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earlgreydream · 3 years ago

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training.

| stucky x reader | smut | fluff |

anon requested. plz write a squirting fic with stucky & Bucky holds the reader down

dom!stucky helping you train & things get steamy

“Y/N, let’s go,” Steve called, watching you stretch in the corner of the gym. You nodded, bouncing to your feet and walking up to the mat in the center of the room.

The training room was empty, barring you, Steve, and Bucky. School kept you busy during the day, leaving you to practice your fighting and defense at night. You didn’t mind, preferring to have the gym to yourself, able to train privately with your two super-soldier boyfriends.

“Driving me crazy watching you stretch like that,” Bucky stated, taking your hand and helping you onto the sparring mat.

Both boys struggled to keep their eyes off of you when you showed up to train in tiny spandex shorts and a sports bra. It was easier to move that way, and you needed all the help you could get during their intense sessions. Both men were shirtless, and your adrenaline was pulsing with sexual energy. You pushed the impure thoughts out of your head, trying to focus so you didn’t get the life beaten out of you.

Steve watched as you practiced dodging hits from Bucky, moving swiftly out of the way of the blows. He tried to grab you, and you dropped low, managing to sweep him off of his feet by grabbing his ankle and yanking it out from under him.

“Damn,” Steve smirked at you proudly, and you jumped on top of Bucky, shoving him back down before he could get up.

“Think you’re so fucking smooth?” Bucky asked, flipping the two of you over, pinning you down to the mat. The surface was cold against your back, and amusement flashed in his silver eyes, along with lust, his eyes trailing down your body. He loved pinning you below him, proving that your body would bend to his will, even during your training. Steve adjusted himself, knowing he couldn’t get this hard while you worked, because he was up to work with you next.

You used the instant of Bucky’s distraction to bring your knee up to his abdomen. He shouted, loosening his grip on you, unintentionally allowing you to slip out from under him. You kicked him down, standing on top of his back with a pleased grin.

“How was that, Captain?” you asked Steve cheekily.

“Very good, honey,” he tried not to laugh.

Bucky knocked you off, and you fell hard against the mat.

“Hey! You’re not allowed to be mad that I’m doing well!” you cried, the breath knocked out of you from the impact.

He slapped your ass, not caring that you were succeeding in combat training. You shrieked at the sting that spread through your skin, and you gave Bucky a vicious look. You were annoyed at how aroused you were getting, at the action certainly didn’t help.

“Buck, that’s enough.”

Steve walked over, helping you to your feet. You thanked him, giving Bucky another scathing look.

“Hey, cut the attitude. Go run,” Steve said, pointing to the padded track that stretched around the perimeter of the gym. You sighed but obeyed, jogging around the room.

“Fuck, she’s going to kill me,” Bucky whispered, watching your body bounce as you ran. Steve agreed, definitely admiring your ass. You could feel their heated gazes, and it made you slick between your thighs. You had to train, but you were quickly going hungry for sex.

You joined them once you finished your lap, sweat giving your skin a sheen. Bucky whistled at you, and you couldn’t stop the laugh from escaping your lips.

“Come here,” you said, pulling him into a kiss. You were startled about how starved it was, his tongue instantly pushing into your mouth. He gripped your ass in his hands, and Steve scolded the two of you.

You boxed with Steve, doing the drills that Bucky shouted out at you. Your breathing increased, your chest rising and falling quickly and your body bouncing on the mat as you delivered punches and kicks to the pads he held.

The boys didn’t care as you grew tired, and you wrestled with Bucky, rolling around on the mat. Your thighs went around his head as you tried to roll the two of you over, but he knocked you down, his hands pinning you to the mat as he buried his face between your legs.

“I want to fuck you so damn bad,” he growled into the spandex, making you moan with need, unable to hide it any longer.

“Please, Bucky,” you begged.

“Sergeant, to you. We’re still training,” Steve corrected, your eyes rolling back at the command.

Your hips were shoved to the ground, and Bucky climbed over you, kissing up your bare torso.

“Doll, you wanted to get fucked, didn’t you? Wearing the one you know I like,” he growled, nipping at you through the sports bra that held you in place.

“Yes, Sergeant,” you answered, trying to roll your hips up into his.

Bucky pulled down the zipper with his teeth, freeing you as the sports bra fell open. Steve swore, tossing his sweats off, kneeling down behind your head.

Bucky couldn’t keep his hands from your chest, tugging at your nipples and making you squeal and writhe under him.

“Want your Captain to fuck your mouth?” Bucky asked, smirking at you.

“Yes, please!” You parted your lips, making Steve laugh darkly and cradle your head in his large hands.

“So needy, honey. You’re so horny you’ll take dick anywhere you can get it, huh?” Steve teased, and you felt yourself growing even more soaked.

