#foggy unmuted
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skull-earring · 6 months ago
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Megaera - Guard dog motif
Roadkill - Searows // Hades Supergiant // Hell Above - Pierce the Veil // Megaera - Hades wiki (Fandom) // @/rocco.the.dobe (Instagram) // Hades Supergiant // White Fang by Jack London // Hades Supergiant // I’m Your Man - Mitski // Hades Supergiant // @hersecondsight (Instagram) // Cop Car - Mitski // Hades Supergiant
First time doing a web weave so I have No Clue what I'm doing but I needed to make it because I go insane over this alarmingly often. Might make more
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fivechairsthing · 9 months ago
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Certain lines were crossed that should not have been crossed. There was a certain lapse in moral judgement. Feelings were definitely hurt, but the gravity was never properly felt even after the cloud affecting judgement had gone, certain fogginess still lingered. For a long while. I don't claim to have internalised any learning, for I can't know given relevant absence. Though given that after the red mattress immersion—and for a while there was some hope—I still upgraded to porn vid(from a long period of just looking at pictures), I must say it could be a long journey ahead. But I think the current situation is definitely better than that distant past. Given the unmuted heart chakra and a certain vigilance about such things. And perhaps a certain settledness that should come with TTR conclude.
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ellephlox · 2 years ago
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Concordant
This is a sequel to Discordant — you don't need to have read that oneshot to understand this one, but I'd highly recommend starting there!
In case you do decide to skip Discordant, a short summary is that Reader got in a dangerous situation trying to help out Matt, and so Matt's really angry about it. This is essentially the fallout from that argument.
Pairing: Matt x fem!reader
Summary: You and Matt are going through a rough patch. Karen and Foggy devise a plan to help out by kidnapping you and Matt to force you to speak to one another encouraging communication and quality time together.
Warnings: mention of a mass shooting, profanity, angst
A/N: I had absolutely no plans to make a part 2 but enough people asked so here we are!!
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There was a shooting in Hell's Kitchen. Four dead, eight injured. Shots were fired just after one in the morning at a bar by a white man in his fifties or sixties, according to witnesses. While it was devastating, people claimed it would have been much worse, had the Devil not shown up and knocked out the shooter within thirty seconds, who was now in police custody and awaiting his trial.
Usually, you would have heard a story like this directly from Matt. He would have told you what he'd heard, and how he went into the fight; he would have described whether or not the shooter could actually throw a punch and maybe how he almost botched the whole thing by nearly twisting his ankle on a bit of spilled mac 'n' cheese on the floor. Then he would have assured you that either way you had nothing to worry about, and that yes, of course, he was always careful.
Not this time.
This time, you heard the story on the news while you were getting dressed for work. Hearing Matt's epithet spoken so reverently by the newscaster made your spine prickle with a mixture of anger and hurt, so you muted the television in spite, only to unmute it a few seconds later from raw curiosity.
It had been a week since you'd fought with him. After you had showered and gotten the blood off of yourself, you went back to your apartment, and said not another word to Matt. Something deep inside you thought that he would reach out first, so you kept your window unlocked at night, thinking that a certain horned figure would slip inside and join you under the covers, whispering an apology and wrapping his arms tightly around you.
But no one showed up, and each night you brushed your teeth, alone; climbed under the covers, alone; read under your lamp when you couldn't sleep, alone.
Several times (more like sixteen times — but who was counting?) you picked up the phone and typed in his number, but never dialed. You had only tried to help him, and the fact that he refused to acknowledge your good intentions stung so badly that it kept you from extending an olive branch.
So when your phone rang that morning, you jumped to it; it wasn't as though you had a ton of people that were calling you on a day-to-day basis. It was Foggy, though, and you tried to hide your disappointment with a cheerful greeting.
"You're bright-eyed and bushy-tailed," he said. "You have a day off or something?"
"Ha. I wish. I'm on my way into work right now," you said as you locked your door. "What's up?"
"I wanted to talk to you about Matt, actually," Foggy said. You froze, mouth going dry, but fortunately he continued talking. "He's not here right now. Obviously. Or else I wouldn't be talking about this with you. And I just called him; he said he's just gotten out of the shower, so I've got a safe fifteen minutes at least before he's in the nefarious earshot zone. Which, as you and I both know, is very ambiguous when it comes to our bat-like friend."
"Uh, yeah." You emerged onto the street, blinking in the sunlight. "So you know I'm not with him right now, then."
"Yeah, Matt said that you had something to do at your apartment last night, and that you wouldn't be staying with him."
Ah. So Foggy didn't know that you were in a fight with Matt. You tried to act casual. "Yeah, I didn't see him last night. Word on the news is that he took down that active shooter."
"Oh, don't worry, I've already drilled him on the phone. Demanded to know whether he has any extra holes on him currently."
"That's a creepy way of putting it, Foggy."
"His answer was no," Foggy said blithely. "Anyway, I wanted to know if you knew what was going on with him."
You bit your lip, unsure of how to answer; it was too vague of a prompt to respond to. "Well, what have you noticed?" you asked carefully.
He snorted. "Pretty much everything that exists in the Moody Matt Murdock Archive. There's a never-ending mug of coffee on his desk, he's got extra bruises on his face, and he's so far behind in paperwork that I'm working overtime to cover his ass."
You felt a flare of annoyance on Foggy's behalf. "You don't have to do that. Let him reap the consequences."
"Nah. We're on the same ship, y'know? And if I've got to be the one keeping Nelson and Murdock afloat for awhile, it wouldn't be the first time."
"That's not fair to you."
But Foggy plowed on, unperturbed. "And my guess is that he hasn't been to confession in awhile. Did he go last Sunday?"
Crap. You had absolutely no idea, considering you hadn't seen Matt in days. "You know, I actually was thinking," you stalled, "about how — oh, shit!"
"What?"
"I'm running late!" you said, guilt shooting through you at the half-lie. While it wasn't untrue, it was also a terrible excuse. Poor Foggy didn't deserve either of you. "So sorry, Foggy, I've got to split. I'll call you later?"
"No problem-o," he said, and you gratefully ended the call, having no intention to call him back later with the threat of him questioning you again. Not that there was anything inherently wrong with him knowing that you were in a fight with Matt, but knowing him, he'd try to solve it, and the last thing you wanted was a counseling session led by Foggy.
That, however, was far from the worst encounter of your day.
Because of course in a city like New York, where the total population literally exceeded eight million, you'd run into the one person you didn't want to see, in the line of a local café, of all places. Not to mention it was a café you thought he'd never go to, seeing as you'd never been there with him before and only occasionally went on days like today when you needed a tomato and pesto panini to cheer you up.
At first, you didn't see him when you entered, because you were toggling with your phone to shut off your music and take out your earbuds. Only when you joined the line at the counter and looked up did you instantly recognize the man directly in front of you.
This has to be a cosmic joke. That was all you could think, as you stared numbly from the collar of his button-down to the heels of his shoes. He had obviously noticed you were there; his shoulders were tense, and from the death grip with which he held his cane, you might've thought he was going to turn around and whack you in the head with it.
You almost turned around and walked right out of the store, but defiance kept you rooted to your place. You stayed still, arms crossed, while Matt ordered a Greek salad. When it was your turn to order, he was still standing by the counter, waiting for his takeout to get packaged up.
"Could I have the tomato and pesto panini, please?" you asked the cashier, tapping your foot anxiously as Matt's presence seared on your right. "And also a water?"
"Sure thing. For here or to-go?"
"To-go, please."
"Y/N," Matt said finally, once you finished ordering and there was nothing else to do but face him. There wasn't a hint of a smile on his lips. "I didn't realize you were here."
"Don't worry about it," you told him. "I'm used to you not understanding anything when it comes to where I choose to be." You made your point all too obvious to Matt, whose lips pursed at the end of your sentence. One of the customers next to you gave you a funny look, as though to say, Are you insulting him because he's blind? Embarrassed, you stepped a bit closer to Matt so you could lower your voice. "And you need to get your shit together. Foggy's covering for you. Again. He doesn't deserve that. Just because you're brooding or whatever isn't an excuse to—"
"You're in no place to criticize," he said in a low voice. Without warning his hand shot out and gripped your shoulder with an iron-like strength, steering you to the hall leading to the bathrooms where it was quieter. You pressed yourself against the wall, still crossing your arms over yourself and ignoring the anxious guilt stirring in your chest.
Nope, nope, nope, you cannot be the one to apologize, he's got to do it first, do not apologize, no matter what—
"Foggy's my friend, too, and I have a right to tell you that you should treat him better," you said instead, panic flaring through you at the boldness of your own words. Dammit, stay calm, heartbeat, don't give me away.
Matt's voice was steely. "You've got nerve to say that to me, after everything that's happened."
Your mouth flopped open. "Are you serious? I've got nerve to say that you should treat your best friend better?"
"Did you ever stop to think that I might be spending my time actually helping people? That maybe things have been worse lately and I've been trying to do something about it? Saving this city, making sure that people like you get home safely? That you still get home safely?"
"I didn't ask for that."
"Well, neither did I," he shot back. "Now you know what it's like."
"I don't understand why you're mad at me," you said, frustrated. "I only tried to help. That was all, Matt."
He laughed derisively. "The fact that we've gone over this a few times now and you still can't see what's wrong about it is amazing, Y/N. Yeah, at first I was mad at how reckless your decision was, not to mention that you didn't come in with one single weapon on you. I've gotten over that. Now I'm just pissed that you can't see my side of things. You can't even entertain the thought for one second that I might be right. If you could just acknowledge that you were wrong—"
"That's a lofty ask coming from the same man who hasn't acknowledged my view, either."
"Then maybe we're at an impasse." Matt's eyes were trained on your ear; you could barely see them behind the lenses of the glasses. "Unless you can promise me that you'd never do something like that again."
"That's the dumbest condition I've ever heard," you snarled. "Don't be ridiculous."
Matt's hand abruptly left your shoulder, leaving it cold. "Then that's it. See, this is why I should never have let you know who I am, what I do. Mistakes happen and people get hurt."
"They do," you agreed. "They can get hurt in more ways than one, Matt. Physical pain isn't the only type of pain."
"I won't keep making that mistake, then," Matt said coolly. "And you won't have to worry about me hurting you ever again."
"Greek salad!" one of the workers yelled, and without further ado Matt's hand left your shoulder, leaving a cold spot there. You stared at the beige wall for another minute, and only left robotically once your own sandwich had been made.
Did we break up? The question plagued you all night. You stared at your ceiling, unable to feel even slightly sleepy. It was like a gnawing black hole inside you, and the more you thought about it the more you wanted to cry. Or scream. Maybe both. How had it all gone so wrong?
Crying eventually won out, and you crammed your face into your pillow as tears, unbidden, came out. It pissed you off at the same time, because you had a terrible feeling that Matt probably hadn't shed one tear over it.
He was excited for a chance to break up. You didn't want to believe it, but it seemed too rational to ignore. He'd been all too quick to jump at the chance to be alone again, hadn't he? He'd decided he didn't want to date anymore; it was apparently a failed experiment in allowing someone into both his lives as Matt Murdock and as Daredevil. You couldn't be enough to live in both of those lives with him, and so he had to cut you off. It made sense. Miserably you finally turned your light on and began to read, wondering distantly whether Matt was anywhere near you and if you had even crossed his mind that night.
Somehow you must have fallen asleep at some point, because suddenly your alarm was chiming loudly and light was streaming into your eyes. Groggily you pulled back your blankets and got dressed, showered and made breakfast, and only then did you check your phone.
A message from Karen was there. Slightly bewildered, you unlocked your phone.
Hey, Y/N! Was thinking of taking a drive upstate today. Spur of the moment thing. Want to join?
It was like a blessing; here was Karen, with a distraction ready to go that would get you out of your apartment and, more importantly, Hell's Kitchen. Without hesitation you agreed and she texted back almost immediately to tell you that she'd pick you up in an hour.
"Where are we headed?" you asked once you got into the passenger seat, grinning at her. She had put her hair in a ponytail and already had the music playing. This is exactly what I need. Now you almost hoped Matt would show up at your apartment today, because it gave you immense satisfaction to picture him taking the time to go see you and make amends, only for your apartment to be empty.
"It's a surprise," was all she said, giving you a mysterious smile. "I will say that it's a place meant for rejuvenation and open air."
Rejuvenation and open air. A spa day, maybe? You hoped so.
The drive ended up taking almost six hours. It was far longer than you were expecting and your legs were cramped by the time Karen finally announced that the destination was only five minutes away. The so-called "destination", however, was a bit concerning, because all you'd seen in the past thirty minutes was farmland, trees, and dilapidated signs for MALONE, NY.
"We're here," Karen announced, pulling the car into the lot beside an austere building.
"Uh — if you don't mind me asking," you said, starting to feel slightly concerned, "Where exactly is here?"
"Take a look," she said brightly.
You squinted at the letters sculpted above the doors. "Franklin County Courthouse? We should send a picture to Foggy. He'd find that hilarious."
"We won't have to send a picture, actually." Karen's lips were tight as though she were trying to resist smiling and you suddenly felt uneasy. "Foggy's pulling in, right now."
"What's going on?" you asked suspiciously, but a moment later, your question was answered.
Foggy parked right next to Karen, and right there, sitting sullenly in the passenger seat, was Matt, still dressed in a tee shirt and sweats that had a few old bloodstains on them.
"What the hell?" you hissed, launching yourself back against the seat as though Matt could see you. "Why is he here?"
Karen didn't bat an eye. "You and Matt are being stupid. Foggy and I agreed that you, Y/N, are the best thing that's ever happened to Matt Murdock and we're not going to let you two drift apart over a dumb miscommunication."
"It's not a miscommunication," you argued. "It's him being pig-headed and thinking that he can just—"
"You two both love each other, and that's why you're fighting," Karen interrupted. "So, this is our therapy that we devised."
You stared, agape. "What is?"
Foggy opened up your passenger side door, a wide smile on his face. "Hate to evict you, Y/N, but you've got to get out."
"Excuse me?"
"We're swapping," he said cheerfully. "And you're going to drive back to New York City with Matt."
"I'm — what? No, I'm not!"
"This isn't happening, Foggy." Matt had gotten out of the car and was closing the door. His glasses glinted in the sunlight, sending blinding beams of light bouncing at you. "This is between Y/N and me. Not you and Karen."
"Try and stop us, then," Foggy said, climbing into the car.
Matt was glowering. "I will. I'm warning you, Foggy. If it comes to force, then—"
But Karen only laughed. "Foggy said you'd act all threatening, Matt. It's kind of cute that you think it's going to stop us."
"I did say that!" Foggy was practically aglow. "I told Karen that you'd threaten to go all Daredevil on us, but that's why we picked this venue. See?" He pointed at the courthouse, where there were several security cameras. "Sorry, man. I wouldn't recommend fighting us while on tape or you'll compromise your identity."
Matt's fists were clenched so tightly that even you began to feel a bit nervous.
"How did you even know?" you asked, turning to Foggy. "When I talked to you on the phone, I didn't say anything. And I'm guessing Mr. Cold Shoulder over there didn't confess his feelings to you."
Foggy looked at you, eyebrows raised. "Seriously, Y/N? I knew the moment Matt was moody and you were at your own apartment. You underestimate the sensitivity of my best-friends-are-squabbling-radar."
"This is a waste of time," Matt said. "We're in an argument, and it has nothing to do with you two. So let me ride back with you, Foggy, and Y/N can stay with Karen until she's ready to actually behave like an adult and talk to me—"
"Are you kidding me?" you said, incredulous. "You're the one making this so difficult! And by the way, this is feeling very much like kidnapping — Karen, you sort of lied to me–"
"We never lied. We just didn't specify the truth," she countered. "It's for your own good."
"Here." Foggy tossed the keys to his car at you. "You and Matt enjoy your next six hours together."
"Foggy—"
"Bye!" He slammed his passenger door, and Karen stepped on the gas so hard that you were left in a cloud of dust, coughing as you breathed it in.
Once they were gone, it was the worst silence imaginable that was left. Matt still stood, stiff as a board, beside the car. Not doing it. Not even going to try talking to him. Resolutely you turned on your heel and began to march out of the lot, keeping your chin high.
"Where are you going?" Matt demanded from behind you.
"Home."
"You planning on walking?"
"No."
"Then—"
"There are other methods of transportation, Matthew. I'm going to find a bus. Or a taxi. Or I'll hitchhike. Anything, really, to avoid spending any time in a car with you."
"So you're going to just leave Foggy's car here?"
You halted in your tracks. That was a caveat that you hadn't foreseen. Matt certainly couldn't drive Foggy's car back to Hell's Kitchen. "He deserves it for leaving us here," you said, fighting to keep the uncertainty out of your voice.
To your irritation, Matt snorted. "You're lying."
"Shut up. I'm going to hitchhike."
"Again, you're lying."
"Fine." You stomped back over and jangled the keys. "I'm driving back in Foggy's car, but you're going to have to find some other way to get back because I don't want you in here with me."
"You think I'm thrilled about spending the rest of my Saturday with you, Y/N?" Matt's voice was biting. "But look around you. We're in a small town, upstate New York. The public transportation here is nonexistent."
"Tough."
"Y/N, I don't like this either, but you're going to have to suck it up and drive us back."
"Don't tell me what to do," you snapped. You jangled the keys again. "You're forgetting who has the keys here. I'm in control."
Quicker than the blink of an eye, Matt swung you around, wrapping the crook of his left arm around your neck, and swiping your wallet from your pocket with his right hand. He was warm; you could smell his shampoo just from being pressed, back-to, against his chest. As much as you were pissed at him, your body tingled at the physical touch, and goosebumps rose up your arms before he released you almost as quickly, holding your wallet up as though it were a prize. "Don't be so sure," he said, the corners of his lips lifting up.
You lunged at him, but he easily swapped the wallet to his other hand. "Give me my wallet back!"
"Not until you drive us back."
"What if the security cameras—"
"Foggy and Karen were bluffing. I guarantee there's no one looking over the footage right now."
You cursed under your breath. There was no way you'd be able to get your wallet back from Matt, and without it, you had no money on you. "Fine! Fine. Get in the car, Matthew."
