tight in your fist, dragging him so close that your noses brush, hot breaths shared.
"You don't get to fucking leave me." You shoot a glance over Johnny's shoulder, to where Ghost sits comfortably against the headboard of your shared bed. "Leave us. I won't let you."
It's the last sentence that has him bristling, that ruins your chance of a settled argument.
The only person who lets Soap do anything is Ghost. The two of you listen to your Lieutenant with no questions, no doubt, no hesitations, but the same doesn't go for your fellow Sergeant. Since the 141 had formed, you and Soap have been fighting for dominance over one another, both of you determined to establish your control of the other like Ghost has for both of you.
The insinuation that you would let Soap do anything isn't something he'll let slide.
Hours later, fucked raw and sated, you can admit to yourself that the wording was slightly intentional. But now, with the fresh wound of Soap's close call with death still stinging in your subconscious, you only mean it as a way to push his anger to the level yours has been at for hours now.
"Let me?" He rumbles, muscles relaxing as he steps forward enough to press his chest to yours, head ducked low so all you can see is Johnny. "You don't let me do shit, lass. Couldn't stop me if you tried."
You can't help the way your lips quirk up into a humorless smile, your fist tightening in the fabric of his shirt. "Had a pretty easy time of it earlier, MacTavish. Had you pinned and writhing under me, like a bitch-"
Before you can finish your taunt, you find yourself pinned to the door, a mouth covering yours.
Johnny's teeth are sharp against your lips as he nips at you, leaving behind a sting and a throb. You dig your nails into his shoulders, raking them down his arms and rumbling in dissatisfaction when his clothes keep him from feeling anything.
You bite back as you push at the hem of his shirt, desperate to get your hands on him and make him hurt. You trace your fingers over his abs as you get his bottom lip between your teeth, pulling him down to your height and smirking at his glare.
You don't kiss so much as fight with lips instead of fists, there's no affection or softness between the two of you right now. You're nothing but your anger, but your desperation, and deep down your fear. You cling to Johnny with something verging on desperation, bite and scratch to make him feel even a bit of the pain you had at such a close call with death.
He leans almost his entire weight into yours to keep you pinned against the door, but you only have to shove at his shoulders a few times for him to get the hint and move backwards.
His lips never leave yours as you walk him back to the bed, his hands coming up to grip your thighs as he falls back and keeps you on top of him. You taste the slightest tang of iron as you shift your knees up next to his hips, squeezing his sides between your thighs and his tongue between your teeth.
"You gonna ride me?" He pants when you pull away for a breath of air, your hips working over the tent in his pants. "Think you're in charge, bonnie?"
You bare your teeth at him, grinding your core against the tent in his pants. âIâm not the one on my back, MacTavish.â
His smile is all teeth as he bucks his hips into yours, knocking you off balance so youâre forced to brace your hands on either side of his head. âI donât need to be on top to keep you on a leash.â
Itâs all too easy to hook your fingers in his throat mic - his collar. His pupils blow wide when you tug harshly enough to pull his head off the mattress, his hips following as he moans and grinds you down onto him with a bruising grip on your thighs.
âDown,â you smirk, leaning your weight back and forcing his hips to the bed, grinding your hips. ââS my turn, Johnny. Gonna use you âtil youâre wrung dry.â
His tongue darts out to wet his lips, then rests on his bottom lip instead of settling behind his teeth. You canât resist the urge to lean down and lick over his lips, covering them in your own spit and groaning when he pulls you back into a proper kiss.
Despite your hand around his throat and your weight on top of his, youâre both equally in control as you strip the other. You canât be bothered to wrestle his wrists to the bed, far preferring to let him paw your shirt and pants off while you tear the seams in his indecently tight shirt.
You only have the patience to get his pants to his knees, unwilling to help him kick them off for full mobility. Instead you grind yourself against his hard length, the soaked gusset of your underwear dragging wonderfully over both his cock and your clit.
You shift your hand on his neck so your palm is resting on his Adamâs apple, giving him just enough pressure to stay flattened to the bed.
He nearly growls when you push, the head of his cock getting caught in your panties and brushing the crease of your thigh. âFuck, bonnie, get it on with.â
You blink down at him, cocking an unimpressed brow and shifting your hips so he slips between your folds, tucking your underwear to the side with your free hand. âYouâre not in charge right now, MacTavish. Iâm on top.â
âOnly cause Iâm lettinâ ya,â he pants, hips twitching as he tries to find your hole, tries to find a hole to sink into.