You moaned as he fucked into your mouth, burying himself in your throat. Steve groaned as you opened your jaw, running your tongue along the veins of his cock.

“Fuck,” he swore, his blonde head falling back. He struggled not to slam into your throat, being careful as he rolled forward steadily.

You jolted as Bucky lightly bit down on your soft skin, delighting in the sound you made. He let off you, kneeling between your legs and pulling the spandex from your hips.

“She’s fucking soaked, Stevie,” he gasped, running his fingers through your glistening slit.

“All that from being thrown around by us?” Steve asked, knowing very well you couldn’t answer with your mouth still full of him.

Bucky held your thighs open before his tongue replaced your fingers, the muscle dragging through your folds and pushing inside of you with shallow thrusts. You moaned around Steve, making the soldier’s hips stutter.

Bucky ate you out, holding your hips still and pressing his tongue flat against your cunt, making you squeal around Steve.

“I’m going to come, honey,” Steve’s voice was deep and raspy, sending heat shuddering through you.

You gripped his thighs on either side of your head as he spilled down your throat, filling your mouth with his taste. You swallowed all of it, your eyes glassy as you gazed up at him.

“So good for your Captain,” he praised you, leaning down to press a heady kiss to your lips.

“Bucky!” You yelled as you came, gushing onto his chin, gasping as he lapped it all up.

“You look so hot when you come, doll,” Bucky wiped his mouth, letting you catch your breath.

You started to get up, but Steve stopped you, his hand wrapping around your neck and pulling you into a messy makeout session, distracting you as Bucky pried your legs back open.

Steve laid you back down on the mat, groping your tits as Bucky knelt between your thighs.

“Beg, doll,” Bucky smirked, brushing his tip against your clit, through your folds, teasing you.

“Please fuck me, Sergeant. I need to feel you in my pussy,” you whined, biting your lip and arching your back off of the floor. Steve smirked as you shuddered under his touch.

He rolled forward into you, stretching you out and satiating your throbbing need to be filled. Pleasure erupted through your body and you moaned, pushing your hips against his, trying to pull him deeper inside of you.

The air was thick and sexually charged. You were sensitive from your first orgasm, and you shuddered as Bucky’s tip brushed against your g-spot. The pressure was quickly rebuilding in your belly, and you were dangerously close to a second orgasm as Bucky rocked steadily into your pussy, encouraged by Steve’s teasing hands.

“I’m close, I can’t hold it,” you warned, unable to fight it off.

“You’re going to wait until we tell you, doll,” Bucky ordered, squeezing your thighs. Tears threatened to fall as you tried to hold back, and a choked shriek escaped you as he came inside of you, riding out his own orgasm with shallow thrusts, painting the inside of your velvet walls with his release.

“Thank you, Sergeant,” you squeezed his wrist, your vision blurring.

“Go ahead,” Steve granted you permission, and the pressure gave way, sending a powerful orgasm rushing through you. Your legs were shaky under Bucky’s hands, all of your nerves sparking like a live wire. Tears slid from your eyes, and Steve kissed them off your cheeks.

“You look so gorgeous when you fell apart, honey, all spread open and getting fucked here on the floor,” his deep voice shot down your spine and settled in your cunt. Bucky felt your walls seize around him at Steve’s lewd words rolling from his lips.

“Does it turn you on to hear Steve tell you filthy things?” Bucky asked, his gaze alerting you that he demanded an answer.

“Yes!” you confessed, blushing.

There was no reason to be embarrassed about it, especially given what you were doing. They reveled in seeing you so shy, tearing your walls down as they took turns fucking the doubt from your mind. Neither of the boys teased you to shame you, they ate up your confidence in your sexuality, and they wanted to know how best to please you. Despite their dominance over you, they did everything for you, striving to extract as much pleasure from you as possible.

And fuck, they were so good at it.

You’d never experienced anything like the two of them, and any relationship or sex that predated them was rendered completely irrelevant. They blew your mind over and over again, taking you to heights of pleasure you had no idea were even possible.

“I know you have another one in you, doll,” Bucky grinned, and you blushed, shaking your head.

“I’ve already come twice-”

“You can do it again, it’ll feel so good, I promise,” Steve kissed you, dragging you back onto his lap. He pushed his legs between yours, spreading you open on top of his body.

You were hypersensitive already, and out of breath from the training and sex with the men who had superhuman stamina. Steve’s fingers pushed inside of you, curling forward and brushing your spongey walls, making you writhe on his lap. Bucky’s lips caught yours, tasting Steve still on your tongue. You moaned into his mouth as Steve fingered you quickly, lewd noises filling the gym as his fingers slid in and out of your pussy, slick from both yours and Bucky’s come. Bucky’s hand went between you, rubbing your clit as Steve pushed two fingers deep inside of you. He leaned back on his heels, watching you squirm and beg incoherently for more.