Without a word he climbed in, and you got into the driver's seat.
The first two and a half hours, while horribly uncomfortable, at least didn't involve any talking. You were more than happy to realize that Matt, true to his declaration that he had no interest in riding with you, had no intentions to speak.
And then you had to pee.
You pulled into the first gas station that you drove by and parked by the front. "I need to use the restroom," you said shortly to Matt. "And I'm getting a water."
He didn't answer.
"Do you need anything?" you continued, forcing out the words. "Aside from the ability to empathize?"
Matt's head tilted towards you. "If I needed anything, I'd get it myself."
"Right. You get mad at anyone who tries to help you."
"Quit playing offense and hurry up, Y/N. This is the last way that I wanted to spend my day."
You barely resisted giving him the finger as you slammed the car door and went into the gas station. The cashier handed you a key for a bathroom outside the building, so you went back out and wrapped around to the back of the gas station where there was a rusting metal door labeled TOILET.
The lock took nearly a full thirty seconds to twist, it was so rusted. Only after locking it did you realize it was pointless anyway; there was no one out here for miles and probably the only other roadtrippers along this highway — Foggy and Karen — were ahead of you.
After being careful to not touch the toilet seat and then flushed with the toe of your shoe, you washed up, trying to flatten your hair and examining the dark circles under your eyes.
And then you tried to open the lock. It was so rusted that it took a few moments for it to even budge, and then, with a dusty snap, the lever broke right off and fell on the floor, leaving the door still locked.
For a moment, you just stared mutely at the broken lock. This is the nice, big cherry on top of today. Then you tried the door; it was still most definitely locked, and now there was no way to unlock it.
"Shit, shit, shit, shit," you muttered, prodding at the broken part with your finger. Stuck in a gas station bathroom, of course that's what had to happen to you. You wished you'd purchased a water before using the restroom because the prospect of not having water was suddenly making your throat parched.
The cashier, you remembered, had earbuds in, so hollering at him through the wall probably wasn't going to get you anywhere. Still, you rapped loudly on the side of the bathroom wall — hurting your knuckles on it in the process; it was made of cement — and shouted that the lock had broken.
It was to no avail. The cashier didn't show up to help.
What was worse was knowing that Matt could probably "see" everything with his damn echolocation. You didn't doubt that he knew exactly what was happening, from the way you were currently trying to pick at the lock with your bobby pin to the way that your heart was indubitably racing.
And that asshole hasn't bothered coming out to help me. You gritted your teeth and glanced at the tiny awning window in the top left corner of the bathroom, above the toilet.
Well, it would have to do.
You climbed on top of the toilet and reached upwards to unlock the window. It was easy enough to reach, despite the tall ceilings of the gas station, though hoisting yourself through there would be a different question. It wasn't like you spent your nights doing gymnastic feats all around Hell's Kitchen like someone else that you knew.
Who was currently still minding his own business, sitting in the car.
You finally knocked out the screen on the window and struggled to lift yourself up enough that your head could poke through. It was a tight fit, but you could make it.
Now, the only issue was actually getting down safely. You realized, looking down at the pavement below, that it was much higher than you realized. It wasn't as though you had taken any stairs to get into the bathroom, but coming out of a window head-first was a much different story than if you could have gotten out feet-first.
Resolutely you pulled your phone out of your pocket and dialed Matt's number.
"Hello?" he said, picking up on the seventh ring.
"You took your damn time answering."
"What do you want?"
"What do you think, Matt? I'm sure you're enjoying this little spectacle of myself that I'm making right now in the world-on-fire."
"Actually, believe it or not, I'm trying to ignore you as much as I can."
You took a deep breath. "I need your help."
"I figured."
You waited. There was only silence. Damn you, Matt. "I mean... can you please help me?"
There was the background noise of the car door opening. "If it gets us home quicker."
It was even more humiliating than you could have predicted when Matt came around the corner of the gas station, tapping his white cane along the pavement until he was no longer within the view of the parking lot or the windows of the building. You wriggled through the window a bit more, so that now your entire top half was practically dangling out of the window, and waited for Matt to line himself up below you.
Only then did you realize he was smirking.
"Are you laughing?" you demanded.
Matt's smile flattened out. "No."
"You were!"
"Maybe. Cut me some slack. You're having to evacuate a gas station bathroom through a narrow window."
"Well, catch me," you said, petulant. "Okay?"
"Ready."
"You're sure? You won't drop me?"
"As tempting as it sounds, no."
You released your grip on the window and dropped out, and true to his word, Matt grabbed you before you could faceplant into the pavement, helping you get upright and brushing some of the dust off of your shoulder.
You would have simply walked away, and gone back into the gas station — because you couldn't allow yourself to get comfortable in his grip, not when he didn't want to touch you, not when you were in a fight, and especially not when you weren't sure you meant anything to him anymore — but he didn't let go.
"Y/N," Matt said, so quietly that your heart flip-flopped. "Y/N, I love you. I love you more than anything and it kills me to not be with you every day."
That was all you needed. You opened your mouth, to respond I love you, too, but he jammed his mouth against yours, kissing you so passionately that you made a small sound of surprise. His hands lowered to your waist and he lifted you up; you wrapped your legs around him tightly and soaked in everything about him — the way his hair felt on your forehead, the press of his chest against your body, the strength of his hands on your back.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," you whispered, sliding back down him and landing on the pavement. "I shouldn't have put you through what I did. I would've been pissed too if I were in your position."
"Are you kidding me? You're the bravest girl I've ever met. No one else would have come for me like you did. And I should have respected that. Instead I made you feel like shit about it." Matt's hand traced your jaw. "Can you forgive me?"
"I already have," you admitted.
"I'm so sorry, Y/N."
"I know," you said, and then you laughed shakily. "I guess we'll have to award Karen and Foggy certificates in therapy, then?"
"They'll never let us live it down," he confirmed, and his smile, that look of contentedness and the way that he kept his hand on you at all times as though afraid to lose you, was what told you that everything would be alright.
After all, it was Matt.
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bozowrites · 4 years ago
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Headcanon
↳ The first kick.
Members: [CC] Dream, Georgenotfound, Sapnap, Wilbur Soot, Quackity, Karl Jacobs and Fundy.
TW: reader has a uterus.
MASTERLIST | NAVIGATION
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DREAM
When you shouted from the living room (he was in the washroom) that you felt a kick, man speed ran going to the washroom to see you. Don’t worry, he washed his hands too.
He almost tripped on the coffee table when he finally reached you.
He placed his hands on your belly and waited patiently for the kick.
And soon he felt it.
He laughed gently at how sweet it felt to him. He kept rubbing your belly, placing his forehead on it, feeling somewhat closer to the growing child in you.
“Our baby is growing strong.”
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GEORGENOTFOUND
You two were chilling on the sofa when it happened.
You had an alarmed look on your face and George sprang to life in absolute fear. Started rambling out words, trying to understand why you looked so worried.
You grabbed his hand and guided it to your belly, the spot where there were raging kicks. He grew silent immediately.
He had stars in his eyes at the feeling of his baby’s kick. Giggled a lot too.
“That’s our baby!”
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SAPNAP
Was in call with Karl when it happened.
You waddled your way over to your room to share the news.
When the words register in his brain, he (and Karl) was cheering. Helps you sit on the bed so he can feel the kick too.
“Karl, my baby’s kicking! Can you believe it?”
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WILBUR SOOT
It was early morning. You had been awake for awhile, but Wilbur was fast asleep.
But when the kick happened, you hit his torso multiple times. Woke him up.
He’s brain was foggy, but he listened to you and placed his hands on your belly. When he finally felt that kick, man was awake SO FAST.
“Holy shit! Holy fuck.”
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QUACKITY
He was streaming when you texted him a series of times, trying to get his attention without having to get up from your spot on the sofa.
Finally you called him and got his attention.
When the words left your mouth, he was up and leaving his streaming room. Didn’t tell chat anything because he was so occupied with the thought of the first kicks.
“Where? Where? Let me feel!”
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KARL JACOBS
Was in someone else’s stream, probably playing Jackbox when you entered silently.
He muted and beckoned you over. When you put his hands on your belly, he already knew what was up. When he felt it?
Teared up and unmuted (asked you for permission first though), and shouted to his friend plus his friend’s stream that your baby kicked.
“GUYS, MY BABY JUST KICKED!"
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FUNDY
He was playing with the kitty in the living room when you shouted from your shared room.
Man bolted with Boots right behind him.
He and Boots were checking for injuries, literally so scared there was something wrong with the baby or you.
There was not.
You took his hand and guided it to your stomach and he knew instantly.
“Holy shit! Our baby’s got a kick!”
1K notes · View notes
untaemedqueen · 4 years ago
Text
Red Sus (M)
Idol!Jeongguk x Girlfriend!Reader
WordCount: 3.9k
Genre: Smut, Porn With Little Plot, Fluff, Among Us!Fic, Among Us!Crack?
Warnings: Jeongguk’s Hot Headed Ass, Taehyung LITERALLY THROWING THE GAME, Impreg Kink, Big IQ Brain Power Plays, Fingering, Dirty Talk, Fellatio, Face Fucking, Praise, Edging, Unprotected Sex, Belly Buldge, Cunnilingus, Pussy Slapping, Spitting, Doggy Style, Multiple Orgasms, Cream Pie
A/N: Sooooo I’m too obsessed with Among Us to not make a fic? And even though this is shorter than most that I make I thought it would be fun to whip something up in the spirit of BTS’ competitive games. Do I believe 100% that Kim Taehyung would throw a game? Absolutely. Thank you so much to the forever squad @ppersonna, @ladyartemesia, @xjoonchildx for letting me rant and talk about this insanity of a one shot and reading it! Thank you to baby Bucca @thejooncrew​ for reading it! I hope you enjoy the silly and the smutty! 
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The house is filled with loud screams, mainly from your boyfriend as he ties his hair up into a ponytail.
You can see the sweat on his neck beading as he sits in the voting screen.
"Oh yeah?! Then Taehyung hyung, where were you? Because I went to reactor when it was called and you didn't follow me and now Hobi hyung is dead." Jeongguk goes quiet as he waits for his answer and you begin to smirk as the muscles in his back tense up.
"WHAT THE FUCK? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? LAME. LAME. LAME. RED SUS. RED SUS AS FUCK! There is no possible way you were in cafeteria! Because I ran through cafeteria from admin to get to the reactor!" Jeongguk has gotten angry during games before. But, this is the first time you've seen his neck veins bulging.
"Hyungs! It's not me! I didn't kill Hobi hyung!" He whines out before putting his elbows to his computer table and cupping his forehead with his hands.
"You're fucking throwing!" He complains and you watch the screen as his black character racks up smaller bodies beneath his name. He scoffs loudly as he mutes his mic before turning to you.
"I want you to play with us. I can't play with them. It's so frustrating." He whines as he rolls his chair over to you. He throws himself out of the chair and onto your lap as you caress his handsome face.
Guk has always been so competitive, so good with everything that you can understand him being frustrated in a game like this one. Sometimes he needs a little pick me up. A little incentive to get him going again. And you know just the thing.
"Alright, I’ll play. But how about if I win, we make a baby?" You ask and his eyes flash over with mischief.
“Yeah? You want to make a mini crewmate with me?” He asks playfully and you narrow your eyes at him for the bad joke.
“Okay. Okay. Sorry, no bad jokes. Only filling your pussy with my cum.” He says before he chuckles deeply as his hand roams over the curve of your side.
"That sound good? We play and if I win you can fuck a baby into me like you’ve been trying to do?" You ask once more. 
His bottom lip is between his teeth as his fingers drift over the imprint of your puffy nipple through your tank top.
"How about you play with the boys but I have to play with you while you do it? And if you win either Imposter or Crewmate then I'll fuck my baby into you like I've been dying to do since I met you five years ago." His offer is tempting and you begin to smile as he does the same.
His fingers drift over your nipples, watching them strain and become erect against the thin fabric.
“Game on, Jeon Jeongguk.”
With a sharp breath between his teeth, he leans up on his elbows. His tongue peeks out of his mouth to place wet kisses against your clothed chest. His tongue flicks at the stiff peaked bud, enjoying how the lavender shirt becomes darker with his saliva. 
"Guk?" You can hear faintly from the computer and he sits up quickly as he hears them call his name.
The word Defeat flashes on the screen and he sighs loudly as he shuffles back over to the computer desk. Fixing his erection, he puts his headphones back on.
"Y/N is going to play for me. I'm going to take a shower." He says calmly as you open up your laptop. He hands you his mouse as he gives them farewells. Booting up the screen, he reads out the letters of the private server before situating himself behind you.
You take in a sharp breath as he pulls your tank top over your head. Your mind already becoming foggy with thoughts of lust as the server boots up.
"Hey guys." You call out as you join the Discord server. 
"Hey hey!" Taehyung cheers as he runs around your purple character on screen.
You've played Among Us before with your friends but never your boyfriend's group. This will be interesting. You're usually very good and right now you need to be. There's nothing you want more in the world then to start a family with the man you love and adore.
"Start." Jin calls out and Jeongguk mutes your mic for you.
You take in a sharper breath than before as his thumbs swipe across your nipples. His lips trail from one shoulder to the other and you shudder as the Shhhh screen disappears.
"Impostor." You tell him and he chuckles to himself before nodding.
"Better hope you're good if you want me to fuck my cum into you and make this baby." He jeers. 
Faking tasks for you is easy, but it's considerably harder when your smoking hot boyfriend is behind you. He's touching every bit of flesh he can. Rolling and pinching your nipples just perfectly to distract you from the task at hand.
His lips are kissing at the shell of your ear when you get your first kill on Jimin in Navigation before hopping into the vent. 
"Every good kill you get, I'll reward you." Jeongguk whispers before peeking at the muted mic. Drifting his fingers south, he watches you as you jump out of the vent in admin before pretending to stalk the admin screen.
"Clean." Jeongguk whispers as Hoseok runs into the room. 
As you exit the admin screen, the dead body report comes up and Jeongguk holds his breath.
"It's Yoongi hyung! It's Yoongi hyung!" Taehyung chants and Guk laughs as you unmute your mic.
"What?! Why would you say that?!" Yoongi yells as you giggle.
“First of all, where’s Jimin’s body?” Namjoon asks and you hear Taehyung hum.
“He’s in Navigation.” He replies.
"I saw Y/N in admin so she's good." Hoseok calls out and your boyfriend gives a thumbs up.
He shoves his hand in your pants and you squirm nervously.
Parting the now slick folds of your pussy, his middle finger rubs smooth circles onto your clit. Your back falters into his chest at the pleasurable feeling and you find yourself giving the smallest whimper.
"Y/N, what did you do this round?" Namjoon asks and you clear your throat.
Jeongguk pauses to let you collect yourself.
"I did card swipe and wires in admin before staying on the admin screen to see if anyone vented." You say before hearing hums of agreement.
"Yeah. I'll take that. And, I did see her in admin so I believe it." Hoseok says. Jeongguk begins his unrelenting torture to your clit once more as he kisses softly down the back of your neck.
"YOONGI HYUNG IS SUS!" Taehyung screams and you can't help but giggle before gasping gently at the pleasure and muting your mic.
"Shut up Taehyung! You're the worst third impostor I've ever fucking seen. You're throwing, you IDIOT!" Yoongi screams back.
"Skip." Jin mumbles before the screen goes black once more.
"You're doing so well, baby girl." Guk whispers as he trails his slender fingers along your slick folds.
"Fuck. Guk." You whine as you put your head back to his shoulder.
"Better pay attention. If you want me to fuck a baby into you that is." He reminds you.
You were intrigued when you first found out about his kink but after watching some porn videos with him and hearing him talk about it in bed, it's certainly grown on you.
You stopped taking birth control a while ago and have been trying to have a baby for so long now. But, fun games like this couldn't hurt. They're exciting.
Starting the round, you head off towards reactor and pretend to do Simon Says when Namjoon enters to do 1-10.
You can barely focus as your boyfriend pinches and rolls your nipple between his fingertips. 
"Can't wait till you're swollen with my baby. Gonna let everyone know just how much I love on you. I can't wait till these pretty tits fill up with milk just for my child." Jeongguk whispers in your ear and you shiver before killing Namjoon and venting.
You sabotage the doors all around the left side before popping out of the vent in lower engine and running into electrical with Jin.
"Lean back a little bit for me, baby girl." Your boyfriend demands and you do as you're told. He thrusts two fingers deep into your cunt and you moan loudly at the tiny burn.
"You're so excited to have my baby. You hear how wet you are for me? Getting your cute little panties all soaked." He whispers before nipping at your earlobe.
You kill Jin before venting and Namjoon's body is found by Yoongi.
"SELF REPORTED!" Taehyung screams and you moan as Jeongguk curls his fingers to the delicate bundle of nerves inside of you.
"Shut the fuck up Taehyung. My God!" Yoongi whines.
"Where's the body?" Hoseok asks.
"Reactor. Oh shit. Jin is dead too. I think it's Taehyung or he's throwing." Yoongi says matter-of-factly. 
"Y/N, where were you this round?" Hoseok asks.
Jeongguk keeps pressure to your g-spot as you unmute.
"I did gas can top and then gas can bottom. Then went into electrical to do the three spinning things." You say before muting yourself again.
"I trust Y/N." Taehyung says before clearing his throat.
"Fuck Guk, keep going. My pussy is so wet for you." You whine as his large hand spreads your leg wider.
"We have to vote here guys." Hoseok calls out.
"I'm voting for Taehyung. He's putting the blame on me so it's got to be him." Jeongguk laughs behind you as he begins to fuck you with his fingers again.
"I'm going with Taehyung too." Hoseok says and you vote the second youngest out before moaning your boyfriend's name.
"That's it baby. Fuck, you love this." Your boyfriend mumbles as he pulls his cock out of his sweatpants.
"Kill one more and you get a fat load of cum up your needy cunt." He reminds you as Taehyung floats through the air. 
The heel of his palm digs into your clit and you whimper out as you watch Hoseok stay near the emergency meeting button.
You call reactor quickly and run across with both Yoongi and Hoseok as your cooldown meter ticks away to nothing. Finally you kill Yoongi and breathe a sigh of relief as you win the round.