You lean down just far enough to bite the air in front of his nose, all feral rage and sexual frustration as you let yourself sit on his cock, holding him still beneath you. âYou donât let me do shit, I do whatever the fuck I want to. And right now, I want to ride you âtil you stop fucking talking.â
You press your lips to his before he can bite back the response you see waiting on his tongue, letting your hips move in the way that feels best for you as you lick over his teeth.
Johnnyâs always loved making out. When Ghost keeps him locked up, or heâs just not allowed to fuck you, heâll happily spend hours with your lips glued together, dry humping each other and swapping spit. You canât even count the number of times heâs come in his pants while thrusting against your hip or your side, driven over the edge by just a kiss.
You take advantage of that now, keeping one hand on his throat and the other circling the base of his throbbing cock so you can line yourself up above him. Heâs far too distracted with your lips and tongue to remember he could tug you down on him at any moment, could flip the two of you with hardly any effort at all.
Despite the complete lack of prep, your body takes Johnny easily, the familiar stretch making you moan as you sink down onto him with one smooth movement. You blink open wet eyes just in time to see Johnnyâs eyes nearly roll to the back of his head when your ass rests against him, his cock buried inside of you.
You donât let yourself rest for long, though most days you love to just feel the weight of either of your boys inside of you. But that current of anger is still pulsing beneath your skin, and all the hot, sweat slick contact between you and Johnny only makes you feel more desperate.
Your pace is merciless, for both him and yourself. Your knees and thighs scream as you slam yourself to the base of Johnnyâs cock, making sure you pull off nearly to the tip on every thrust. Without a hand around his throat, youâd have lost your balance on the first thrust.
Johnnyâs pulse thunders against your fingers, so fast and so harsh that you swear you can ever see your fingertips twitching against his throat. His breaths are quick and erratic, and you canât help but subconsciously match his breathing with your faces as close together as they are.
âSo fucking good,â you moan, rolling your hips as you lift yourself off of him, dragging the head of his cock along your walls. Your voice cracks when he bucks his hips up, and youâre relieved that heâs already too blissed out to notice, lost in the tight vice of your cunt.Â
âYeah?â Johnny pants, tongue nearly lolling out of his mouth when you pull away fully. âStuff you just right, yeah, lass?â
You bite your tongue against an agreement, some deep part of you thatâs not quite drunk on pleasure yet unwilling to give Johnny that kindness. Instead you shift your weight, so that your hand is more cupping Johnnyâs jaw and putting pressure on his head instead of his neck, letting you really push him down and get the proper leverage to fuck yourself on his cock.Â
âPerfect fucking-â you shudder against the words, moan when he rubs just over your g-spot and repeating the same motion with your hips again and again. âPerfect fucking toy, so nice to ride.â
The sound Johnny makes is purely animalistic, torn between anger and desperation, something rough and low in his throat. You can feel the rumble of it through your hand and canât help but moan in return, finally nearing your peak even as your legs continue to burn.
Neither of you speaks as you ride him, your head hanging low so youâre eye-level with his nipples and focused entirely on your own pleasure. The way your muscles scream at you only fills you with more need, more desperation, and the pain pushes you closer and closer to the edge. Your clit grinds just right over the rough patch of Soapâs pubic hair, soaking it in your juices and covering him in slick.
You reach your peak with gasping breaths, nearly going cross-eyed as you use Johnny entirely for your own pleasure, using him as nothing more than something to hold yourself up on and a toy to ride. Your muscles go completely lax as your pleasure overwhelms you, leaving you slumped against his muscular chest as you ride out the orgasm with small rolls of your hips.
Johnnyâs still rock hard inside of you as you come down, his grip on your thighs tight enough to bruise. Your hand has slipped from underneath his collar to the mattress next to his face, and you donât have the energy to push yourself up and away, to deny him like youâd intended.
Your lungs feel too small as you try to take deep gasping breaths, only managing a few before your lungs start hitching. Johnnyâs chest rises and falls quickly beneath your head, his heart pounding beneath your ear.
You donât have time to brace yourself before youâre flipped onto your stomach, face down on the mattress.
One moment youâre floating in post-orgasmic bliss, letting your body clench down on Johnny and milk him, the next moment youâre on your knees with your back forced into a deep arch, that same cock pounding into you like a machine.
Your groan is bone deep when you finally lift your head enough to breathe, eyes rolled heavenward as your body tries its best to adjust to the harsh treatment.