“Captain!” you shrieked, about to snap.

White-hot euphoria burned through you like fire, searing everything inside of you and swirling in your clit. You screamed and pulled on Steve’s hair as it shattered, electricity sparking through every inch of your skin. You squirted all over their hands and the padding below you, soaking everything between your legs. You panted, trying to draw air into your lungs and recover from the intensity, melting back into Steve’s arms.

“That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life,” Bucky praised you, making your cheeks rosy. You’d never done that before, and you were suddenly shy around them, hiding your face.

“You alright, baby? That was a lot, huh?” Steve chuckled softly, kissing your cheek and hugging you tightly against him.

“Yes, holy shit,” you swore, closing your legs and curling up into Steve.

Your legs were still trembling slightly, even once they’d cleaned you up enough to slide your shorts back up your legs and rezipping your bra so you could walk through Stark Tower back to your room.

“You did great, doll.” Bucky kissed your cheek before following you back to your room, turning on the shower as Steve set you down.

“I’m not letting you shower with me, I can’t go another round, and I know you two. Go shower and come back,” you laughed, pushing them out of your bathroom.

You got clean, sitting on the tiled seat in your shower, still weak on your feet. Once the water started to go cold, you got out and dried off. You searched through your things, pulling a clean pair of cotton shorts on your legs and Bucky’s NASA hoodie, letting the fabric swallow you up. You wrapped your arms around yourself, breathing in Bucky’s scent that lingered on his clothes, like sandalwood and lemons. It instantly relaxed you, taking the edge off of your raw nerves.

Your muscles were a little sore, and you grabbed a bottle of lotion from your dresser. The door opened and Steve and Bucky entered, Steve immediately going to stretch out on your bed. Bucky smiled when he saw you in his hoodie, and he hugged you from behind, kissing the back of your head.

“Do you mind?” you asked, handing him the bottle.

“Of course not.”

You sat on the bed and Bucky massaged the lotion into your muscles, patiently listening to you talk about your day. Steve’s soft blue eyes never left yours, playing with your fingers, his head resting in your lap.

“Can we skip training tomorrow? I’m exhausted,” you asked, and Bucky smirked.

“Yeah, I suppose you can have one day off.”

“So generous,” you giggled, leaning into his side as he settled down next to you.

“We can always work out another way,” Steve suggested teasingly.

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catxsnow · 4 years ago

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FREE FALLING K.K.

Request: Okay some anons were simping over kon now I wanna simp~ y/n is an archer on the teen Titans , and she tends to be shy and on the reserved side, so when kon flirts she just dismisses him every time, until another guy ( superhero or civilian, you choose ) gets flirty and he gets made protective/jealous.

Warning: fluff

A/N: I’m slowly running out of already written fics and my motivation has not come back yet. This hiatus may be lasting longer than I thought.

Word Count: 2.3k

There was nothing wrong with a little bit of flirting within the team. It kept the bond of teammates close and always kept everyone on their toes. The dynamic on the Teen Titans was always one of ups and downs. There was such an entanglement of potential relationships that everyone got confused as to what was going on.

Most of that confusion stemmed from Conner Kent, Superboy as the team knew him as. His temporary relationship with Cassie had surprised everyone. He flirted with nearly everyone on the team, Tim, Kori, you. Kon's endless flirting began the day Oliver dropped you off at the Titans Tower and left you there for good.

Kon was frustrating in the sense that his flirtation with you was nonstop. From the moment you woke up to the moment you went back to sleep, it seemed that his only mission was to get you flustered. It didn't seem that he knew that you were bothered by his comments.

Tim always scolded Kon for his behaviour. After Cassie, it was clear that relationships among teammates was dangerous. Not to mention that it was pretty obvious of your blatant ignorance of his attempts. He continued to try nonetheless - one day you would crack for him, one day.

"Good morning, sweetheart." Kon was never an early riser. At the farm, he always got up early for chores, so at the tower he took every chance to sleep in. When he started to learn that you got up early, so did he. There was always the tired look in her eyes that he admired.

Kon found you down at the range. Though your skills were nowhere near Oliver, or even Roy, you put up a good fight just as much as everyone else on this team. The early hours were always dedicated to practice, and unfortunately, Kon figured that out pretty quickly.

You were so concentrated on the shot, you hadn't heard Kon's heavy footsteps join you. The shot went askew, completely missing the target. Your body tensed with frustration at him.