"Damn. It wasn't Yoongi?" Taehyung asks dumbfounded.
"I said it wasn't me like fifty times KIM TAEHYUNG." Yoongi yells.
"Gg fellas. But I gotta go. Bye!" You squeal as you exit the Discord call.
Jeongguk puts your laptop and headphones on the floor before tackling you to the mattress with a sly grin.
He tugs off your sleep shorts and your underwear before taking off his sweatpants and smiling widely. 
You absentmindedly lick your lips as you stare at his rock hard cock. It was a sight you could never get tired of. Slightly curved and beading precum at the tip of his long length, he begins to chuckle as you eye him. The pink rose veins of his cock call out to you and you wrap your hand around the thick base earning a whimper from your boyfriend above you.
“Fuck. Baby.” He whines as you stroke him, feeling the velvety soft skin against your palm.
His cock twitches with need as you sit up.
Looking up at him below your thick lashes, he takes a sharp breath through his teeth anticipating what’s to come next. 
Your tongue swirls around the head of his cock, picking up the beads of precum that linger. Guk moans loudly above you, his hands grasp at your head as you enter him into your mouth. 
“Oh fuck, you’re so good at sucking my cock baby, shit.” He moans out. 
His perfectly manicured nails dig into your scalp and you bob your head. 
“Just like that. Keep going. I love when you slobber on my cock. Shows me how horny you get for me.” His bottom lip tucks between his teeth again as he pushes your head down, losing himself in the pleasure you’re giving him.
Your eyes spring with fresh tears as you gag on his large length and the sound only goads him on to hear more of them. 
Swallowing around his cock, he preens as he goes deeper and deeper within your throat.
“Such a good girl. Fuck.” He praises through gritted teeth. His eyes lock onto yours again as tears stream down your cheeks. 
“Yeah. Fuck you love this, don’t you? Love being a little cocksleeve for me.” His cock begins to throb within your throat and you whine at the feeling before he’s pulling out and sighing loudly.
“Lay down for me, baby girl.” He says as he pulls his hair tie tighter. 
Doing as told you let out a soft moan as his lips encircle your areola. His tongue flicks at your stiff peaked bud as his cock glides through your folds.
The stimulation to your clit is so powerful, you feel almost breathless. Every rut against your core has you losing all semblance of reality. 
“Yes. Yes. In me, please.” You beg as he shows love to your other breast. 
Aligning to your core, his hand cups your cheek. He gives you a small smile before pressing his lips to yours in a passionate kiss.
Gasping as he enters you, his tongue glides over yours as you grip his tattooed arms.
"Oh fuck!" You whine as your head lolls back.
"Oh my God." Guk groans as he buries his face into your neck.
Wrapping your legs around his waist, your nails scrape down the honey toned skin of his arms.
"Fuck, you feel so good baby. So wet and tight for me." He moans against your skin as he begins a relentless pace.
Taking his head away from your neck, he situates his hands on either side of your face before thrusting harder into you.
His eyes drift slowly down your body to where you are joined and he moans loudly before pressing his hand to your womb.
“Fuck, look how big my cock is in your tight little pussy.” He moans and your eyes drift to where he’s looking.
His cock is so long and thick inside of you, you can see the outline as he thrusts in and out of your soppy cunt.
“God, you’re incredible!” He whines as he picks up the pace.
Sitting up on his knees, his hips continue to snap and roll as a thin sheen of sweat graces his body.
Your fingers drift over the hard muscles of his abs as you moan for him. He fucks you so well, muddling your mind and drying your mouth and throat.
“You’re gonna look so good, nice and pregnant with my baby. So fucking perfect carrying my child inside of you. Shit! You’re so fucking wet!” He cries out as he grips your hips.
His perfect nails scrape down the skin of your hips and the slight twinge of pain earning a loud groan from you.
He’s so perfect. So yours. And, so eager to put what’s his inside of you.
“Tell me how much you want my baby inside of you.” Jeongguk demands as his hand reaches for the apex of your thighs. 
Rearing back and spitting on your already soaked pussy, his thumb begins to rub circles onto your clit. Your thighs lock and shake through the intense pleasure and you can barely think before he’s slapping your clit to demand words from your mouth.
“I want you to fuck a baby into me so badly. Want you to cum inside and watch me get all big with your baby.” You whine as you palm your breasts in hand.
“Fuck yes. Can’t wait till you're nice and big. Get to fuck you from behind with your belly in my hands.” He mumbles as his head lolls back.
You could feel yourself starting to reach the height of your pleasure. The pressure within you becomes almost too much to withstand. 
“Guk, please. Please! I want to cum!” You whine and he lets a smirk grace his features before he’s fucking you up the bed.
Your hands grip the sheets, white knuckling them as your eyes flutter shut. 
“Cum on my cock, baby girl. Show me how much you want my baby.” He demands as he pinches your clit.
Behind your eyes, a galaxy explodes and paints the back of your eyelids as you orgasm. Your ears ring and you can barely hear him praising you for all you’re worth.
“Oh fuck! You’re going to make me cum!” He whines as he pulls out of you.
You whimper at the loss. You feel drunk off his pleasure. Sluggishly you watch as his tattooed arms wrap around your thighs. 
Laying down between your thighs, he ruts his cock against the mattress as his face reaches towards your core.
“Guk!” You whine as he wraps his lips against your throbbing bud.
Your body jolts and tingles with overstimulation as you grip his ponytail.
“T-Too much! I can’t!” You cry out but he doesn’t listen. 
He gives soft licks to your clit, pushing you through the overstimulation until you’re preening for him again.
His name tumbles from your lips like a prayer as you begin to grind your spent cunt against his face begging for more.
Leaving your clit, his nose brushes against your nub as his tongue enters you. The muscular organ goes rigid as he fucks you before whirling around inside of you. With a yelp, you grip his hair harder within your grasp. Tugging almost painfully, he groans against you. The vibration seems to course through your body. The noise reinvigorating you for more.
“Oh fuck! Jeongguk!” You cry out as he grips your thighs harder. 
His eyes flutter shut and your breath hitches as he pulls away. 
“You taste so fucking good. So sweet.” He mumbles. 
The image of his handsome face, covered and shining in your slick is almost sensory overload for you. 
He smacks your pussy playfully once more before his hands grip your sides. In an instant you’re on your stomach, face pressed down into a pillow. 
Guk positions you to his liking, his hand roaming over the soft skin of your back before knocking your legs open. 
Grippin the back of your neck, he places soft kisses across your shoulder as he aligns himself back to your entrance.
“Fuck, I love you.” He murmurs into your ear.
“I love you t-” The final word is cut off with a loud moan as he enters you in one swift motion.
You can hear him groan low and deep in your ear, and can feel the rumble of his chest as he presses himself against your back. 
“Your pussy is so fucking sloppy. You’re creaming all over my cock, filthy girl.” He punctuates each word with a harsh thrust and your moans become stunted and muffled into the pillow.
Pulling away from your back, his hand grips your hair into a makeshift ponytail before tugging harshly as he fucks you with everything he has. 
You can hear his ragged breathing and his gentle moans letting you know how good you feel around him. 
“I can’t wait to fuck your pregnant pussy. I read it feels so much warmer and tighter. So much sweeter. You’re going to drive me insane with this pretty little cunt of yours.” He informs you as he hooks his hand around your throat.
Pulling you upright against his chest, he fucks up into you at a speed that should be illegal. Your hands scramble to grab anything as he applies the perfect amount of pressure to the column of your throat. 
Gasping in your pleasure, you grip at his arm feeling his muscles and veins flexing and protruding. His forehead presses against your temple and he curses softly in your ear as his cock thickens and throbs within you.
“Goddamn, baby girl. You’re going to make me cum. Rub your clit for me, cum on my cock first.” With a shaky hand you do as told, rubbing furious circles against your clit as your arousal drips down both his and your legs. 
“Guk! Fuck! I want to get pregnant for you so badly!” You cry out as his teeth gingerly clamp your earlobe.
“I know, baby girl. You want me to cum in your needy little pussy so badly. I can feel it. You want to watch your belly swell with my baby and let everyone know who keeps you so well stuffed.” He whispers in your ear. 
Your eyes roll back in your head as the pressure builds up again within you. Your legs shake and your moans become whimpers as you focus on his throbbing cock inside of you.
“Want to hold your big belly walking down the street letting everyone know Jeon Jeongguk put that baby inside you. That no one gets to have me but you. Fuck!” He curses loudly as his thrusts begin to get sloppy.
“Guk! I’m going to cum!” You whine as you grip his arm harder.
“Good girl, cum on my cock. I’m- Fuck- I’m not going to last.” He cries out as his eyes squeeze shut. 
As you orgasm the second time, he gasps loudly behind you. Letting your throat go, he cups your breasts behind his large hands and squeezes roughly as he begins to cum. You can feel his warm cum painting the walls of your pussy and he whines your name gently as he buries his face into your neck.
With a gentle cry, your orgasm becomes tenfold feeling how warm his cum is inside of you. 
“Oh shit.” He mumbles as he holds you tightly to his chest. 
“Fuck.” You whisper as he presses soft kisses to your heated skin.
You stay like this for a minute before he’s flopping both of your bodies down onto the bed with an exasperated sigh. 
“God, I hope we get pregnant this time.” He whispers and you know he’s praying to God for it to come true.
“I hope so too.” You whisper as your fingers drift over the skin of his arm.
The silence is comfortable for a few minutes and his grip on your tightens as he hugs your body to his.
“Wanna play another round with the boys before we order dinner?” He asks innocently and you begin to smile as you nod.
“If you win again, I’ll fuck more cum into you. Deal?” He asks as he pulls out of you.
His fingers spread your battered pussy lips as he watches your cunt begin to cream with his cum. 
“Deal.” You say with a giggle as he runs his fingers over your womb.
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“I think it’s Y/N.” Jeongguk mumbles into the mic before turning his head to you and narrowing his eyes. 
You stay stone faced as you look at him before turning back to the screen, “It’s not me. I did all my tasks. I’m just following people around to make sure they don’t die. I think it’s Taehyung. Red sus.” You say as you lean back against the headboard of the bed cracking your fingers.
Jeongguk rolls his eyes as everyone begins to agree with you.
“Red is always sus. Especially when you’re Kim Taehyung.” You hear Jimin say with a laugh.
You begin to smirk as everyone votes Tae, you can hear him protesting and screaming. With a triumphant laugh the victory screen appears and you fold your arms as you quip an eyebrow at your boyfriend.
He grumbles gently before muting his mic. 
“Fine. Spread those pretty legs for me.” He whispers as he leaves the game. 
2K notes · View notes
emwritesfootball · 3 years ago
Text
Lockdown Punishments 3 | Eric Dier
Over the last couple of days Eric was messaging you pictures of his veggie garden that he has been working on during lockdown. He decided to facetime you the garden whilst you were in a business zoom call. You muted the call but had to keep your camera on. He was showing you around and what he had done, and it wasn’t until he flipped his camera to selfie mode that he was topless just in short shorts and sweating from working in his garden. You became instantly aroused and he could tell. He asked what you were doing, and you told him you were currently in a business meeting. He thought it would be a perfect time to punish you and told you to get yourself of discreetly on facetime to him without the people noticing from the meeting.
Word Count: 1,126
Warnings: semi-public FaceTime sex while on Zoom, mentions of edging and vegetable-fucking; a sexy, sweaty Gardener!Eric
A/N: Please don’t put vegetables or any other food inside of your vagina xx
- - -
Lockdown: Day Thirty.
Eric: My tomatoes are growing [two attachments]
Lockdown: Day Thirty-Six.
You: How are the tomatoes?
Eric: [five attachments]
Eric: The basil misses you and so do I.
You: Tell the basil I miss it, too xx
Lockdown: Day Forty.
You were sat in front of your laptop trying to keep a neutral expression on your face as the world’s most boring meeting took place on your screen. When Eric’s contact information popped up on your phone as an incoming FaceTime request. You were quick to accept, making sure to mute yourself on your meeting before Eric’s face popped up.
“Hello.” You couldn’t see his face, but his vegetable garden was in full view. “I was working out here and the cucumbers wouldn’t stop asking me to FaceTime you.”
You let out a giggle, setting your phone in the centre of your laptop so it would look like you were paying attention while speaking to Eric. You placed your hand over your mouth as you responded to him in full volume now that you were muted. “Are the cucumbers ready to be picked?”
Eric’s hand came on the screen and you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering as you compared his large hand to the growing cucumber. “Mm, just about - I think about a week or so and they’ll be ripe enough to be picked. I just wish you were here to enjoy them with me.” His voice got low as he murmured, “Would’ve loved to watch you fuck yourself on one before I make you eat it.”
“Eric!” You’d never heard anything so filthy in your life and coming from Eric’s mouth, no less. “You wouldn’t.”
“Maybe I would.” He switched the FaceTime camera around so you could see him, and damn he looked good. Eric was sweaty and shirtless, a little sunburned and out of breath from exertion.
“You can’t distract me like this,” you murmured, your voice strangled. “I’m in a meeting for work and I’m supposed to be paying attention.” You squeezed your thighs together as you tried to focus on your boss.
“Oh, really?” Eric’s smirk grew. “The perfect time for your latest punishment, then.”
“No. No no no no no.” Your eyes widened and you tried to shake your head but stopped halfway through.
“You’re muted, yes?”
“Y-Yes.”
“Then you’ll do exactly as I say. Can your colleagues still see you?”
“Yes.”
“Even better.”
“What are you going to have me do?”
Eric hummed, raising his eyebrows. “You’re going to touch yourself during this meeting.”
“No. I...I can’t.”
“Is there a problem?” Your boss’s voice sounded over your speakers, calling your name and bringing attention to yourself.
“No, there’s no problem, I’m sorry. I’m just a little confused. Could you go over the process one more time, please?” You asked, breathing a sigh of relief when your boss launched back into the beginning of her speech.
“Almost getting caught already?” Eric chuckled. “Naughty girl.”
You made a strangled noise in the back of your throat at his words. “I am not!”
“You are, and you’re going to touch yourself and masturbate during your meeting. If you’re good, I might even let you cum while all your colleagues watch. Just don’t let them know what you’re doing.”
“Please, Sir. I don’t think I can do this.”
“Do you need to safeword?”
“No.”
“Then you’ll do this. Unless you’d rather have a more intense punishment…?” Eric trailed off but the look on his face told you he had something more sinister in mind if you turned this down.
“No, Sir. This punishment is just fine,” you said, swallowing hard. Your pussy was already betraying you and you could feel your damp panties leak onto your leather couch. “Please continue.”
“Tell me how wet you are.”
You dipped your hand out of view of the camera, your fingers easily connecting with your sodden panties. “So wet. You make me so horny, Sir.”
“Describe it. Use your words, Babygirl.”
“I can’t. What if they read my lips?”
“Then let them. At least they’ll come away from the meeting knowing that one of their colleagues is getting orgasms.” You felt your cheeks heat with embarrassment as Eric said, “Now, tell me how wet you are.”
“Dripping. My pussy is so sensitive I’m going to cum any minute. You’ve been denying me an orgasm for weeks, Sir - I don’t know how long I can hold out.”
“You’ll hold out until I say you can cum,” Eric growled, his eyes narrowing.
“Yes, Sir.”
You shifted slightly in your seat as you rubbed your clit, a low whimper leaving your lips that only you and Eric could hear. You parted your lower lips slightly, your middle finger tapping your clit.
“How’s my pussy doing?” Eric asked lowly, his expression heated.
“Needy. Oh God, I want an orgasm, Sir.” As if in response, your pussy clenched around nothing, priming itself for Eric’s cock that would never enter it.
“You’ll get one - it’ll just be a ruin.”
“You wouldn’t,” you gasped. “My pussy needs to be filled, Eric, even if it’s just my finger!” You were acutely aware of the fact that you could be seen talking while muted on your Zoom meeting, but your brain was foggy with need and you just didn’t care.
“You’ll take what I give you and nothing more. Do you want a ruin or do you want me to stop right now and leave you like this for the foreseeable future?”
“No, please, Sir - don’t stop!”
“Just keep rubbing your clit, Babygirl. And make sure you tell me when you’re about to cum so I can decide whether or not to let you.”
You seethed, glaring at him through FaceTime in a way that must have seemed insane to your coworkers on the Zoom. You covered your mouth with your free hand as you mumbled, “Eric I’m gonna cum.”
“Ask nicely.”
“Please let me cum, Sir, please!”
“Cum. Now.”
You let out a muffled cry from under your hand, trying to keep your expression neutral as a powerful orgasm tore through you. Your pussy spasmed around nothing, needing a release but you hated that it wasn’t full.
Just as you were about to unmute yourself, the meeting ended and you breathed a sigh of relief, needing a moment to collect yourself.
“Done with your meeting?” Eric smirked knowingly.
“Yes. I need another orgasm so badly. May I have another?”
Eric shook his head. “One ruin for today. We’ll see how you do later, but right now I’ve gotta go pick my veg for dinner tonight. Bye, Babygirl.”
With that, the FaceTime ended along with your workday and you were left to fend for yourself as your brain struggled to regain control.
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bokukawas · 4 years ago
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Drunken Mess
pairing; Kuroo Tetsuro  x Reader
warnings; alcohol, suggestive in the end, some grabbing from some random stranger
a/n; ok guys, enjoy, this took me forever to write and idk, i just hope someone here likes it ♥
summary; when you have a shitty day and then your boyfriend presses all the wrong buttons upon his return , you just need a little alcohol to keep your sanity… and maybe have a drink too much
word count; 6k, I actually planned to keep this short. WELL HUH jokes on me, right? 
The only thing that got you through the day was the thought, that when you came home later, your boyfriend would be back from his training camp with his team. Because, seriously, today had sucked. You had to take a double shift at work, because a colleague had called in sick and all the customers had just been annoying and rude. You had expected working in retail to suck, but compared to the reality your imagination was a fucking dream come true. Retail was the worst. The absolute fucking worst. And no one could truly understand it if they haven’t worked in retail at least once in their life.
By the time you could clock out, you were nearly crying from frustration. You were so eager to see Kuroo and leave your work; you nearly ran the whole way home.