âShow you a fucking toy,â Johnny snarls from over your shoulder, his voice sounding distant beneath the blood rushing through your ears. âThink ye can just treat me like fucking nothing, get yerself off then take a fucking nap? Nah, yer gonna take what ye fucking deserve.â
The thickening of Johnnyâs accent has you gushing around him, your sensitive channel clenching down so hard that youâre surprised he can pull out at all.Â
Johnnyâs hand wraps in your hair when you try to let your head fall forward again, yanking you back with enough strength to leave you yowling at the strain on your neck.
âDonât fucking hide,â he hisses, landing a sharp slap on the meat of your ass. âThink ye can just shove yer head in the sand? Let me fuckinâ hear you, lass, sing fâr me.â
âFu-uck you,â you manage to groan, syllables interrupted on every thrust, your voice cracking. âYouâre not- fuck, Johnny, donât have to listen to you.â
You can practically hear the way he gnashes his teeth over your shoulder, can perfectly envision the angry snarl on his face at your lack of submission.
âYe will. Gonna teach ye a fuckinâ lesson about yer place.â
You try your best to rear up, whipping your head over your shoulder to glare as best you can despite the grip on your hair. âMy place? Who the hell do you think- oh fuck, fuck, Johnny, you canât- goddamnit-â
âCanât even get a goddamn word out.â Even from your terrible angle you can see that his smile is mean. âThink ye can be in charge when ye canât even finish a sentence? Fuckinâ fool.â
You nearly shriek when he shoves your head down to the mattress, clawing fruitlessly at anything in front of you. You only freeze when you feel flesh give way underneath your nails, the hard muscles of a thick thigh under your palm.
You can just barely angle your head enough to glance up and see Simon looking down at you, but you canât manage to see anything past his general shape with the way Soap is trying to shove you inside the mattress.
Ghostâs hand comes to rest on your head, and when you lean into him he pushes Johnnyâs fingers off.
âWatch it, pup,â he rumbles, and Johnnyâs hips stutter behind you. âYouâre already in trouble. Do you really wanna make it worse?â
Your self-righteous smirk is hidden in the sheets, but you canât fully muffle your laugh when Johnnyâs whines over your shoulder. The sound quickly morphs into a snarl, and he buries his teeth into your shoulder as his hips start to work again, the sound of his balls slapping against your soaked cunt obscene.
Johnny wraps his arms beneath your torso, hooking his hands on your shoulders so he can tug you into every thrust, moving his face up to nose at your throat. You feel covered by him, consumed by him, as he chases his own pleasure.
You donât quite manage to get off before he empties himself inside you, but thereâs a deep satisfaction in your bones that still lets you melt into him.
Johnnyâs all heat and power at your back as he goes weak against you, and a small shove to his shoulder from Ghost has both of you resting on your sides, spooning with his cock still buried inside of you.
Your breaths sync with his quickly, matching the inhales and exhales you can feel against your neck and the rise and fall of his chest against your back.
Your eyes flutter shut, relaxing into the bed and Johnnyâs arms. You know that youâll have to Talk later, about what heâd done and how youâd responded. But you know itâll be an easier conversation after Ghostâs punishment, when all of your consciousness has eased a bit.
âThere ya go,â you hear Ghost say, followed by a soft stroke over your head. âExhausted yourselves, huh? Silly pups.â
You hum and Johnny rumbles behind you, burying his face more fully in your throat. You feel Ghostâs other hand pet over his mohawk, his thumb brushing your cheekbone.
âI guess you can nap.â Ghost sighs, like heâs doing you both a great favor. âYouâll both need all your energy for your punishment, anyway. Breakinâ damn near every rule in the book just cause you got a little worked up. What am I gonna do with the two of you?â
You donât have the energy to respond, and the best Johnny manages is a small and plaintive whine. Ghost chuckles from above you, and you feel him lay in front of you, his arms wrapping around Johnnyâs back and tugging you both to him.
âYeah, yeah, I know. Just relax now, youâre alright.â
Itâs easy to drift off, even if the heat is near suffocating and the stretch of Johnnyâs cock verges on the edge of too much. Youâre loose-limbed and sated, and Johnnyâs safe beside you. Thereâs little else you could ever want, ever need, and you canât be much more than grateful as you fall asleep between your men.
#ghoap x reader#nobody saw me complaining about this last night :)#bo writes#soap mactavish x reader#< since it's mostly him#btw i off and on contemplated making this reader male so if their vibes change throughout the fic thats why lmao#2 big military men fighting for dominance over one another while a Bigger & More Muscular partner watches knowing they're under his thumb..#yeah that's the stuff
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