"Whoops, sorry babe. Didn't realize my good looks distracted you so much," Kon grinned. You refused to show him his words got you flustered. Instead, you grabbed another arrow. Babe. It slipped so smoothly off his tongue that it forced a chill down your spine.

"It's fine, Superboy," you assured him - though you were still angered at him for screwing around with your training once again. Kon leaned against the rack that held your bows. His arms rested on the top, head on his hands. His curls were still a mess from his sleep last night.

You felt your arm shake for a split second. His eyes watching your every move, waiting for you to make the perfect shot just as you always did. There was a lot of pressure on you with his gaze. You took a breath before releasing the arrow, watching as it hit dead center of the target. It was easy, hitting a non-moving target like this. Kon was the one making it difficult.

"Superboy?" He cocked an eyebrow. "We aren't on a mission babe, you can call me Kon you know. I'd prefer it." Of course he would, he loved the sound of his name passing your lips. It was almost angelic. "You know-"

"(Y/N), Conner," Tim's head popped into the training room before Kon could tell you what he wanted. His chest fell with a disappointed sigh. "Nightwing and Flash are here."

"Is there something wrong?" You asked. They rarely showed up out of the blue without there being a reason. Usually, that reason meant that people were in trouble and lives were at stake. Tim relieved your stress with a simple shake of his head. He gestured for the both of you to follow him. Kon stuck his hand out for you to hand over the bow so he could hang it up on the rack he leaned on.

A small smile cracked as your hand brushed against his. It was cheesy, ridiculously so, but his touch was so warm and inviting even if it was just for a brief second. Kon placed the bow down and followed you and Tim out of the room. Just as Robin said, his older brother and his friend were with the others in the meeting room.

Wally's presence always lightened the room. There was something about the smile that resided on him that managed to put everyone in a good mood. It always amplified whenever Dick was at his side. The two were a dynamic pair, and when they did stop by the tower without underlying business, it was always a good time.

There were a few times that you had been alone in the tower. Tim back to Gotham, Kon and Cassie to their own homes as well. It left you and Bart with no one but yourselves to keep each other company. In those times, Wally would sometimes make an appearance. The speedsters would train but by the end of the night you would all be piling high with snacks.

As you entered the room, Wally waved at you and that smile that everyone looked forward to was released. Before you could wave back, a heavy arm was thrown across your shoulder. Kon was at your side. It wasn't the first time he had completely invaded your bubble and it surely wouldn't be the last.

"Flash, Nightwing," he greeted. You could feel the heat crawling up your neck with Kon's side pressed against yours. Hopefully, he, nor any of your other teammates, noticed your state. It was beyond annoying that he could get you like this. "What's the visit for this time? Scolding us for saving the day again?"

He dropped his arm from your shoulders but remained close to you. Kryptonians must have ran warm because you could still feel the lingering heat of his body against you.

"JL wanted an update, figured we could stop in," Wally answered. He sped over to your side and placed a hand over your ear so no one else could hear. "And Boy Wonder over there is in trouble with the Bats." Clearly, Kon heard what the speedster had to say and let out a laugh. What could Tim have done to get himself in trouble?

"Doesn't explain why you came," you joked. Wally had mimicked Kon's arm-over-the-shoulder.

"Wanted to come see you, of course," Wally grinned. His arm suddenly locked around your neck and his knuckles rubbed into your head. You struggled to pull him off you. Finally, you had managed to hook his ankle and make him fall flat on his back. "Look at that, you're making me lose my breath."

The laughter among teammates emitted from everyone besides Kon. He had an annoyed look on his face from the interaction between you and Wally, though he said nothing about it. Wally sped back up, a slight tinge of pink to his cheeks after the interaction.

Kon watched in frustration as Wally dragged you into the kitchen, likely to find himself a snack or two. Your laughs always put a bit of joy in him, but now? Hearing you laugh because of Wally? Each sound was like a knife to the heart. Pure jealously ran through him - why was it that he could never make you laugh like that?

"Calm down, Kon," Tim stood by his side. It was clear to anyone, even when they weren't raised by the great Batman, that Kon was incredibly jealous of Wally. It was only Tim that decided to speak up. "There's nothing between them. No need to be jealous."

"I'm not," Kon snapped. His reaction was enough to prove that he was in fact jealous. He let out a huff of air before walking away from his best friend. Unfortunately, the further he got from Tim, the closer he got to you and Wally just to hear the sound of your laughter once more. His chest tightened with anger.

It wasn't at Wally, nor you. It was at himself for not being able to get you out of your comfort zone as the speedster could. Since joining this team it seemed he was the only one that you remained shy and nervous around. What was wrong with him to make you feel that way?

What was wrong with him that made you not want to spend time with him?

"There you are."