When you finally arrived home, you could already see light seep out from under the door, which meant he actually was home already. Your heart made an involuntarily somersault as you pushed the door open and yelled “I’m home!” with a huge smile plastered on your face. You had missed him terribly. Yet instead of your boyfriends loving arms around you, you just found the mess he somehow managed to produce in less than a day. Your smile slipped just as fast as it had appeared. “Kuroo, what the actual fuck!?” No answer to that.
You could see him, lying on the couch, one leg slung over the back of it, controller in one hand, a piece of pizza in the other, headset on his head, while he cackled. He didn’t even seem to hear you. And damn it stung. You waited the whole day with dinner so you could eat together with your boyfriend. And not only that, you had cleaned the whole house before he returned, so you could just relax together once he was back, hell, you even dumped your friends who wanted to go out and have a girls night, and this was how it turns out?
With watering eyes, you inspected the spectacular mess in front of you. Eyes flicking from the kitchen, where he obviously already made ramen before he ordered pizza, to the living room where the whole content of his sports bag seems to just have been dumped on the floor. Then to the bathroom, where the door was open and showed the still wet tiles and a towel carelessly thrown in the middle of it, fog still clinging to the mirror, because he once again had not opened the goddamn window.
In that moment all you could feel inside of you, was burning anger and huge disappointment. It was not the first time you had asked him to just please be a little bit more considerate of you. Why didn’t he fucking get it? The damn flat didn’t magically clean itself; it was all you who did it. The mess he made in literally only a few hours felt like a punch in the face.
Clenching your fist, you angrily throw your bag into the mess he already made, which seemed to finally get his attention. Head popping up from the couch, he pulled down his headset a bit and looks over to you: “Oh hey kitten, didn’t hear you come home.”
“Yeah never mind”, you spit, “continue your thing there, I’m gonna be gone soon anyways.”
You slip out of your sneakers, phone already in your hand to call one of your friends.
“S’ something wrong, kitten?” Kuroo sets down his headset, mustering you with concern in his eyes. Obviously something was wrong, but his brain still felt foggy with exhaustion from all the training he had pushed himself and his team through this week.
The answer came in the slamming of the bedroom door, where you had disappeared.
He sighs and briefly puts his headset back on to give his friends a heads up: “Guys, I’ll be back later, seems like somethings wrong with Y/N”, then he left the game and stood up, slowly walking to your shared bedroom, before he tentatively knocks on the door.
“Y/n, what’s wrong? Did something happen at work? Are you alright?” Upon not getting an answer, he pushed down the latch, only to find that you had locked the door. He silently swears. It had to be bad when you actually locked him out. “C’mon hun, don’t be like that. Talk to me.” Door rattling followed, which you blatantly ignore.
You were sitting on the bed, which was, of fucking course, not made any more and stripped out of your work clothes, throwing them carelessly on the floor. The damage was already done, what bad could your few clothes be then, right?
It was then, that Miwa finally picked up. “Oh hey, Y/n, whats up? I thought you were having some quality time with Kuroo?” You could hear loud voices talking in the back; she must have gone outside to answer your call.
“Yeah you know what? I thought so, too. Plan has changed, though. Where are you? Mind if I join you? I need a drink.”
“Are you alright, Y/n? You sound a little upset?”
“Miwa, for god’s sake, just tell me where you are so I can join you. I’m going to explode if I stay here any minute longer.”
You could hear Miwa sigh into the phone. “That bad, huh? We’re at our usual place.”
“Good, I’ll be there in twenty.” You hang up and throw your phone into the pillow and start rummaging through your closet, finding one of the dresses you like very much, but never actually wear, because it is actually very short. Well, fuck it, you think to yourself and put it on, together with your new high heels. Quickly freshening up your smudged make-up, you grab your keys and your clutch and brace yourself for your escape. Because that was exactly what you were doing: escaping from this whole mess.
Then, you unlock the door and push it open, marching straight for the door, which was, of course, blocked by your boyfriend, who was leaning against it and now eyeing you from head to toe. He probably had heard you talk to Miwa and taken his position at the door right away. He did not comment on your outfit though, having the good sense to know he was walking on very thin ice.
“Going somewhere?”
“I’m going out with my friends. At least I would like to, but someone is standing in the way. Do you mind?” You look up at him and give him one of your perfect angelic smiles as you try to squeeze through. Even though you were wearing your heels, your boyfriend was a goddamn giant and he somehow managed to still be taller, which was mildly frustrating at the moment.
He does not budge; not even an inch.
“Are we not going to talk about what is going on? Because something clearly is going on.”
“I’d actually rather go right now.”
Kuroo could basically feel the passive aggressive energy radiating from you, but still, he didn’t budge. He didn’t even have the chance to talk to you yet, what could he possibly have done to upset you so much that you could not even stand to be in the same room as him? It was a mystery to him.
“Y/n, please.” He reaches out a hand to brush a thumb against your cheek, because he knows how much you always enjoy these little affectionate gestures, but he stops right in his tracks, when he found you staring at him with barely withhold anger. He was surprised that you did not swat at his still outstretched hand.
“Move Kuroo, I mean it.” And when you try to squeeze through this time, he lets you.
You were rarely in such a bad mood and he knew when he needed to let you cool off, first. As you walk by him, he catches your wrist in the last second, holding you still for a moment. “At least send me a text when you get there, alright?” he whispers while brushing his thumb once over your veins and then lifting your hand up to press a soft kiss against the palm of it.
The urge to just turn around and press your head into your boyfriends’ chest right then was overwhelming, but you were still so mad that you stubbornly continued on your way, leaving Kuroo standing there, watching you go.
When he turns around to go back into the flat, he feels like a train hit him as he takes in the mess he made. “Oh fuck.” He groans as he ruffles his spiky hair, because how could he be so stupid. Of course you would be mad if you came home to such a mess. The worst part was, that he didn’t even contain his chaos in one room, no, he seriously fucked up the whole flat, which by second thought, you had probably cleaned just hours before. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Your foul mood suddenly made sense to him. Groaning again, he closes the door behind him and goes to the kitchen. He better gets rid of this whole mess before you come home later. But first, he wants to apologize. Fishing out his phone out of his joggers, he opens the chat with you and freezes all over again. There it was, black on white. Dinner later, Tetsu? We can order from your fav restaurant if you like ♥
Oh sweet fucking hell, he was the biggest douche in the whole wide world. How could he forget that you two wanted to eat together? “Ah shit.”
He types out a quick message to you. Y/n I’m so sorry. I’m the biggest idiot in the world. You can punch me later if you still feel like it. I sure as hell deserve it. Pls text me when you get there safely. I love you.
Kuroo really wants to kick his own ass in that moment. You were always so good to him, going out of your way to make the time you got to spend together as pleasurable as possible, taking time where you actually had none to spare and just simply spoiling him in any way possible and this was how he treated you? He didn’t even kiss you when you got home, which was funny, because it was one of the only thoughts in his head, besides volleyball this whole past week. The feeling of your soft lips against his.
He was not surprised that he didn’t get a message back, but he still unmuted his phone, just in case you called him when you had enough and wanted to go home.
Then he starts cleaning up his mess.
You on the other hand nearly arrived at the bar where you and your friends usually met up once a month to keep in touch. You already regretted wearing your new heels. As you turned the next corner, you could already spot the bar and with it, a whole lot of people standing outside at high tables. Your friends amongst one of them.
“Hey ladies”, you call out as you get closer. “Long time no see.”
Fighting a smile to your face, you found your place right next to Miwa, who gently nudges you in the side.
“Stop that grimace and tell us what happened.”
Alisa, who was standing in front of you, just reaches over the table, takes your hand in hers and squeezes it softly.
“Actually, I think I’d rather have a drink first”, you moan.
One drink followed the next and your friends realized later, that they probably should have stopped you after your 5th cocktail or so. Which they didn’t, because you spilled your heart out to them, nearly crying a few times, which was rare to see, because usually you managed to keep your cool in front of others, even your own friends. Moreover, the drink in your hand seemed to be the only thing holding you together. They were a little taken aback, too, because you usually were a very good drinker, and could handle alcohol very well; but by the time you went inside to dance and just bumped into stranger after stranger while trying to walk a straight line, they figured you probably had not eaten anything before coming here.
Miwa squinched up her face. “She’s gonna feel even worse tomorrow. We should probably get her home.”
Alisa just nods, before sprinting in your direction as she witnessed you tumbling into a group of men, of which one luckily caught you in his arms, before you hit the floor, but then couldn’t keep his hands to himself. You just laughed, not realizing what was going on and not feeling the hand, currently sneaking up your leg. Everything looked dizzy and swayed and you felt a little funny in the head. Vaguely you realize that Alisa was arguing with the man who stopped your fall and then her face popped up in front of you, asking you were your phone was.
You look at her irritated, not quite understanding what she wanted.
“C’mon y/n, where is your goddamn phone.”
“My clutch?”
Miwa suddenly popped up next to you, steadying you and gently guiding you to an abandoned empty chair. “Sit.”
Alisa rummaged through your clutch, only to find your purse and your house keys…but no phone.
“Your phone is not in here y/n. Are you sure it was in your clutch?” she looks at you questioningly, with her big green eyes, which were all you could focus on. She always looks so pretty.
„Focus y/n!“
You thought back to when you left the flat… “I think I …left it on the bed”, you mumble, eyes suddenly growing very heavy. Leaning heavily against Miwa, your head lolls against her shoulder. You inhale deeply. Miwa always managed to smell so good; you wonder how she does it. The girls just shared a concerned look. You couldn’t even sit upright on that damn chair, how were they supposed to get you home.
“We need to call Kuroo”, Miwa states, while brushing some strands of hair out of your face. You didn’t seem to notice.
“That was my plan. But I don’t have his number… do you?” Miwas face was answer enough. That’s when Saeko popped up next to them. “Hey girls, I made it after all.” She grinned happily at all of you. “What’s wrong with this one here, though?” She nudges you in the side, which was rewarded with a lazy grunt from you and a silent curse from Miwa as you tipped dangerously to the side.
“Is she drunk!? I don’t think I’ve ever seen her drunk. What happened?” Saeko seemed mildly concerned, which leads to Miwa and Alisa freaking out a little. Saeko usually doesn’t show concern, so it must be just as bad as they imagined.
“Do you have Kuroos number?” Alisa asked her without answering her question in return, not letting her eyes stray from your face, as you looked ghostly white at the moment and started mumbling random things under your breath.
“No? But you have? Right?”
They both shake their heads. Saeko sighs and mumbles something under her breath, which rather sounded, like ‘I should’ve just gone straight home’, before facing Alisa.
“Call your brother then. He must have his number.”
“Oh my god, Saeko you are a genius.”
“Thanks, I know.”
With another concerned look your way, Alisa left your side to go outside and call her brother. She just hoped he would pick up, since it was already the middle of the night.
Meanwhile Kuroo was sitting on the couch, worriedly glancing at the clock all few seconds and constantly brushing his fingers through his hair. No wonder you hadn’t texted him back, he had found your phone lying on his pillow as he had made the bed again. This meant, you were out, with no phone and no means to contact him if something was wrong. He didn’t like that one bit. The worst part was that he couldn’t even blame someone for it, besides himself. This was his fault and he knew it all too well. Scratching at his scalp, he tried to calm down a bit. He knew you could take care of yourself; your small figure belied the strength you actually had, but still. There was always a chance that something happened. So when his phone started ringing he answered it in seconds, without even looking who was calling first. It just had to be you, right?
“Y/n?” he nearly yelped in the phone.
“No, this is Lev.”
Kuroo nearly lost it then, breathing heavily and punching the pillow right next to him, he thought he was going to combust any second.
“What is it Lev? It’s the middle of the night!”
“Yeah, I know, I was sleeping until my sister called me.” Now that he mentioned it, Kuroo could hear the slight strain in Levs voice, as if he had just gotten up.
“It’s about y/n, though. They are worried and would like you to come and pick her up. Apparently she didn’t have her phone with her and got stupidly drunk.” He paused. “…did you have a fight? Are you alright?”
Kuroo swallowed.
“Just tell me where they are, please.” And so Lev does.
“Tell your sister I’ll be there soon… and thank you, Lev. Sorry that you got involved in this.”
“Yeah, yeah. G’night.” with that, he just hung up on Kuroo, probably eager to get into bed again. Kuroo couldn’t even blame him for that, he was tired, too, but he swore he wouldn’t go to bed before you got home safely.
He gets up, just grabs his wallet, keys and his sweater and was out the door in seconds, running all the way to the bar. Never before had it been so bad, that your friends were concerned about you. You had always gotten home on your own, or were sober enough to just give him a call, or get a taxi. Your alcohol tolerance was quite high, too, but alas, you hadn’t eaten today. That was probably the problem.
Alisa spotted him from afar and just starts waving. She was impressed at how fast he was, it hadn’t even been 10 minutes since the call. When she saw him up close though, she realized that he was sweating and breathing hard. He must have run the whole way here.
“Jeez, Kuroo you look like you might pass out any second.”
“Thanks, it’s nice to see you, too Alisa. Now, where is she?”
He didn’t even look Alisa in the face, his eyes scanning the crowd around them, searching for your face.
“Inside. C’mon.”
He follows her tall blonde form through the masses, until she stops in front of a chair. An empty chair. He could barely hear her curse under her breath.
Kuroos head snaps up, when he could hear a commotion start on the dance floor.
There you were, the hands of some random stranger draped across you, while you danced as if you didn’t even notice. Which of course, you didn’t. Not really. You just enjoyed the lights and the music and silently swayed to the rhythm of it, being a little surprised that the world suddenly didn’t seem so shaky anymore. Your back felt warm, too, which was at the same time pleasant and very unpleasant at once. Something somehow felt wrong, but you couldn’t pinpoint what it was. You were just happy that you somehow managed to get yourself drunken enough, to stop thinking about how little your boyfriend seemed to care about you.
Kuroos eyes wander to the two females next to you, desperately trying to pry the hands off that damn stranger of your dancing form, but they were both so small compared to the guy, it was useless.
He lost it the moment said stranger seemed to thrust his hips into your back. Miwa and Saeko spotted him just the second he lunged at the person, shoving him away.
“Get your filthy hands off of my girlfriend!”
The guy of course didn’t like being handled that way and was in Kuroos face the very next instance. “What’s your problem man? It didn’t seem to me that she didn’t like it.”
Miwa winced. She had seen Kuroo lose his cool once before, and it hadn’t ended very well for the other dude. He had him up by his collar at once, sneering in his face “she’s so drunk she probably doesn’t even remember her own name and you want to tell me she liked it?” He shook the stranger, muscles flexing under his T-Shirt.  “Get the fuck out of my eyes.”
With that, he shoves him so hard that the guy loses his balance and falls face down onto the dance floor.
Your world had become very wobbly again, as soon as the somewhat steadying hands had left your hips. Tumbling to the side, you were caught in strong arms again. Your boyfriend’s arms.
“C’mon kitten, we’re going.”
“Wha-? Kuroo?” Were you hallucinating now? “No I don’t want to go. I want to dance.” You wind your way out of his arms, only to stagger once again.
Kuroo exhales once again and tries to pull himself together, looking at your friends who all watch you with deep worry in their eyes. “How much exactly did she drink?”
Alisa nervously twirls her hair around her finger, not wanting to look him in the eyes. Your boyfriend could be scary, especially if he was worried about you. “Don’t know… I kinda lost count after her 5th cocktail or so… she might have had some drinks on the dance floor, too.”
Kuroo breathes in deeply, watching you as you tried to dance, which was actually just staggering from one side to the other, trying not to fall on your face. He was low key impressed that you had not already broken your ankles in those heels. Trying to remain calm and reminding himself that in fact, this was his fault and he couldn’t get angry with anybody else, he sighs again, starts fumbling in his pocket to get his wallet out and pushes some money in Alisas hand.
“Here, for her drinks. I’m pretty sure she didn’t pay for them herself, did she? Well, never mind. We are going now. Thanks for reaching out to me.”
And with that, he appears next to you again, draping his sweater around your hips to keep your very short dress from flashing anyone, before crouching down and just throwing you over his shoulder.
“Hey, what the hell!? KUROO! Put me down, I don’t want to go!” you slur, as he starts to push his way through the crowd.
“Good thing I’m not asking then.”
Your friends watch as your boyfriend singlehandedly maneuvers you two outside, sighing in unison as you leave the club.
“Wow. That was intense”, Saeko deadpans.
Miwa nods. “He was so calm, though? The last time I saw someone touch y/n with Kuroo around, the guy had a broken nose afterwards. I was a little scared for a second there.”
“He must have been really worried. Lev told me he seemed really agitated, which is rare for him. He’s usually very composed.”
They sigh in unison again. “We better call her tomorrow and ask if she’s alright”, Miwa states, to which the others all nod. Saeko starts grinning a moment later. “I’m pretty sure Kuroo is gonna take good care of her now, so let’s not worry. The night is still young.” She throws her arms around the waists of her friends and pulls them all in direction of the dance floor.
 Meanwhile your world shakes violently with every step your boyfriend makes and your hair was jumping in tact with it. His shoulder blade pressed very uncomfortably into your stomach. You could feel the warmth radiating from his hand at the back of your knee, where he gripped you softly to keep you steady.
You hadn’t spoken to him since he had thrown you over his shoulder and just marched out of the bar. In fact, you felt a little ashamed. It had been years since you had gotten so drunk you could barely stand. It was a mystery to you, how he even knew where you were.
Another step, another bounce, another uncomfortable press against your roaring stomach. You clutch your hands into the hem of Kuroos shirt, trying to steady yourself a bit, inhaling his familiar smell and focusing on that, instead of the turmoil in your stomach and your head.
Kuroo of course feels you clench fistfuls of his shirt and slows down a bit, throwing a glance over his shoulder. “Kitten, you alright there?”
The fresh air had sobered you up quite a bit and you were fully aware of the gentle grip your boyfriend had on you, same as the every so often brush of his thumb across your thigh.