Kon disappeared shortly after you left with Wally (and eventually Bart who couldn't stay away at the smell of food). Tim was with Dick all afternoon and Cassie spent her time training with Kori. Kon was nowhere to be found, and you couldn't figure out why he felt the need to leave his friends.

You searched the whole building for him, starting down at the training grounds and working your way all the way up to the roof of the buildings. He was sitting on the edge, legs dangling as the last rays of the sun fell from the sky.

Kon folded into himself: shoulders hunched, head hung low. He perked up at the sound of your voice - even more so when he saw that you were alone. You sat next to him and matched his sitting position.

"Were you up here all day?" You asked. Kon nodded, though he remained silent. It wasn't like him to skip out on a pickup line or make some sort of comment. In fact, it wasn't like him to just disappear the whole day either. He looked upset about something. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Kon was a horrible liar. You raised your eyebrows at him, indicating that you knew he was lying through his teeth. He sighed, leaning back so his palms pressed into the rough roofing. The golden rays illuminated him, creating an aura around him that made him seem godly. You wanted to reach out to him, but contained yourself.

The sunset was beautiful enough as it was, but to add Kon's beauty on top of that? Your heart was beating so fast you were sure that Kon's super hearing had him concerned.

"You don't have to lie around me, you know," You nudged his side. Kon sighed once more. He didn't want to tell you the truth, but he felt terrible for lying and making you worry. You were quick to notice a pink tinge on his cheeks. It was a turn of events, usually you were the one flustered around him. The hue looked pleasant on him.

"I'm sorry," he suddenly apologized, "I... Well, I guess..." Kon fumbled over his words. The pink on his cheeks grew brighter, even as he tried to hide it from you. There was never a day you thought you would get to see the great Superboy flushed like this. He was always the confident one. "Fuck."

Kon's hand grasped your cheeks. His split moment of hesitance made you realize exactly what he was about to do. Whether it be frozen in fear or excitement, you didn't try to move. The closer he got the harder your heartbeat until the point as if it felt like you were going to burst. The moment Kon's lips were on yours it felt as if it stopped altogether.

His kiss was soft, hesitant - nothing like the facade he always had up. Kon was delicate with you, as if he was worried he was going to break you with just a touch. Your lips moved against his with far more confidence than you had ever shown him before. You didn't realize how badly you craved for his taste until the moment you had it.

He pulled away only for a second, waiting to see if you were wanting him to quit completely. With no sign of regret, Kon pulled you in for a rushed kiss. His lips needy against yours, making up for the lost time that he wasted months on. It was only when his lungs felt like they were going to combust did he give you space.

"I-" His palm remained against the curve of your neck and jaw, thumb swiping against your cheekbone. "I was jealous today, of Wally. I've never heard you laugh so hard when you're with him and I wanted that. I'm sorry."

"You have no reason to be sorry, Superboy," you assured him. He couldn't stop his feelings, just as you couldn't deny them anymore. "I-I'm sorry I was always so distant with you. I... I guess I was too scared to admit my feelings for you."

Kon was ready to spill his heart out to you. He knew that once he started gushing about how much he adored you, he wouldn't be able to stop. Instead, he leaned into you again, smiling into your kiss with pure excitement.

His legs that dangled off the edge pushed against the siding of the building and pulling you along with him. A strangled scream ripped from your throat as the two of you free fell in the darkening sky. Kon's arm wrapped around your waist and he held you flush against his body.

Your head was buried into the crook of his neck until realizing that you were no longer falling but floating. The grip on his shirt loosened and you looked up to appreciate the new view he gave you.

Kon brushed his lips against yours once more, just to grab your attention. "Don't worry babe, I've got you. There's no need to worry whenever you're with me."

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wolken-himmel · 3 years ago

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In which Cater takes (Y/n) on a date to the newly opened amusement park, using the need to review the place as an excuse to drag her along.

An evening of eating food and winning prizes... one that might end with a confession under a night sky lit by fireworks.

Request by anon.

"Can we buy some cotton candy, Cater?"

The sweet air of sugar and salty smell of frying oil filled your nostrils, causing your stomach to become vocal about the hunger those smells induced. Your steps through the crowds became quicker and wider, your hand that held onto Cater's almost being separated with how quickly you were walking.

Cater let out a little chuckle at your eagerness and the way you were heading straight for the cotton candy stall at the amusement park. The other hand that didn't hold onto yours tightly was busy snapping pictures of all the attractions and stalls, the visitors and the mascots. The crowds roaming the streets were thick and there was a lot of bumping against strangers, which is why you had insisted on holding his hand — how could he have defeated such logic?

"Sure!" Cater chirped as he snapped a picture of your intertwined hands. "Let's get you some cotton candy!"