Since you didn’t answer, he just presses a quick kiss to your leg and then continues on his way, a little more slowly, but still persistent. You groan, as the nauseous feeling in your stomach got overwhelming. Not only that, but you could also feel your feet burning and hurting. Those heels were really not the best choice for tonight.
“Y/n?” he stops once more and tries to look over his shoulder again.
“First of all Kuroo, I’m still mad at you, secondly I feel like I might puke any minute if your shoulder is gonna press in my stomach again and last of all, my feet hurt.”
It occurred to you that you were whining, but how could you not? Today has been hell and now everything hurts and you couldn’t even just press your head into your boyfriends’ chest because you were supposed to be mad at him.
“Hold on a sec, hun.”
“I mean it Tetsu, I’m gonna puke.”
Kuroo smiles at that, not because it was fun to him that you had so much to drink that you felt like puking, but because you used his first name…which in conclusion meant you weren’t in fact as mad as you tried to be.
He could already see his target at the end of the street, so he just ignored you and walks on a few minutes longer.
“Ok, I’m going to put you down now, be ready.”
He slowly lets you slide down on his front, so that you were now standing in front of him. His hands were on your hips, steadying you slightly in case you still needed it. You wince as your feet hit the ground, your heels pressing against every sore spot on them. Kuroo could tell you were avoiding looking in his face, even though he stood right in front of you.
Sighing, he puts his slender index finger under your chin and lifts your head up, so you had no choice but to look at him. “I’m sorry Y/n, I was a total dick earlier and I didn’t even realize it. But for now, can we ignore that so that I can take care of you properly? Please?”
Damn it, it wasn’t fair. As you look into his catlike, earnest eyes, so full of love and concern for you, you could already feel your anger melt away. “You’re the worst, Tetsu.” Your words significance was betrayed by the fact that you leaned your head against his shoulder the exact same instance and inhaled deeply. He chuckles deeply at that and presses a soft kiss against your neck, holding you a little while longer.
“Sit down here for a bit kitten, I will be right back.” He guides you to a bench right in front of the 24/7 he had aimed for, noticing you were still very unsteady on your feet and actually limping now. After you sat down, he squats down in front of you and takes your foot in his hands. “Let me see.” He slowly peels off your shoes and inhales sharply through his teeth. “Damn hun, you really butchered your feet.” You decided you didn’t even want to see it and just wriggled your toes at the new found freedom.
“Yeah, I’ll be right back”, and with that he rushes into the store behind you.
After a few minutes, you feel something cold against your cheek. “Here, drink.”
You take the bottle of water out of his hands, suddenly feeling very thirsty and drink a few mouthfuls, as he squats down in front of you again, inspecting your feet once more, before applying patches at the worst spots. When he was finished, he just looks up at your exhausted form in front of him, bracing his hands on your knees, his thumbs already drawing gentle patterns across your skin. It seemed cold to you suddenly and you shiver, which leads to Kuroo taking off the sweater he had put around your waist and pulling it over your head.
“C’mon, let’s get you home.” He grabs your shoes, and turns around, squatting again in front of you, his back muscles flexing under the shirt as he motions for you to get on. With a sigh you did exactly that. No way in hell would you walk the next 10 minutes home on your own two feet. You put your arms around his neck and try a weak little jump to get on his back, which was rewarded with an amused chuckle by your boyfriend. Luckily, he caught your legs just fine and adjusted you on his back with a little wiggle, so that he now could give you a proper piggyback ride home.
“Y/n?” he asks as you got closer and closer to your home, already walking up the stairs to your shared flat.
“Hm?”
“I love you.”                            
Ah damn that bastard really knew how to play you. Even though you could feel your insides warm up at that, you thought he could feel bad a little more, so you didn’t comment on it, as he puts the key in the locker and opens the door.
The moment he switched the light on, though, you couldn’t hold back anymore.
“Ah fuck Tetsu, I love you, too. Asshole.” That made him laugh in return. It seems like he had cleaned the whole flat after you rushed out to drink yourself stupid.
“I realized why you were so mad the moment I turned around to go back in here”, he confesses and slowly lets you down from his back. “And as I said before, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I was a total douchebag.” He comes to stand in front of you and puts your face into his hands. “Can you forgive this asshole?”
You punch his chest in return. “Stop being cute!”
“Can you forgive me? Pleaseee?”
He actually pouts as he squishes your cheeks, already knowing he had won. You tried to fight the smile that wanted to spread on your face at the ridiculous show of your huge boyfriend pouting in front of you, but you fail miserably.
“Just kiss me already, idiot.”
So he did, his one hand sliding from your cheek to your neck, as his lips press against yours in a feather light touch. Your own hand finds its way into his hair at once, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss, as the other steadies you against his hips. He sighs contentedly in the kiss, brushing his lips against yours as he mumbles “I missed you so much”, before kissing you again, this time a little more hungrily. Your lips move eagerly against each other and after a little while, you feel his tongue grace against your lips, which makes you shudder. Your knees started feeling dangerously wobbly again. Luckily, he had already pulled you flush against him and now lifted you up by putting his hands under your ass to carry you to the bedroom, where he gently lays you down on the bed, before slowly climbing on top of you.
You smile fondly at his expression as he kisses you repeatedly, every kiss getting a little rougher than the last one, moving your lips in time with his and then there was his tongue, finally in your mouth. He could still taste the alcohol on your lips.
When he finally breaks away from you, you were both panting. Your hands were gripping his shirt greedily and you were already pulling him down on you again, wanting more. God his kisses gave you life.
“I’m not sure we should go there today, kitten, as much as I’d like to. You’re still very much drunk, and I’d like you to feel and remember all of what I plan to do to you.”
He smirks and plants another kiss on your lips, teeth grazing teasingly against them as he did so, then snorting at the bewildered and somewhat outraged look you gave him when he pulled away. You were clawing at his biceps the moment he starts to get up from you, trying to pull him down again and groaning when you realized you were going to lose against his strength.
“Tetsuro”, you moaned in a last attempt to get him back to you, which made him freeze on the spot. “Wow you’re mean, kitten, but still no.”
And with that, he simply helps you get out of his sweater and your dress, always swatting your grabbing hands away, before he manhandles you into the bathroom to get you ready for bed.
You were getting pissed at him again, because first, he got you hot and bothered and then he didn’t want to do something about it. How rude. That would get him payback, you swore to yourself.
Still, not even your naked form had him thinking twice about his choice, he simply wrangles one of his tees over your head and pulls you flush against him in your shared bed, having a death grip on you, so you couldn’t even move around, as much as you tried.
“Sleep now kitten, and then maybe tomorrow I’ll give you what you want so desperately right now.”
He runs a hand down your side teasingly and you could feel his smile against your forehead at the way your body quivers against him.
“On second thought, I think I’m not able to forgive you yet, you are actually the worst”, you mumble against his chest. He only acknowledges this with another kiss against your forehead. Still, somehow your boyfriend had made the right call, because it only took you seconds to fall asleep in his warm embrace. 
He watches your sleeping form on his chest fondly, pressing little kisses to your face from time to time and thinking to himself, that he deserves a price for self-control, because he seriously had not wanted to restrain himself at all.
Groaning, he presses another kiss to your face as he sleepily mumbles, “I love you, Y/n.” before squishing you even more against his chest. This was what he had longed for all week after all, he thought to himself, as he tried to ignore the bulge in his pants. This was going to be an extremely long and very torturous night for him… he just hopes he would fall asleep just as fast as you did. Morning could not come fast enough…
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rebuiltbionicle · 5 years ago
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Sapient Rahi Redux
The Rahi are intended as simple simulacra on animals, though its in entirely possible to build them as sapient beings with an intellect on the level of the Matoran and other such beings. All Rahi, just as all animals do, have thoughts and feelings, and Rahi takes this a step further as all of them can communicate their knowledge through programming language, though there is a distinct boundary between increasingly sophisticated programming and true ability to think; the same boundary that was crossed with the sapient maintenance units in the Awakening.
The exact list is foggy. One species was created by the Great Beings and four more intentionally created by the Makuta. Several more came about by unintentional means, and the exact boundary between sophisticated programming and true sapience made very difficult to define.
Givokre: A species of giants predating all other sapient Rahi, constructed by the Great Beings themselves. They were humanoid like the Matoran, though eighteen feet tall, cyclopean, and clad uniformly in yellow armour. The Givomen were created as a demonstration to Makuta Miserix about the limits of what he and his brethren could create. These giants lived in relative obscurity in the southern lands noticed only by the wide spreading Barraki and Matoran migrants, with whom they cooperated and traded with. Their isolation led to a life of prosperity away from the major disasters of the universe, but unfortunately meant that very few noticed their destruction by the Visorak. The only known unmutated survivor was the legendary Keetongu, who wishes to rebuild his people on Spherus Magna.
Lereran: A species created by Makuta Suddixa. The Lereran are a serpentine species that slither for locomotion, though they still have a humanoid torso and arms to interact with the world. The back of their torso has a structure like a cobra’s hood. The species was introduced to a few islands in the western chain. They weren’t properly introduced to Matoran society, so despite their intelligence they initially viewed the Matoran and other sapients as just other beasts. The Lereran were unfortunately raised into a warrior culture (Suddixa was pals with the likes of Icarax and Antroz) and decided that Matoran were something to hunt. This instigated a response from the Toa who tried to drive them off. The Lereran retreated on hastily built vessels. The Toa were intrigued by the construction of these vessels and realised they were sapient beings. The Lereran continued ship building and became quite proficient at it, turning into a species of seafaring nomads. Many remained as hunters and raiders, though others were reached out to by the Matoran who realised their nature and set up normal relations and trade agreements, slowly integrating the Lereran into society at large.
Sthalu: An aquatic species created by Makuta Uqueren. A simplistic design; essentially sharks given arms and hands, with a modified torso to accommodate them. It was this simplified design that won its approval by Makuta Miserix whereas so many other sapient designs were rejected. A population of Sthalu was introduced to the sea of Destral’s dome and allowed to proliferate from there. They began as small tribes living close to nature, nearly indistinguishable from bestial Rahi to surfacers apart from their tool use. To underwater societies, however, they were a different issue. Aquatic civilisation quickly saw how the Sthalu were their intellectual equals and began to trade and generally exchange culture with them. Many Sthalu permanently settled with the other aquatic species, and were well integrated into the undersea civilisations.
Tavaka: An insectoid species created by Makuta Bitil. Centauroid in form, the Tavaka were poorly distinguished by the universe at large from bestial rahi. They lived a simple close-to-nature life in the wildernesses of the universe, and their intellect only known and respected by those that were willing to trade with them. The Tavaka preferred to live in small tribes, like Matoran villages, but nomadic with no permanent settlements. Some were intrigued by the more technological societies outside their tribes and left to explore the world around them. The Dark Hunter “Primal” was a Tavaka.
Visorak: A species of warlike spiders created by Makuta Chirox. The Visorak were never intended as a civilisation of their own, but as an army for the Brotherhood. Their sapience was hoped to make them better at battle tactics and thus better soldiers than the Brotherhood’s usual war Rahi. The success was ambiguous; they were certainly an effective fighting force, but also far more rebellious and often more trouble than they were worth. Their programmed predetermination towards violence has raised ethical debates about how to handle them.
Frost Beetle: An unintentionally sapient species on part of the Makuta. They were created by Makuta Salaphon simply as a large beetle at home in cold climates, and in the bulk of the universe this was exactly what they were. In Metru Nui however they became far more intelligent, theoretically due to the effects of consuming memory crystals and absorbing their knowledge, though this implies their brains already had the capacity to understand and process that information. These beetles set up hives in Ko-Metru, which has since migrated to Spherus Magna, living in obscure hives in the Northern Frost.
Krahka: The Krahka are bizarre for more than just their intelligence. They were created by Makuta Tridax and Mutran in collaboration. The Krahka were a species of shapeshifters, capable of assuming any form perfectly, including powers and even some knowledge. This is how they achieved sapience: by shapeshifting into sapient forms. This caused them to lose their sapience several times as they shifted out of those forms. They were exterminated by the Visorak before they could achieve anything permanent, though the only known survivor has learned to keep her brain in the same shape to maintain intelligence.
Individuals: Throughout various means an individual Rahi could come into possession of sapience. The Makuta often created individual models for various roles, or sometimes by accident. Someone with mutation powers could manually create one, or one could come about by accident with Energised Protodermis.
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theevangelion · 6 years ago
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THE NEED: SUPERCORP HALF-CHAPTER
Alpha Lena/Omega Kara — Kara has just had a baby and their first heat postpartum is coming fast and hot. Creative problems require creative solutions for the couple, and Lena is anything but gentle with her woman of steel. (Anal, lactation, knotting, biting.)
The sun was high in the sky and dazzling the road, and the highway was inundated with people. The traffic pulled slowly, chugging for a bit, then stalling to a halt. It would be like this for at least seven miles if the woman on the radio announcing the collision ahead was to be trusted. The passengers in the rear cab of the sleek town car had plenty to do to fill the time. There were phone screens in hand, computers on laps, communications and official statements underway. The boss just sighed and stared out of the window, flustered and only growing all the more flustered by the state of things.
“Cancelled your four o’clock,” Jeanie peered over her seat and handed a tablet with something on the screen that needed a digital signature. “The press team is asking if you want to make a personal statement to reporters this evening or if they should quietly release the news on the website?”
“You know, my brother once said there was no such thing as bad press.” Lena forced a small smile as she signed the screen and passed it back. “But now that L-Corp stock is plummeting, I’m inclined to disagree.”
“It will blow over,” the analyst sat in the front seat spoke up, she took the tablet from Jeanie and sighed. “I’m running the numbers and the share price is already starting to plateau. Most of the damage was the Russians short-selling the majority of their stock. Luckily, an investor just bought a billion dollars worth of L-Corp shares. The market price is stabilising.”
“Who was it?” Lena furrowed her brow.
“You.” The analyst smiled and turned the tablet back around. “Thanks for your signature.”
The headache intensified with immediacy. Lena reached up and rubbed where her temples and prestinely tied back hair met, inhaling deeply. This broke at least three financial trading regulations that she could think of off the top of her head, and to compound the stress, her brother and mother had managed to release a joint-manifesto from their separate top security prisons outlining their political ambitions upon release. On top of all of that Lena was coming into rut, which meant Kara was coming into heat, alone, in pain, and with a newborn to take care of for good measure.
The inability to make any of it instantaneously better was infuriating.
“Lena, urgent call for you.” Jeanie reached over the headrest again to pass the phone to the grumbler.
Lena dismissively waved her hand and peered out the window in thought. “Tell them I’m too busy.” Today was not a good day to be the CEO, although there were rarely good days if truth be told. Manageable was at the top end of the mean average.
Jeanie pulled a face. “Far be it from me to tell you what to do… but I really think you’re going to want to take this call…”
Lena rolled her eyes and snatched the phone, bristling and immediately suspicious that one of her immediate relatives had obtained a satellite phone purely to gloat. She brought the phone to her ear and her voice became tight.
“This better be damn important—”
“Your daughter is smiling.” Kara interrupted the bad mood with abundant chirpiness. “Are you smiling, little girl? Are you smiling for Momma?” She singsonged at their tiny one.
“Oh goodness!” Lena relaxed instantaneously and juggled the phone between her ear and shoulder, lifting the lid of her laptop so the inevitable pictures in their iMessage conversation could be cooed over. “Is it a big smile or a little smile?” She grinned in anticipation, clicking and scrolling.
“A big one, she’s in a good mood. I saw the news bulletin and I thought you might need a pick-me-up.”
“Yeah, about that.” Lena closed her eyes and sighed. “Apparently there’s at least one mole in the lab. How Lilian received copies of the research I’m still not sure but she knows L-Corp has the power to chemically suspend non-human abilities and it’s splashed all over every screen I’m looking at. Just in case you haven’t unmuted the news, there’s your recap of my day.”
“The news was unmuted,” Kara assured.
“It wasn’t the way I wanted the public to find out, to say the least.”
“Well, you’re a genius and people were bound to find that out sooner rather than later.” Kara remained a force of calm. “The technology has the potential to do lots of good. Just look at us, at little Ellis. You’re going to save and change lives with it.”
“The Alien Rights Coalition doesn’t see it that way.” Lena worried to the only person she felt capable of talking her worries through with. “They’re saying it’s the first step towards a genetic holocaust and I don’t think my last name helps matters...” The headache intensified.
“The technology could be dubious in the wrong hands, but—luckily for all of us—it’s in yours. And your application of the technology will help alien moms have full-term pregnancies, Lena!” Kara trailed with the sheer amazement of it. “Sunlight makes my body invulnerable to change, Ellis never would have been able to grow to full-term if you didn’t figure out a way to suspend my powers, just for a little while.” She heard Kara smile. “Thank you for that by the way, our little girl is the best gift you’ve ever given me and that’s taking into account the signed Spice Girls world tour poster you got me for my birthday.”
“Well thank you for giving her to me, too.” Lena smiled.
“So, in other news.” There was a small, thoughtful pause. “I’m getting moody which means I might need the chickento come home to roostsooner rather than later… I know you’re having a terrible day but maybe that’s all the more reason for you to sneak home early?” It was said with an air of optimism.
“Is that codeword for what I think it’s codeword for?”
“Leen, I don’t want to talk about what we do in the bedroom in front of our sweet, innocent, adorable, tiny little—”
“Understood.” Lena cleared her throat and shifted her eyes toward the staffers who were pretending not to eavesdrop. The Alpha rubbed her temple and looked up with pursed crimson lips, sighing and a little foggy from the current warfare of her own hormones. “I don’t know if we’re ready for that yet. You remember what the doctors said, Baby…” If the doctors weren’t direct enough about the whole thing, the stitches that were still holding things together down there were pretty clear on the matter. “I can take a suppressant?” Lena offered as an afterthought.
“I don’t want you to take a suppressant.”
“The nausea only lasts for an hour, I don’t mind.” Lena reasoned, tucking the phone deeper between her chin and shoulder as the forward motion of the car picked up with a bit more consistency.
“I don’twant you to take a suppressant.” Kara emphasised it, her voice low and stern, her intention to make the big boss shut up and listen successful in execution. “It’s our first cycle since my body has been mine again and I want us to enjoy it. Can this be our good thing that we look forward to today? Please?”