You shot him a grateful smile, which he made sure to photograph with his phone. "I can't wait!" you chirped, getting into the queue and impatiently waiting for your turn to come. Although there no longer was any need to hold hands, you still wouldn't unwrap your fingers from his, and Cater didn't really mind, either.

Cater had to admit that spending time with you at this new amusement park was really fun; taking you with him for reviewing this place really had been the right decision.

You never really stopped talking about all the fun things one could do around here, unable to wait to go on a lot of these rides yourself. Cater always made sure to nod along, humming with a silly smile on his lips. His mind didn't register what you said, yet the way your sweet voice filled his ears made him lose himself as he listened to you talk.

Eventually, you yanked him out of his daydreams by tugging at his arm, pulling him to the vendor, who was patiently waiting for you to order.

Cater immediately shot the stall owner a big grin. "One cotton candy for my little diamond, please!" he yelled, trying to drown out the loud sounds of fireworks going off in the background.

"Of course!" the stall owner shouted back. "Would your girlfriend like it in a bucket or on a stick?"

You had been so busy staring at the fireworks lighting up the starry night sky that the vendor's words took you by surprise. Eyes widening in horror, you snapped your back towards her and choked out, "G-Girlfriend?" The vendor nodded, a little smile on her lips at how your cheeks reddened in embarrassment. Cater didn't really react, acting like he was busy with his phone. You gave his hand a little squeeze before you shot the stall owner an awkward smile. "Well, I'll take it on a stick, please."

She nodded, handing you the cotton candy Cater had ordered for you. "Here you go."

"Thank you, ma'am!" you retorted while taking the stick out of her hands, your eyes wide in excitement at tasting the cotton candy. Shooting her one last smile, you dragged a busy Cater away from the stall and continued your merry way through the street, looking at the various rides and firework in the sky. You nibbled on your cotton candy, but felt bad that you couldn't share with Cater because of his dislike for sweets. Shooting him a sheepish smile, you finished your cotton candy and threw the stick into a nearby trash bin. "Let's go buy you something salty now, alright?"

Cater briefly looked up from his phone screen to face you, his eyes wide in surprise. "You remember?" he asked, in utter awe.

You tilted your head to the side, wondering why he was so taken aback by you remembering his preferences. "That you don't like sweets?" you asked, to which he nodded slowly. A smile broke out on your face, and you began to nod vigorously. "Of course I do. You preferring tarts with oyster sauce inside will never leave my mind, Cater."

His cheeks grew a little red as he tried to avert his eyes to his phone screen again, yet he couldn't focus on whatever was happening on MagiCam if you continued to stare at him like that. "Oh— hehe..." he eventually stuttered out, always avoiding your gaze. His grip on his phone tightened, and a forced smile appeared on his lips. "I'm not hungry, (Y/n). Besides, I couldn't take pictures for my MagiCam review if I had food in my hands."

"Don't worry!" you chirped while dragging him over to a stall selling fries. "I can feed you."

"Woah—" Cater once again was genuinely taken aback by your offer, which sounded like something only couples would do — which you weren't, right? Nonetheless, a sheepish smile broke out on his face as he raised his gaze from his phone to meet your eyes again. "You're so nice, (Y/n)!" he cried out while his heart began to quicken its pace involuntarily.

"Of course!" You shot him one last smile before turning to the vendor of the stall to order a portion of fries for your friend.

"So..." you said while Cater was already busy snapping pictures of the streaming fries, "would you like your fries with paprika powder or without?"

"With, of course!"

"Yes~!" You turned to the stall owner and chirped, "One order of fries, please!"

The stall owner hummed and quickly fished fries out of the oil and threw them into a paper container. Then, he handed them to you while you in return gave him the needed Madol. "Two forks to share with your boyfriend?" he asked nonchalantly as he neatly put the Madol into the register.

Cater let out a few chuckles. "Hehe, boyfriend."

While he seemed fairly unaffected, you were quivering in your shoes due to the embarrassment that flooded your veins and made your cheeks light up in a bright red. "N-No thanks," you stuttered out, your eyebrows furrowed as you forced out a smile. "One fork will be alright."

The stall owner nodded and handed you your order with an amused smile on his lips.

"Hmm—" Cater's mouth started to water at the sight of the still steaming food. He raised his phone, so that the lense was focused on your face while he asked, "Could you give me a fry?"

You nodded and picked up a fry with the fork that had come along with the order. "Say ah!" you chimed as you raised the fork to his lips; in that exact moment, Cater snapped a picture, which he wouldn't post on MagiCam but would keep for his own pleasure. Then, he chomped down on the wooden fork.

"Oh, aren't you an adorable couple?" the stall owner commented, a silly smile on his lips.

Another surprised squeak escaped your lips, and you almost dropped the fork to the ground. Barely catching yourself again, you muttered, "Uh— thank you, sir..." The stall owner shot you a kind smile as you grabbed Cater's hand again and pulled him away. "We should go."

You didn't get far: Two Caters appeared in front of you and blocked your way.

"(Y/n), our little diamond!" the two identical looking males chirped happily as they opened their mouths, demanding to be fed fries, too. Although you obeyed their wishes and gave them each a few fries, you stilled looked a little bit suspicious when you turned to the original Cater, demanding an explanation.

"Wait, you let your clones run around?"

"Of course." The original Cater pinched your cheek while chewing on the fry you just had fed him. Then, he tilted your face, so that your eyes lay on the giant plushie the left Cater held in his arms — it was only slightly smaller than you! The right Cater let out a few chuckles, grinning at the way your eyes lit up in delight. "They said they wanted to win you a prize from one of those stalls! How could I deny them?"

"Here! We won this for you!" one of the clones announced as the other handed you the (F/c) prize. "A giant teddy bear that says, 'I love you,' if you press this button."

Your eyes were watering with how grateful and honoured you felt for receiving such an amazing gift from the Caters. "Woah, this is so adorable!" you breathed out as you eagerly took the plushie out of his hands, quickly pulling the clone down for a quick peck on his cheek. A proud grin spread on his lips while the others stared at him in envy. "Thank you so much— uhm... Caters."

"Always!" the two clones yelled out happily before they disappeared, leaving only the original Cater who stood beside you.

You threw the empty paper container into a nearby trash bin before turning your attention to your ginger-haired friend again. Summoning all your courage, you squeaked out, "Hey, Cater."

He hummed, snapping a picture of your face. "Yes?"

"It's funny how everyone says we're cute as a couple," you asked while cuddling the teddy bear close to you, "right?"

Cater seemed surprised by your question, not having anticipated you to ask something that... daring and straightforward. Letting out a few awkward chuckles, he trailed off, "Yes... very much so..."

"I think we'd be a cute couple, too," you finally whispered under your breath, your voice barely audible due to the loud fireworks zooming up into the sky and exploding there.

"You... You think so?" Cater asked, his voice cracking although he tried his best to appear composed and calm. Finally for once, he put his phone away and shot you a serious look. "I'm not sure if I'd be a good boyfriend. I've never had any longterm friendship or relationships before."

"Well—" You took both his hands into yours while looking into his eyes so lovingly that Cater felt his knees grow weak. "We can always learn together."

He was at a loss for words at your proposition; being together with him would surely not be easy, but you would be willing to try nonetheless? That notion made butterflies go off in his stomach, and he suddenly felt really light-headed. "You'd be ready to try it out?" he asked, his voice lacking the cheeriness and energy it usually possessed.

You nodded, bringing your face closer to his. "Yes, of course, Cater."

"Then... Then I suppose I could try and stay committed, too..." he retorted, letting his eyes flutter close as he anticipated your lips to finally meet. "I really like you, (Y/n)."

"I love you, too, Cater..." Then, you planted your lips onto his, sharing a sweet kiss with Cater.

Cater was the first one to pull away, a giant grin on his lips as he stared at his phone screen. "That made for a perfect picture!" he cried out happily while you merely eyed him with confused eyes, not realising he had been able to snap a picture of you two kissing with the fireworks going off in the background. The third-year shot you a little smile. "Don't worry, I won't post this— it's just going to be a happy memory for me..."

A playful smile made its way to your lips, and you teasingly shook your head. "Ah... Cater, you'll never change."

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twst x you #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #reader insert #y/n #disney twst #cater diamond #cater diamond x reader #cater x reader #twst cater #twst cater diamond #twst cater x reader #twisted wonderland cater #female reader

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mrpenguinpants · 4 years ago

Text

Diluc: Comfort HCs

Oh no worries anon! We’re getting through everything and I can just see the top. I’m not sure if people saw it - probably not - but my entire blog has devolved into “See this genshin character? Animal.” and I refuse to have another cat character so I’m making Diluc a hawk.

Apparently (maybe) Diluc’s bird is a nightingale [voicelines]. But I don’t really see Diluc the kind of guy to serenade you at night in secret because your father doesn’t approve of your marriage.