The big boss did need a good thing to look forward to.
“Let me think about it?” Lena waned slightly.
“Love you, honey.” Kara’s voice scaled upwards again back into the happy range, crisis averted. “You love Momma too, little girl? You wanna say bye to Momma?” Lena smiled at the way Kara sounded when she cooed.
“Give her a kiss from me, I love you too.” Lena smiled and ended the call.
Confused and slightly horny, Lena followed through on her word. The journey back to the National City, the brief jaunt from the car up the steps of the L-Corp building, dodging photographers and thrusted out microphones the entire short distance, all the way up to the top floor executive suite where a roundtable of important stakeholders was already underway, the only thing Lena found time to muse on was what making love to her wife sans pregnancy would look like. From a logistical standpoint, difficult and bumpy with newness considering Kara was still healing and rendered chemically human. From a personal standpoint, exciting and all the more delicious because of it.
“Lena?” The chief economist, Charles, cleared his throat midway through the presentation. “Are you following?” His eyes darted back to the forecast charts on the board.
The boss realised, despite her best efforts, that she was not presently a boss at all. She was a lovesick teenager, chewing the lid of her pen, tapping her Louboutin heel incessantly against the floor, thinking more about the newness of her wife’s changed body than the pressing matter of the PR shitstorm that could unseat her executive position before sundown. Lena swallowed and inhaled sharply, glancing at the forecast points, her quick mind for numbers doing the rest.
“I’m following, I’m just not trusting the current predictions.”
“You don’t?” Charles scoffed a bit. “Lena you headhunted me straight out of Washington because I’m very good at what I do.”
Lena smiled slightly and lifted her brow. “I remember,” she agreed.
“Then I would love to know where your concern stems from?” His hand found his hip.
“The data is still so new that we won’t be able to tell between the qualitative and anomalous points for a while yet.” Lena shrugged and pulled it out of her ass. “It feels reductive basing an economic forecast for the next two years mostly on twelve hours worth of events.”
“The numbers don’t lie,” Charles insisted.
“You’re right and they don’t, but people do. The Russians dumped their stock to destabilise our market position, every news outlet from here to Al Jazeera is running with nothing but rumour-fuel about our corporate direction, and I know it feels safer to sit in this room and worry over numbers from last year, over what numbers might look like next year, but there is a blazing inferno outside and we’re the firefighters who need to put it out.” The chief reclaimed her air of authority. “I think we should move the product launch up to Monday and get out ahead of this thing. Thoughts?”
Charles sighed and nodded a bit. “Getting out ahead might work… with a delicate hand.”
“You don’t think I should take up too much spotlight?” Lena became hopeful that it might give her some spare time to get other things done.
The Head of PR chipped in, a decisive expression only growing all the more fervent as she considered things. “I think getting an alien face out there to talk on the moral and ethical points of the technology presents a better opportunity to turn this around.”
“I agree.” Lena nodded and tried not to seem too pleased. “There’s at least a hundred reporters outside hoping to catch a glimpse of me. It might be best if I go home for the weekend and stay out of the way. I don’t think footage of me declining comment for the next few days is going to score any points.”
“It’s your call, nobody wants to force you out of the picture.” Jeanie reassured.
“I can work from home. The world is tired of Luthors, let’s give them a few days respite.” Lena nodded decisively.
If the world anticipated one thing it was that the ever-manicured, coiffed, pristinely dressed, most powerful woman in National City, would not be making a quick get away from the underground garage in a dinged Honda Accord. The baseball cap and sunglasses helped matters, Lena was certain of it as she pulled onto the freeway without the slightest hint of a pursuit.
The office had been left in a strange sense of coordinated mayhem, the staffers aware of what needed doing, the interns darting out on a coffee run for what was about to be the latest all-nighter in L-Corp history, the executives all bustling in and out of meeting rooms ready to demonstrate their weight in salt. It was a sight that didn’t leave Lena with much concern at all, frankly, the opposite was true. And the intern who bore the most resemblance to her, new and fresh out of engineering school with the tuition loans to show for it, was more than happy to switch clothes to aid the escape plan and get a new dress and a pair of Louboutins out of the deal.
Lena couldn’t remember the last time she wore jeans and a plain cotton t-shirt, but the lack of Spanx was doing wonders for her personal comfort. She shifted in her seat and cranked down the window, another first for a long time, and the cool breeze helped soothe the slick sheen of sweat that formed over her skin. Lena turned up the radio and drove like a bat out of Hell down the freeway.
The phone rang.
“Well hello, love of my life.” Lena tucked it between her shoulder and jaw, a slackened grin forming in the corners of her mouth. “You need me to pick something up?”
“You see the seatbelt next to you?” Kara’s tone was stern.
“I do?” The grin tapered.
“That. Use it please.”
“I am?” It was a white lie, her body was starting to sting a bit.
“I’m watching you on Fox 61. No, you’re not.”
“What do you—” Lena stopped and looked out the window. She sighed and cursed beneath her breath. “Ah, the news helicopter. Well… that’s certainly an unanticipated development.” She winced.
“If I could fly more than six feet I would come and pick you up,” Kara almost apologised for it. “Your driving leaves a lot to be desired.”
“Mhm,” Lena couldn’t help but chuckle slightly. “I guess it’s been a while. Who knew Shayla drove stick?” Her eyebrows wiggled in amusement.
“I’m glad you’re coming home early.” She could almost hear Kara biting her lip. “I was worried you might leave me here all alone… finding creative ways to fill the time…”
“Ellis?” Lena swallowed, hard.
“She just went down. I’d say we’ve got a few hours, maybe three if you’re lucky… she didn’t nap this afternoon.”
“I’ll be home soon.” Lena instinctively put her foot on the accelerator.
“The seatbelt, use it.”
She did well to hide how ravenous she felt, did well to hide the frustration that came with not having the vocabulary to describe those feelings. There was something delicious about bruises, the way they ached but not in an entirely unpleasant way, the way they ached but slightly tingled too, as if to remind her how precious and fragile this body was for the time being.
There was one earned from bumping her elbow against the cabinet a few short days ago, and Kara couldn’t help but press it with more frequency as her heat drew in thicker. That, plus the scratch on the back of her hand. She rubbed her thumb against the change in texture, over the thin jaggedness of it, over the state that had never existed prior to nine months ago. According to the Lena she had another few more months of this before things returned to normal. Kara was determined to make the most of each lovely moment it.
The tiny one was asleep upstairs, producing nothing but breathy snores and the occasional deep, sleepy furrow of her brow on the baby monitor as if she were dreaming of only the most important things. She got it from the other mother, Kara was full of nothing but fondness over the thought.
The interim between watching Lena drive home on the news network and Lena making her arrival was spent busying herself with a need for distraction, preening and checking for any baby spit she might have missed since showering, lighting candles, blowing the candles out incase it was too much, double-checking on their baby no less than once every ten minutes. A helicopter parent she would become yet, no doubt in anyone’s mind.
When the two succinct beeps signalled the gates at the bottom of the property were opening, Kara darted inside the powder room and checked herself over one last time. The slight sallow beneath her eyes made her look tired, but it wasn’t a sight that made her feel less any beautiful. There was something worth cherishing about these fleeting days of fragility, something worth enjoying because it gave contrast to her life. She tucked her curled blonde hair behind her ears and wiped away the tiny gleam of sweat from the apples of her cheeks. An anticipatory smile turned into a beaming grin as car wheels crunched over the white pebbled drive outside, announcing the clever one’s arrival.
It wasn't that the sex was terrible during the second and third trimester, it was just different, it was just soft, half-hearted, careful, thrumming with fear on Lena’s part that she would do something to hurt one of them. To compound the difficultness of it, as Kara’s body changed with pregnancy, becoming something that was both powerful and fragile, her desires shifted too; she yearned for bruises and bitemarks and other tiny precious wounds that Lena would have shrivelled into dust over had she merely heard a whispering of it. Kara inhaled deeply as she walked back into the living room, hopeful that today would be different, hopeful that today would be full of wonderful discoveries.
It was a sunny day outside. The bay windows were almost blinding to look at from the refraction of light. Kara looked out to the front drive with narrowed eyes and didn’t recognise her for a moment. She watched Lena clamber out of the rusty Accord, utterly gobsmacked once she realised the big boss was dressed down. And she was. She was completely dressed down. And not in the Lena Luthor definition of the phrase either; which roughly meant swapping a tailored suit and Prada heels for tailored slacks and leather loafers — an outfit choice that she insisted for the entire fourteen hour duration of the home water birth was homely, dressed down attire. This, the woman outside in a baseball cap, pushing sunglasses up her nose, pushing up the sleeve of her loose t-shirt up her bicep as she grabbed things out of the trunk, was a fantasy that Kara never knew she had and was only now stumbling across on a moment to moment basis.
Unsure and deeply out of her element, aroused and embarrassed about it, the soft one sat down and rubbed her mouth. The blurred glass of the front door was darkened with movement and shadow, the wood bumped open with a hip as things were juggled between both arms and a water flask hung off the pinky for good measure.
“Hello to you too,” Lena puffed and smiled as the door was kicked closed. “Busy day?”
“Mhm. Oh! but not as busy as yours!” Kara caught herself.
“Well, nobody said being the boss was without its stresses.” Lena wiggled her brows and dumped things on the side table. “I’m one McQueen dress and a pair of Christian Louboutins light but I’ll live to fight another day. The disguise probably needed a bit more work.” She took a swig of water.
“Well it’s doing wonders for me.” Kara craned her neck and rubbed the side of it, astounded that a flannel shirt tied around the waist could be such an immense turn on. “You, er, you look good.” Kara smiled and nodded, embarrassed by the sudden wetness.
“I look good, huh?” Lena piqued a manicured brow and took a few gaited steps closer, showing off the new attire as if she were the butchest thing this side of province. “Does my girl have a thing for big tough Alpha types?” Lena narrowed her eyes slightly and pushed the short sleeves of her t-shirt up her arms, grinning and loving the attention.
“Hmm,” Kara pouted in thought. “I did marry the toughest one I could find. So sure, you might be onto something.” It earned an impressed smirk.
“Is that so?” Lena bit her bottom lip.
“Nobody said you were a wallflower.”
“You’re quite the catch yourself, Supergirl.”
“Ah ah,” Kara lifted her finger. “Maternity leave. I’m not Super if I can’t crash through walls or swoop down from the sky, or, you know, breastfeed and make a smoothie simultaneously.” The last part was said with slightly more exasperation.
“Well you’re Super to me,” Lena beamed and plonked herself down in the armchair a little less poised than usual. “A few months and you will be breastfeeding, making smoothies, and halting bank robberies for good measure.” She nodded reassuringly.
“Simultaneously? That sounds like it could get messy,” Kara chuckled.
“I told you I would support you going back to work when you’re ready, I meant it.”
“Strong, tough, and also very sweet.” Kara closed her eyes and sighed happily. “They were right, you are a catch.”
“How are you feeling? Have your hormones been wreaking havoc?”
“Do you want the truth or something a bit easier on your…” Kara glanced down to the large bulge in her wife’s jeans, cheeks pushed out, eyes darting back up to something other than the erection. “I can do either?”
“The truth. Unabridged, please.” Lena fluttered her long eyelashes.
“Well, my breasts are leaking, there’s stretch marks in places I didn’t even know possible, there are eight stitches holding my labia together, my womb is currently screaming at me to make another baby, my brain is screaming at my womb that it’s a trap.” Kara sighed and watched Lena’s expression fidget with confliction. “And on top of all of that, I masturbated three times today between mom-duties and it feels like I’m trying to put out an inferno with a watering can that has a hole in the bottom. I have never been more turned on than I am right now and my body is still a construction site. I could be better, I could be worse.”
“Okay, baby, first thing, your body is not a construction site. It’s a place of worship. It’s the Vatican.” Lena reminded with a deep, serious look. “Second, I knew this would be too much too soon. I’ll drive to the clinic and get a suppressant shot, it’s no problem—”
“You’re already in rut, plus, I reallydon’t want you to do that.” Kara became antsy and overwhelmed. “I’m just trying to warn you about what’s underneath all of this. That’s all...” The light grey cardigan was fiddled with.
“You remember that I was down the business-end when you gave birth, right?” Lena lifted an amused brow. “We shower together in the morning, sometimes you even let me kiss you on places other than your mouth when I’ve been extra well-behaved. I’m very aware of what’s under that cardigan, and the thought of it alone is doing a lot for me right now.” It was said with dopiest, softest, most loving, tender-eyed expression.
Kara chewed her lip guiltily for a moment. “I shower before you wake up. I put concealer under my eyes and make sure everything is neat and tidy before you see me naked.” It was a guilt that Kara wanted removing from her conscious, that she needed to be absolved of before Lena got a rude awakening of the present state of things. “It’s not that I think you won’t think I’m beautiful, it’s not that. I love this body, I love that it made a perfect little baby. I love that it aches, that it gets sore, that I finally understand what people mean when they say their muscles feel tired. I love knowing what it feels like to be human. But… this is our first cycle since Ellis and I just… want you to be in the picture.” She closed her eyes, aware that none of it sound as erotic as she hoped to be in the moments preceding intimacy.
“Baby, c’mere,” Lena became soft and empathetic, a small pout working into her mouth as she opened her arms wider.
The soft one stood up, frustrated and only growing more frustrated with the inability to express what she meant. There was still so much of it underneath the surface, so much of it steeped between the things she felt capable of saying. Half of her frustrations were because of her heat, because of the undulating, pulsating, hungry feeling in her belly that wanted for nothing but tired muscles and her wife’s knot. The other half was maybe the fear that Lena wouldn’t reciprocate the desire for something a bit more passionate than the usual order of things.
She clambered into Lena’s lap and took some small comfort in the closeness of it.
The bare arms around her spine were warm and smooth. Shoulders rising, forearms tight, chest exhaling weighted sighs, Lena became the safe thing to make it all go away. The soft one burrowed her nose and found a spot on Lena’s neck that smelled of relief. She stayed there, quiet, smiling a bit when she felt the taut jaw tuck itself over her head.
“Your body is so beautiful and powerful.” She felt the wisps of baby hair above her forehead move with the tender admittance. “I’m in the picture, my head is in the game, and it’s you a thousand times, Kara Danvers,” Lena crooned.
Kara smirked as her forehead was pecked with kisses. “Using my maiden surname now?” She craned her brow.
“Only so you remember I replaced it with mine.”
“Your boner is pushing in my butt.”
“Sorry, I get reallyexcited when I remember you have my last name.” They both giggled, and Lena shuffled the piled Superhero on top of her lap to make a bit more room. “Kara Danvers, I am going to take you upstairs and we’re going to sixty-nine until the sun hides behind the clouds in embarrassment. Anything else you want to talk to me about before I do just that?”
“Baby,” Kara pulled back and lightly pressed her thumbs into the hollows of Lena’s cheekbones. “I didn’t say I didn’t like your boner pushing in my butt…” It was exhaled with a bite of the bottom lip, with a tinge of naughtiness to her voice.
“Baby!” Lena blurted and blushed, as if she were avoiding a clear trap. “That is… no… we’re… just no.” She shook her head.
“Excuse me?”
“That is. That is barelyscooting around the medical advice we were given, Kara.” Lena closed her eyes, pink cheeked, flustered, aroused beyond words and trying to dampen her growing interest. “I want to do that more than anything but without your powers I could hurt you…”
“So if I was human you would never fuck me like you do when I’m Super? You wouldn’t want to experiment and try new things?” Kara lifted a slightly accusing brow. “This is the only time in my life when I will ever be physically weaker than you and I want to enjoy it, baby.” She rubbed Lena’s shoulders and felt her start to wane. “Don’t you want to enjoy me?” She knew there could only be one answer, the correct one.
“I do, believe me… if only you knew how many times I’ve fantasized about having you sore and whimpering underneath me…” Lena closed her eyes and let the sentence hang. “It’s just your life experience is that of an indestructible woman, Kara. And that doesn’t intimidate me in the slightest. It just worries me that if I get too rough with you while you’re without powers… it could be overwhelming? I guess?” Her green eyes appeared again from behind her fluttering lids.
“I want it to be overwhelming.” Kara pressed forward and kissed her lips. “I want it to hurt, to ache, to make me sore, to make me so tired I can barely crawl. I want you to bite me and mean it. I want you to tell me you love me and mean it more. I want to get primal. I wantto be overwhelmed.” She emphasised with warm palms growing tight around the tautness of her wife’s jaw. “You’re the kind of woman who makes the thought of being overwhelmed by you very, very appealing.”
“It’s the flannel, isn’t it?” Lena chewed a weak grin. “Is that why my pretty girl is on me like a bruise today?” Her eyebrow piqued.
“Well, I was kinda hoping you might find the time to put some bruises on me…” Kara kissed the corner of her mouth, the cupid’s bow of her top lip, pecked her way around the outskirts of town until the big boss weakly growled because of it.
“Fuck,” Lena hissed.
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skull-earring · 4 months ago
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👀
Do you have any song suggestions for Meg 🤔
I will so take suggestions
SMILES
Okay it really depends on like. I think there are a lot of angles you can look at Megaera from and I like exploring all of them so I’ll go through a few.
Here’s my playlist for her (Spotify) I’m gonna explain some of the song choices
So I think the most popular one I see and also the most surface-level is the badass unbreakable front she puts up and for that part you get songs like Blood in the Cut (K. Flay) and Natural (Imagine Dragons). K. Flay is very good for vibes uhh President Has a Sex Tape would go in here too if I wasn’t so incredibly picky about lyrics.
The second aspect of her is like… her inability/unwillingness to show vulnerability that can contribute to that sharp outward persona and makes a lot of the more sensitive/self-aware songs like off the table kind of in my opinion because she’s not one to be outwardly emotionally vulnerable at all. But this is where uh Roadkill comes in I love that song for Megaera because I think it perfectly brings in her want and need for someone to return the care she has for others without actually prioritising herself. This is also uhhh O My Heart, with struggling to keep relationships because she literally just can’t be open enough with someone (I see this with Achilles most, but also a lot with Alecto, and in her conversations with Zag it’s often obvious).
That also leads into my favourite thing ever and that is Megaera’s guard dog theme. Because the thing is Megaera’s main priority - kind of her only priority - is her duty to everyone else. It says in her Codex entry that she’s loyal to Hades, but not actually Hades, she’s loyal to the House itself. And nearly every overheard conversation of hers with someone else is her trying to help someone and doing a very bad job at hiding that she cares about them. And also the whole “I’m only doing this because I have to” “I’d rather be on [Hades’] bad side than yours”. Megaera can literally do less than Cerberus can. Cerberus doesn’t even have to fight Zagreus he can be bribed to let him pass, Megaera doesn’t have that luxury and doesn’t have a choice in killing him, she’s on orders. This is getting very long but trust me okay she’s more guard dog coded than the literal guard dog. So anyway that’s to say that Cop Car, I’m Your Man, Until It Doesn’t Hurt (the “not being allowed to do anything but stay put and do what I’m told”), Bullet with Butterfly Wings, Saint Bernard, a couple more, all that.
And also Giver is for the whole “constantly serving everyone around her and still believes being kind is not her thing”. She’s got that ISTP inferior Fe swag. That’s a different thing.
There’s also the whole oldest sister essentially being “favourited” and “abandoning” her sisters and the guilt that comes with that and having a wall kind of form between you and them and not being able to try and rebuild that relationship because of aforementioned inability to allow yourself to open up and your sisters growing closer to each other and further away from you as a result and there’s probably a lot of songs that go with that whole thing. Who knows though.
Ignore how this immediately derailed and turned into a character analysis post. Basically I go insane over her every day.
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southparkofmonsterandmen · 5 years ago
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OUT OF CHARACTER:
Name: meg
Pronouns: she/her
Age: 23
Favorite word: kyman
Triggers: self-harm and sexual assault while intoxicated
Extra: ya’ll be trippin’
IN CHARACTER:
Name: Kyle Broflovski
Gender and pronouns: Cis Male, he/him
Age: 19
Appearance + Mutations: Tall and skinny, all limbs, curly ginger hair with deep green eyes. Prominent nose, pale skin, and freckled cheeks. Often dresses well and put together. Being of nobility, Kyle is relatively unmutated. He does, however, have a psychosis mutation; his intuition is heightened. Can get a general strong sense of what people are feeling, and is usually pretty convincing and persuasive.
Personality: Kyle is intelligent, with skills in reading, writing, math, and diplomacy. He’s competitive by nature, and will push himself to win, and be taken seriously. Kyle’s most well known trait is his infamous grey morality. He loves nothing more than to be right; the voice of reason in an otherwise chaotic world. But he will also never, ever back down from a chance to teach someone a lesson. Whether that’s giving his (often unwarranted) advice or arguing his point, Kyle is very stubborn. And although overall he is a kind, compassionate, and nurturing guy, at the end of the day, Kyle’s not afraid to stoop down and play dirty to get what he wants. But on the flip side, when faced with a moral dilemma, or caught doing wrong, Kyle is usually the first one to own up to his actions and apologize. He knows he makes mistakes, and he’s willing to apologize, even if just to diffuse a situation. He also suffers from extreme cases of empathy, and will always strive to see the good in a person.
Class: Nobility
Extra: Fairly low constitution; can hold his own, but he’s not very strong. He gets sick pretty easily as well.
Backstory: Born to the noble family of the Broflovski’s, Kyle had a relatively nice life growing up. At a young age, a child was left on the Broflovski’s doorstep of their lavish home near the castle grounds. Stan Marsh, at the same age as their first son, was adopted and brought into their family as Kyle’s brother, and raised along side him as a warrior to protect him. A few years later, Sheila adopted a second younger son as well, naming him Ike. Kyle loves both his brothers immensely, and would do anything for them. As for Kyle himself, he has enjoyed his life of nobility, but he has a taste for adventure. Although not as physically strong as he would like, he’s scrappy and passionate and fiery, with a thirst for something more.
Headcanons OR writing sample:
His voice is lost amongst the wind and branches; he seems to be outside somewhere, maybe? Kyle can’t tell, but there’s a calm stillness to everything. No animal noises, or cracking branches. No other sounds at all actually except for his steady heartbeat.
The sudden additional voice startles him, and Kyle takes a step back, whipping his head around, watching in awe as the fog is lifted, revealing lush, green grass. Similarly, his head feels a little less foggy as well; his thoughts not as muffled. Fuck. Stan was stabbed. He was hurt.
“Who’s there? Who is that?”
Kyle’s really starting to panic now, head turning every which way looking for his best friend, but then, he sees her. Emerging from the forest, as if the trees themselves bend to her, a regal looking woman steps towards him. Kyle notes that she’s beautiful, but in a fierce kind of way. Intimidating. He instinctually takes a few more steps back, covering his chest.
“Uhh,” he says, stupidly. “Hi.”
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vaugnbarde1 · 3 years ago
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His Reflection
Vaugn Barde
Loud screaming woke me up this morning - as usual. Time check it’s 7:00 AM, just enough time for me to do my usual routine before classes. Should I eat breakfast? I’m really hungry but I don’t want to talk to ‘them’. My thoughts came to halt as I felt the faucet water rising from the sink in my hands. I closed the faucet just to hear faint voices from downstairs since the door is ajar. 
They’re fighting again. 
I walked like there were egg shells on the floor, hoping they wouldn't notice my presence. My alarm clock went off announcing my classes are about to start. I looked outside my window and noticed the foggy weather outside - well it’s December after all. Literature class is about to start - my favorite. Mr. Johnson, a father figure teacher of mine, is the reason why I love his subject. He made me feel validated and important unlike my biological parents. He was there when my parents were never there. My eyes started to water to the thought of it but my laptop notified me that classes had already started. Attendance happened, just before I unmute myself to let my presence be acknowledged, my wifi started acting up. As much as I don’t want to go downstairs I have to reset the router so I lazily wore my slippers and dragged my feet downstairs 
“You, lend me some money” dad’s finger pointed his finger at me. I walked past him and started doing my business. All he does is spend that money in gambling and he’ll be home wasted and with more debt and- 
My thoughts were cut off again with my mom coming and arguing with my dad. I hurriedly went upstairs rushing to cover my ears from all the ruckus in the house. My dad is very emotional and tends to not think twice of what he does causing trouble for others. 
I will never be like him.
My head still shaking and overwhelmed with emotions, I attended my classes. I joined our class and let my teacher acknowledge my presence. Mr. Johnson did acknowledge and proceeded with his discussion. “Zianne Mendez, correct!” A repeatedly name mentioned throughout the discussion. I’ve never heard of this person before but I’m not liking it. I messaged my friend, with who this Zianne is, with her responding as a transferee and a “new class favorite” of Mr. Johnson. I scoffed in disbelief upon hearing this. This can’t be right. No. I am his favorite student. This is not possible. I will not be replaced. My mind snapped when I remembered our competition. That’s right, Mr. Johnson hasn’t picked who will represent our class. That’s right. My mind is currently bombarded with thoughts and I can’t think of anything else nor can I hear and see with my senses. I unplugged my phone from charging - I can feel the heat of it being over recharged but I couldn’t care less. My hands tremble as I message my professor. 
“Good day sir” I started typing my message “With regards to the writing competition, I would like to ask if the position for being the representative is still available. I would appreciate your kindest response” I doubtfully sent the message - hoping his response won’t be what I expect, but it was. 
“Oh, I was just about to message you Ms. Santiago. I am happy to say that the spot is still available. However, I did recommend Ms. Mendez to the head for this since I see a lot of potential in her. If you still wish to join the competition, feel free to submit the needed requirements before 5pm today.” 
Rage took over my head. How could I be replaced for a day? And worse it’s a transferee. For five years of being Mr. Johnson’s student, I was always the one being recommended. What should I do? I paced around my room back and forth and back and forth trying to process everything. I started pulling my hair checking to see if this is just a nightmare. Pain - I felt that. I stared at myself in the mirror, a small grin appeared. I started looking for pictures, my hands having minds of their own. Fingers rapidly doing their thing as I laugh hysterically. I was too overwhelmed with my emotions to be aware of my doings but I couldn’t care less. I can’t just let this happen. A ding was heard from my cell phone notifying me that it’s already posted.
The next morning, I woke up - not because of my parents screaming at each other or my alarm clock - but a number of notifications I received. It was too early for me to be processing what’s happening and so I let it be. Loud thuds could be heard going upstairs. The feeling of anxiety and uneasiness started to flow all through my body. Two figures stand beside my door frame with looks of disappointment evident. My dad was about to raise his hand when mom stopped him. My eyes widened as my whole body trembles at the situation I am in. I was about to question what happened when my dad placed his phone in front of my face and made me see what I posted yesterday 
“New Student - Zianne Mendez sleeps with Mr. Johnson for the spot in a competition and for grades (pictures shown below)” 
Continued with news below with headlines: The said student attempted suicide due to hate received thankfully stopped in time. 
I let out a loud gasp. “What do you have to say for yourself” my consciousness was back as I felt a strong force around my neck stopping myself from crying. “I did what I had to do. I needed my spot in the competition.” I standed firm trying not to be bothered by what I just read. “To the extent of killing someone?!!?” my dad’s eyes glared at me in disbelief. “I did not tell her to kill herself.” My mom’s face fell down as if she’s not believing I’m saying this right now. It’s their fault, not mine, it’s Mr. Johnsons’ and that Zianne too. Nothing is my fault. My dad heavily left the room leaving my mom with me. 
“You are becoming like your father” was all she said and leaving me alone and seemingly red-handed.
Final Examination: Fiction
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selfless-sam · 8 years ago
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Coda to 12x11-- Regarding Dean. Destiel.
Sam calls Cas as soon as they’re safely back at the bunker. 
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Cas growls at Sam, stalking across the kitchen to where Dean is nursing a beer. He asks Dean, “How are you feeling?” with some leftover animosity, but Dean recognizes it for what it is: concern. 
“Cas, I’m fine,” Dean says, letting Cas poke and prod at him. He takes Dean’s temperature with his fingertip, lays his fingers across Dean’s wrist to feel his pulse, then eventually steps back, examining Dean’s face carefully. Dean holds his hands up, a wordless See, no worse for the wear. “Dude, I’m fine. Really.” The worried crease stays between Cas’ eyebrows. 
Dean calls it a night early, retreating to his room, but when he comes back out for a glass of water, he hears Sam and Cas talking in hushed tones. “It was bad, man,” Sam says, and Dean finally begins to understand what a toll it took on his brother to watch Dean lose everything right before his eyes. “It was-- tough, to....” Sam’s voice breaks. 
“I wish you’d have called me, Sam,” Cas admonishes, but it’s gentle this time, and Sam allows Cas to pull him into a hug. Dean waits for the moment to pass before he makes his presence known. Sam straightens up, silent while Dean gets his water, and he bids Dean goodnight once more when Dean trudges back to his room. 
Dean falls asleep feeling strangely hollow. Not because he got his memories back-- and with it, all of the baggage he’s carried for years-- but because he realizes how much of a scare it had been for Sam. 
xXxXx
Sam insists that they take a few days off. Dean’s mind may be fully back, but the brothers aren’t as young as they used to be, and two rounds of spells had definitely zapped Dean’s energy. He only puts up a fight for the first day, then he lets it rest. Mary comes over, fusses over him and orders takeout. She even comes back with a pie, and Dean decides maybe a few days off isn’t such a bad idea after all. 
Cas sticks around. Dean losing his marbles may have been terrifying for Sam, but Cas is the one who hovers. It’s unnerving. He won’t leave Dean alone, except for when he sleeps and showers. Even then, Dean has the nagging suspicion that Cas is lurking right outside his door. 
On the third day, Dean finally asks, “What’s going on with you, man?” Cas is sitting quietly with Dean, who’s marathoning some crime show that he’s pretty sure Cas hates. 
“Nothing,” Cas replies, monotone, without looking away from the screen. 
“Could’ve fooled me,” Dean grumbles, but when Cas says nothing else, he lets it sit. It’s not like he’s the type to try to pull emotional confessions out of people. If Cas needs to talk, he can open up when he’s ready. 
xXxXx
“Shit, I think I had a heart-to-heart with Rowena,” Dean says suddenly over dinner. “Well, it was pretty one-sided. I can’t remember exactly what she said. Something about... Amara?” 
Sam freezes. “Are your memories coming back?” 
“It’s hazy, like a weird dream. God, I wish I could remember. What if she said something that was good blackmail material?” 
Sam studies Dean for a minute. “If you remember anything else, feel free to talk about it, okay?” 
“Yeah, yeah.” Dean waves him off. “Did you make any girly confessions, Sammy?” 
“Fuck off,” Sam counters immediately, but Dean sees the corner of Sam’s mouth turn up in a small smile. Cas, who’s been sitting at the table silently, snorts at Sam’s lackluster comeback. 
Dean points a fork at him. “Don’t encourage him.” 
xXxXx
Dean remembers the incident with Baby the next day, when he goes to run some errands and he sees the dents and scratches on the front of the car.
He yells for Sam, then it all comes flooding back to him. Sam runs in, frantic, thinking something happened to Dean. When he sees Dean staring at the front of the car, the panic falls away and he looks a bit sheepish. He scratches the back of his head. “I was gonna tell you...” He trails off. “You were really out of it, man.” 
Dean gapes. “Must’ve been.” Sam had told him Dean forgot everything, including his own name and who Sam was, but this was concrete proof of how badly his mind had eroded.
As always, Cas keeps him company while he fixes Baby up. He says very little, but he looks a bit relieved to see Dean working on his car, his shoulders dropping a bit. Something in Dean relaxes, too, seeing Cas unwind. 
Dean didn’t realize that he’d been affected by Cas being so uptight and... what, afraid? Was Cas afraid?
He has a feeling it was going to bubble to the surface, somehow or another. Either that or Cas would finally leave. At the thought of it, Dean feels something like discomfort in the pit of his stomach. He resolutely ignores it.
xXxXx
That night, lying in bed, Dean remembers his scene in the bathroom at the motel, after Sam had left. Just like everything else, it’s foggy, the memory blurred at the edges, but this is the clearest one yet. He remembers having his hands braced on the sink, trying to remember the basics, the bare bones of who he is. 
Sam is my brother. Mary Winchester is my mom. Cast-- Cas is my best friend. 
He doesn’t know why it’s important to him that Cas is one of the last things that he remembered, but somehow, it is. It sticks to him, sitting on his chest as he tries to fall asleep. 
At two in the morning he finally gives up. He wanders through the bunker, following the sound of the TV until he finds Cas curled up on the couch. For once, he’s taken his trench coat off, and he’s got a blanket spread across his lap. The sight makes Dean’s heart ache, just a little, and he can’t put his finger on why. 
“Dean, what are you doing awake?” Cas asks, muting the TV. Dean approaches, and Cas slides over to make room for him on the couch. 
“Couldn’t sleep,” he says, his voice rough. 
“Are you feeling all right?” Cas asks, and there it is again, the note of concern in his voice, even though it’s been nearly a week since Dean got his memory back. 
“Yeah.” Dean hesitates. He realizes that they need to talk, but he doesn’t know how. He starts with the question he’s been thinking since the second day Cas stuck around. “Cas, why are you still here?” 
Cas looks away, and his face falls. It’s almost imperceptible in the flickering light, but Dean knows Cas too well by now. Admittedly, Dean thinks ruefully, he phrased his question poorly. He backtracks, tries to do damage control. 
“Hey, look,” he says, sliding a bit closer, and he counts it as a victory when Cas doesn’t move away from him, although he does stiffen up. That makes Dean ache, too. “You know me and Sam are always happy to have you here. Always.” 
Cas’ facial expression slides into skepticism, and it occurs to Dean that, no, maybe Cas doesn’t know that. Shit. He rubs his eyes. 
“Well, we are. Hell, if I had it my way, I’d have you here all the time, man.” 
Cas’ eyes go wide, and Dean can’t really bear the sight of it-- God, how does Cas not know?-- so he stumbles onward. 
“All I meant was, this is longer than you usually stay. And like I said--” he rushes to make sure he doesn’t make the same mistake twice, “I’m thrilled to have you here, Cas, I honestly am. I just get the feeling that something’s wrong. You’ve, uh, kinda been staying close by me, more so than usual.” 
Cas doesn’t speak for a minute, his lips pressed into a flat line, like he’s trying to choose his words carefully. 
“I don’t like that I wasn’t able to help you,” he says finally, slowly. “I don’t like that you were vulnerable and I didn’t know about it.” He looks down at the blanket, picking at the loose threads. “Even though I know that it--” He stops. “I would not have dealt well with it, watching you slip away.” He laughs humorlessly. “I don’t know how Sam did it.” 
“Sam says that when I was still mostly with it, I explicitly told him not to call you or Mom,” Dean admits quietly, and he’s expecting it when Cas shoots a glare at him. “I don’t think I wanted you to see me like that either, Cas.” 
This is probably the caring and sharing that needed to happen days ago, so Dean decides he may as well go all out. “You know,” he says, his voice hushed, “you were one of the last things I could remember.” 
Cas looks up at him, squinting. “What do you mean?” 
“I had another memory come back, just now. I’d forgotten almost everything, but I could remember Sam, and Mom.” He swallows. “And you. I remembered you were,” he clears his throat and corrects himself, “are my best friend. After that, I couldn’t even remember my name. But you were one of the last things I had left.”
Cas stares. “Really?” he says at last, like he can’t quite believe Dean. 
Once more, Dean feels a vast disconnect, that somehow Cas doesn’t know this. Cas doesn’t know that he belongs in the bunker; he doesn’t know that he’s important enough that Dean could remember him right up until the bitter end. How does Cas not know? 
Probably because Dean isn’t so great with his words. He exhales. 
“Yeah, Cas. Really.” He shifts closer again. “I’m sorry you weren’t there. And I’m-- sorry that this all comes as a surprise to you.” 
Cas shifts his gaze, looking uncertain. 
“I mean,” Dean huffs, “you should know this by now, man. We’ve been through so much together. You’re my best friend, Cas,” he says, saying the words slowly, making sure Cas hears them. 
“Okay,” Cas says finally, slowly, like he still can’t quite believe it, but Dean can tell that he’s trying to, trying desperately to absorb Dean’s statement. 
Dean doesn’t know what else he can say right now-- he’s exhausted, and he has a feeling this is all going to take time. Cas needs to learn he’s wanted here, that Dean wants him here. Dean needs to learn to express that more often. Two o’ clock in the morning is not the time to do it all at once. 
“It’ll probably be a while before I’m tired enough to sleep. Can I keep you company?” Dean asks, and Cas is nodding before he’s even finished his sentence. He leans across Cas’ body to snag the remote, and in the process, he moves closer. When he sits up again, unmuting the TV, their knees are touching, and somehow, the point of contact is comforting. He steals some of the blanket, accusing Cas of being a blanket hog, and he breathes a sigh of relief when Cas smiles, just a little. 
It’s enough. 
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rhysie-cakes314 · 6 years ago
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Day 10- Serial Killer
When a client asks Jessica Jones to find her missing husband, she thinks it's just another Tuesday. There was no way for her to know her investigation would lead her to a serial killer.
More characters! ゚.+(〃ノωノ)゚.+° 
Including Jessica Jones, Matt Murdock, Luke Cage, Foggy Nelson, and the little known Roderick Krupp!
Jessica Jones should’ve known things were too easy when the trail of evidence was so obvious. It started as a simple missing person’s case, the usual ‘oh please I haven’t seen my husband in days’ sort of thing that nearly always turned out to be a cheater run off with the mistress.
In the beginning of the search, there even was a mistress. Jessica had followed the man’s credit card transactions to a motel room, where the woman was still staying. Unfortunately, she had no idea where the man had gone.
“And you’re still waiting for him?” Jessica asked incredulously. She had stopped scribbling notes in her pad to eye the mistress.
She looked pained. “He promised me he’d be back so we could leave together!” the woman, Sharlene, burst into tears. “He was only going to drop off the divorce papers.”
Jessica gave her an awkward pat on the shoulder, leafing through the cheater’s suitcase again. In fairness to Sharlene, the man did seem to be packed for good. He must’ve bought a whole new wardrobe because there was no way this much was missing from his closet, Jessica would’ve noticed. “When did he leave exactly?”
Sharlene sniffled. “Um, it was probably around 11am yesterday. Yeah, because we were going to get lunch when he got back.”
CCTV? Check nearby gas stations, someone else must have seen him before he vanished, she wrote. After assuring Sharlene that she would call when she found the man, Jessica escaped the drab motel for her car. She examined the map on her phone, noting places the missing man may have stopped between here and his home.
The third gas station she checked actually had footage of the kidnapping. They hadn’t done their weekly glance through the footage yet, so they were just as surprised as Jessica when the blurry footage showed a slumped figure approach the man from behind and inject something into his neck. Whoever the kidnapper was had to be strong, because he lifted the unconscious man into the passenger seat of his own car easily, and Mr. Marcus wasn’t light. The Marcuses were both tall, and Mr. Marcus was a fitness nut, 6 foot of dense muscle. The kidnapper was easily a foot shorter, and didn’t look particularly buff.
She couldn’t make out any useful features, besides the slight hunch to his shoulders. The kidnapper never faced the camera. Great, now the police had to be involved. Jessica hoped the client would still pay her.
“Ms. Jones, always a pleasure,” the detective said sarcastically. Honestly, she didn’t deserve the attitude she got from the city’s officials, really. It was never her fault the police couldn’t do their jobs, nor was the increase in powered crime that she ended up tangled in her fault. She just seem to draw trouble.
“Detective,” she nodded in greeting. “Want the rundown of what I’ve got so far?” She gave him her sweetest smile. If she had to work around these guys for the rest of the case, they could at least be friendly.
Detective needs-to-shave, as Jessica had dubbed him in her head, crossed his arms. “May as well,” he sighed. “Though if you’re here, I’m sure this case is gonna involve one of you powered freaks. I don’t get paid enough for this shit.”
So much for getting along. “Nevermind, I’ll find the victim myself,” she spat. “I don’t have to listen to this bigotry.” He shouted after her as she stormed away to her car. She flipped him off without looking back. Once she was a couple blocks away, Jessica pulled over and parked, rubbing her face. She had stopped shedding tears over judgemental pricks years ago, but they were still exhausting. She emailed a copy of her notes and Mr. Marcus’ paper trail to the Detective, so she wouldn’t be bothered later with requests to go to the station. The asshole was gonna feel like an idiot later when Jessica dropped off the kidnapper tied up all neat with a bow.
Roderick Krupp whipped his head around in Jessica’s direction at the sound of the detectives’s voice on her phone. She muted it quickly, silently cursing herself. She darted across the gap between the groundskeeper shed and the nearest mausoleum.  Krupp continued down the pathway, peering around with squinted eyes. The lights weren’t as bright out here on the outskirts of the cemetery, where all the mausoleums stood like sentries. Jessica held her breath, hoping he would give up the search.
Krupp called out, “Anyone there!? I won’t hurt you.” He sounded like a stereotypical old man, but he was definitely not generic. Even in the dark, Jessica could see that his skin was off. It was a green, with some darker bluish undertones on his elbows and neck. It reminded her of a cartoon zombie. He waited another few minutes, listening to the night. He had sworn he heard someone else out here. Why anyone beside him would be out here in the middle of the night was beyond him.
A muffled yell sounded from the other direction, catching Krupp’s attention. “Whatever,” he muttered, turning and making his way back to the newly dug grave.
Quickly unmuting the phone, hoping the man was still there, she whispered into the mic before hanging up immediately. “Cavalry Cemetery, Mr. Marcus is being buried alive.” Jessica darted forward again, hiding behind gravestones for a few moments at a time.
As she drew closer to the kidnapper, she could hear more details. Poor Mr. Marcus was yelling through the wooden box he was locked in, but it was too muffled for her to make out. Jessica couldn’t help the way she winced slightly with each plop of dirt onto the box. “When the eyes of Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image (which with a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to sustain its role, stalked to and fro among the waltzers) he was seen to be convulsed…” Krupp’s gravelly voice rang out as he apparently told Mr. Marcus a story. Jessica recognized the name Prospero, but wasn’t sure where from.
She took a deep breath before stepping into the light. “Stop!”
The hunched green man, who up close looked even more like a zombie more than a man, turned to snarl at her. “You shouldn’t be here!” He screamed. She caught the shovel easily where he had aimed for her head. He gaped at her, surprised, and she smirked as she crumpled the metal with her hand.
Things were looking good for her until Krupp suddenly smirked back. He shouldn’t look that confident in the face of her strength. He lurched forward. She wasn’t fast enough to avoid the hand that now gripped her throat. Krupp lifted her in the air, and she kicked him uselessly. She pried at his fingers, gasping for breath, but Krupp was stronger than her.
The familiar sound of a gun safety turning off broke the killer’s concentration. “Drop the girl and put your hands on your head!” the Detective from earlier shouted. Jessica wasn’t so sure it would work since he was powered.
Luckily, he must not be bulletproof. She fell to her knees, gasping and retching. After she finished coughing enough to feel in control, she brought herself to her feet again. There were already officers there helping a shaken Mr. Marcus out of the hole. She gave her statement, and turned down the medics. She’d be fine, though her voice would be fucked up for a few days. Driving home, tired, she called each of the women in Mr. Marcus’ life. “Found him, he’s alive,” was all she ground out before hanging up. She hardly felt like talking. Mrs. Marcus could get her bill in her email tomorrow.
… The bruises on her neck were mostly gone when she testified against ‘The Digger’ in court. That was what the papers had called him when he was linked to 16 open murder cases. She had to say, it wasn’t a very good serial killer name. Though Matt Murdock was usually a defense attorney, he had pulled some strings with the DA’s office to prosecute this case when he heard the details from Jessica. It paid off to be known as the lawyer who handle ‘special cases’ with any powered parties involved. Jessica couldn’t believe the public still hadn’t figured out the he was Daredevil. He always seemed to know facts about cases that he shouldn’t, cases the Daredevil was involved in. It was obvious!
“Please tell the jury what you saw,” Murdock spoke loudly and clearly. Jessica described the night. The jury audibly gasped when she talked about the screams of Mr. Marcus through the coffin lid. Murdock nodded, pacing back and forth thoughtfully as though this weren’t the thousandth time he’s heard her testimony. Court could be such a rehearsed play. “Thank you, Ms. Jones, no further questions.”
The trial was very straight forward. Jessica had witnessed the attempted murder, and the rest of the cases had plenty of fingerprints to place him with the body. The only reason they were there at all was because The Digger was going for an insanity plea, but Murdock wasn’t having any of it. Without Jessica’s witness testimony, there may have been a chance of reasonable doubt because Krupp worked at the cemetery and his fingerprints could just be on the tools others used. Circumstantial evidence, it was called. It had taken weeks of exhuming and using some sort of underground sonar to find all of the bodies, as they were hidden amongst the graves that actually belonged there. She had to admit that hiding bodies in a cemetery was a good plan.
“Has the jury reached a verdict?” The judge was a tiny woman with a high voice. It didn’t fit one’s general picture of a judge.
“We have your honor. We find the defendant guilty on all counts.”
Two years later, no one was thinking about the Digger. He was old news, and New York city was never short on new crime to report on. So when the man escaped from prison, nobody thought that maybe Jessica, Matt, and Foggy should be the first people to know. The serial killer did blame them for being put behind bars, especially Jessica. Instead, they found out on the news with everyone else. Jessica was at a bar and saw it on the tiny TV. Luke was helping a friend move by doing all the heavy lifting, so Jessica had taken the opportunity for a solo night. Being engaged was great and all, but she needed some time alone sometimes.
Slamming some money onto the bar, Jessica ran outside dialing Matt. “Hey Jess, what’s up?”
“Have you heard the news tonight?” She asked. As she walked in the direction of her apartment, she was constantly scanning for anything suspicious. Just to be safe, she took an indirect root home.
“No, what’s wrong?” His voice was sharp.
“The Digger escaped,” she murmured into the receiver. She wanted to seem natural, not stick out of the crowd. If she yelled the way her nerves wanted her to, she would’ve been spotted by any potential pursuers immediately.
“Shit,” the sound came out as a hiss in Jessica’s ear. “I can protect Foggy but is Luke around so you’re not alone?”
“He’s busy tonight. I think I’ll call Trish to get me at home and we can lock up tight at her place.” It was a good enough plan. She had the security of a bunker. Her own apartment would be a terrible idea. She and Luke had agreed that they didn’t need any intense locks considering how hard they were to hurt. Plus they were too poor for good security, but their life was fine for them.
“Text me when you’re there so I know you made it.”
“Of course,” Jessica confirmed. She ended the call and looked around again. It was only one more block. There were some things she’d want from the apartment if she was going to Trish’s (mainly her own liquor, Trish’s choices were atrocious) then she’d call her.
Matt was bouncing his leg up and down anxiously. “Maybe I should go looking for her,” he started. Jessica wasn’t answering his calls, and Trish never heard from her, and she could be dead. The police would never find him in time to save Jessica if the Digger had her. His MO was to bury his victims the same night. It was more difficult to keep live victims from calling attention or escaping than it was to just be rid of them before the morning light.
“Dude, that man is stronger than Jessica! Plus even you aren’t going to be able to hear her from far away and through a coffin,” Foggy countered, not unkindly. He wasn’t really close to Jessica like Matt was, probably because he didn’t have the whole hero thing they had, but he still liked the woman. She was crass and blunt in a refreshing way when one spends their days in stuffy courtrooms.  Matt wasn’t thinking clearly though. “We should call in the big guns on this one, there’s no time to fuck around.”
Matt cocked his head. “The big guns?” His leg had stopped bouncing.
“Yeah, the Avengers! I bet Stark can find her with his resources in no time.” Foggy thought it was a great plan. Sure the Avengers generally stayed out of Hell’s kitchen, letting the local heroes sweat the smaller time villains and organized crime, but he had no doubt they’d help if asked.
Matt honestly hadn’t even thought of it. He dialed Natasha automatically, since they were already friends. “Hey Nat, I need your help…”
Jessica woke up in the dark. She tried to sit up and promptly hit her head. She looked around in the pitch black, feeling the small box she was in. “Well fuck.” She tried to push up on the lid with her considerable strength, but there had to be metal reinforcing the thing and keeping it shut, because it didn’t budge. “Fuuuuck,” she groaned. This was not a good way to go, and nobody would find her easily for a rescue. She wondered how long it would take her to suffocate.
That was when the staggered pitter patter of dirt on the coffin above her began. Great, she was already in the ground. She was being buried alive. Krupp’s voice startled her, and she hit her forehead on the surface above her again.
“True! --nervous --very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why will you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses --not destroyed --not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How, then, am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily --how calmly I can tell you the whole story…” The Diggers voice was clear in Jessica’s ears. It made no sense given how thick this trap had to be to hold her in. It took a few more moments of the story for her to realize that she had small speakers in her ears. She pulled one out, but could hear her murderer regardless.
She considered crushing the devices, but decided she’d rather sit through the pain of listening to the creep than be left completely alone down here. The voice was disturbingly comforting when you were alone in the dark underground. Like the Digger was somehow accompanying her to her death. The story was also comfortingly familiar… Was this Poe? Jessica sighed, holding her panic at bay by willpower alone. Maybe a miracle would happen.
The air wasn’t helping her anymore. She kept breathing, harder and faster, but it was just recycled CO2 at this point. It felt a little like drowning slowly. “...Meantime the hellish tattoo of the heart increased. It grew quicker and quicker, and louder and louder every instant. The old man's terror must have been extreme! It grew louder, I say, louder every moment...” She heard the man continue, and enough dirt must be on top of her by now that it covered the box completely, for she no longer heard the dirt hitting.  There was no holding back the instinctual panic that overtook her. Her lungs burned for air but the air around her was useless.
“...But the beating grew louder, louder! I thought the heart must burst. And now a new anxiety seized me --the sound would be heard by a neighbour! The old man's hour had come! With a loud yell, I threw open the lantern and leaped into the room. He shrieked once --once only. In an instant I dragged him to the floor, and pulled the heavy bed over him. I then smiled gaily, to find the deed so far done. But, for many minutes, the heart beat on with a muffled sound…” The Tell-Tale Heart, her brain finally supplied her, not that it mattered. Jessica had to hand it to the man, it was a good choice. Her own racing heart seemed to be mimicking the old man’s in the story. Her lips were tingling and her vision was becoming crowded with black spots. She could no longer hear the narration over her own roaring heartbeat that blurred into the sound of a rushing wave. Jessica passed out just as she saw a sudden influx of light and a blurry red figure.
Tony had landed, broken the serial killer’s arms, and left Steve in charge of watching him. It had taken JARVIS and him a several hours to locate them, and it was hard to tell how long Jessica Jones had been underground. He wasted no time using a repulsor to blast away the dirt all at once. He melted the locks and ripped the metal coffin open only to see the woman close her eyes with a shudder. Her lips were blue and her hands were bloody from beating on the inside of the box. He couldn’t help the swell of panic that washed over him at just the thought of being buried alive. Tony thought the cave had given him claustrophobia, but this…
Tony quashed the panic, there was no time. He lifted the faceplate of the suit as he lifted Jones’ light body onto the ground above so he could give mouth to mouth. He heard Steve sigh in relief with him when the girl gasped and began heaving in air on her own. When her eyes fluttered open, she was met with Tony’s concerned face. She wasn’t dead. Jessica began crying with relief, and the Tony Stark caressed her face. “You’re okay now, I promise,” he assured.
The soggy laugh that burst out of her surprised both of them. “This isn’t how I wanted to meet an Avenger.” God, the man had just saved her life, and she was awkward and star-struck.
The admission startled a laugh out of Tony as well. He helped the younger woman sit up shakily. “Well it’s nice to meet you anyways, Ms. Jones. I’m glad you’re alive.” He beamed at her.
Jessica shook his hand. This was all surreal. Now that she was sitting up, she noticed Captain America was there too. She waved at him, and he waved back, looking a little confused. SHIELD agents had just arrived and were cuffing the escaped convict, so Steve walked over. Jessica and Tony both stood, and Jessica was already feeling much better. It was hard to believe she had just nearly died. Before she could utter a sound in greeting, Tony clapped an armoured hand on Steve’s shoulder, “Steve Rogers, meet Jessica Jones, star of the night.” Tony was making grand gestures and speaking like a talk show host. It broke the awkward mood and he felt victorious.
“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Steve chuckled, shaking her hand.
“Thank you both for saving me,” she remembered to say. Trish was going to be so jealous that she met Iron Man and Captain America!
Tony snorted loudly. “Steve, I told you no one uses ma’am anymore,” he teased. He met Jessica’s gaze with a grin. “I heard a rumour that you might be able to keep up with even my drinking, wanna test the theory? How better to celebrate being alive than a celebration drink?”
She could see the mischief in his eyes, and Steve was blushing as though Tony embarrassed him. “Oh, you think you know drinking until you’ve gone out with me,” she challenged.
The two men shared a silent conversation of facial expressions. Tony must’ve gotten the response he wanted because he let out a whoop. “You’re on, Jones!” And that was how Jessica Jones, PI, became friends with Steve Rogers and Tony Stark. The other Avengers proceeded to weasel their way into her life by the end of the weekend. Her life was strange.
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skull-earring · 11 months ago
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Hi this is Foggy’s video game sideblog main is @my-soul-stays-silent this is another special interest of mine I think
Currently hyperfixated on Hades
aroace-astarion -> skull-earring
I switch rapidly between sex/romance repulsed/indifferent/favourable it’s hell please don’t send me anything nsfw if it catches me at the wrong time it’ll make me want to die. Anything romantic is fine I guess if it’s not suggestive (Zagreus/Thanatos/Megaera polycule is okay 👍 And any of those separately)
I write and very very occasionally do art but am unlikely to post anything and like all my other blogs this will be mostly reblogs. I’ll probably try out a tagging system because I keep losing everything
I may liveblog things here sometimes though
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skull-earring · 7 months ago
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I made such a mistake buying Hades oh my god. New hyperfixation hit me like a truck I think
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