---

Today’s appreciation post goes to fulltimeventisimp. Tumblr throws a goddamn fit when I try to tag people (even though I literally have a tag list but that’s apparently not good enough) so I hope you see this^^ You’ve been so nice and caring to me I feel so soft 😭 and I hope you’re doing alright! I’m remembering to take breaks and rest 💕💕

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Semi Part 1: Relationship HCs [I would read this just for the last point]

Diluc Ver: Jealous HCs

[Masterlist]

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[taglist] <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@hanniejji @mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @twistedsunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz

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Diluc: Comfort HCs

Diluc has always had either an aloof or professional persona based on who he needed to talk to. In both cases, no matter the subject or how Diluc talked, there would always be some sort of forced distance so no one would mistaken it as familiarity or friendliness. There were only a two cases where he felt comfortable and those were with close friends and his staff. The third case being Kaeya but Diluc prefers to not acknowledge him and stashes that folder away. Even with friend’s such as Jean or Elzer, he could never really relax and let his true feelings slip until you burst into his life. Literally. “An unexpected outcome of an experiment,” is what Albedo had told him but regardless, since you entered his life he’s let himself regress into his younger days and let himself take for once.

Maybe that was why you had gotten so used to Diluc’s touched starved self that, when it was suddenly gone, you were feeling uneasy. Lately Diluc seemed to be spending longer hours at his desk or working at the tavern. You knew that he was just busy and there wasn’t any underhanded reasoning behind it, Diluc wasn’t that kind of guy. But did he seriously have to spend every waking moment, day or night, talking to the same people? When was the last time you saw him for more than two minutes? Diluc isn’t a big fan of idle talking but would it seriously hurt just to catch up? You didn’t even get together to have your weekly chess matches too.

You didn’t consider yourself a very clingy person and you knew what a relationship with Diluc was going to be like so why were you getting so bothered? You decided to take the situation in your hands and go visit him at the tavern only to see him so busy at work. It both made you a bit huffy, you wanted to storm in there and drag the man away from his work so he could stop trying to speed run life - not like that would ever happen because the second hand embarrassment would make you dissolve into the ground and you could never show your face to Diluc if you actually did that - but also making you more upset. Here he was, working and running his business, and you couldn’t go at least a couple weeks without seeing him. You ended up turning around and going home to scream into your pillow and sleep the heavy feeling away.

Your inner turmoil seemed to seep out into the open that Kaeya felt the need to bring it up. As much as Diluc dislikes Kaeya around you, he really does care about you and he still does owe you for the troubles he gave you when you first started going out with Diluc. He catches you while you’re off running errands and manages to coax you into getting some lunch with him. You’ve been bottling up your feelings so much that when Kaeya shows some concern you let it all pour out. At this point you don’t care if it’s Kaeya of all people you’re confessing your feelings to, you just want to get it off your chest because the man you’re in love with doesn’t seem to notice you’re actually there and it’s making you feel insecure about yourself. Kaeya gives you a sympathetic smile and tells you not to worry about it, he’ll personally knock some sense into Diluc.

Diluc’s been hard at work on another possible Fatui plan and business with the winery that he can’t help but feel that he was missing something. Was he overlooking something? He had planned this for a while so everything should be perfect. It wasn’t until Kaeya himself had to walk in, press his hand on the tavern counter, and call him an idiot that he realizes that he had been so wrapped up in his work and personal duties that he completely neglected you. He quickly passes his duties to Charles with a quick apology, throws his coat on, gives Kaeya a very strained thank you, and he’s out the door to find you. He’s already lost so much so he’ll be damned if he looses you. Not right now.

You gave him the key to your home after a few months of being together, in case his he needed to temporarily hide should his night activities get the best of him. He’s already at your door in seconds as he quickly unlocks and steps in.

“Beloved?” he softly calls out to not accidently scare you but he receives no reply. It’s dark inside but he can see your shoes at the door so he knows you’re inside somewhere. He softly closes and locks the door as he hangs his coat up. Carefully running a hand down the fabric and beside your coat as he looks around your small home. He’s always felt it was warm even when you weren’t here. The “home” he has will always be the place he grew up in but after everything that’s happened, he feels a bit alienated in there so he always appreciated that you lent him a key.

He catches the sound of some shuffling and follows the sound to see you under your blankets. He breathes a quick sigh of relief that you weren’t in any danger as he carefully circles around your bed before gently placing a hand on your back. He’s never been good at words or communicating his feelings so he’s at a bit of a standstill. Despite his reputation of being a nobleman of high esteem, you’re his first serious relationship. As far as he’s concerned you’re going to be his only relationship for that matter.

“I...apologize for my recent behaviour. It was never my intention to hurt you. I ended up letting myself get too blinded to see you were in pain and that was my fault. You don’t have to forgive me now but won’t you let me see your face my love?” he asked in all his awkward pose, put him in front of massive event and he’ll perform with flying colours but put him in front of his partner and he stumbles over his worlds like a new born fawn. But it seems to bring a small laugh from you as you peek from under the covers.

He smiles softly as he sees your ears flush pink. No matter how many times he calls you that you always get so shy, he adores it. But he can feel the guilt rise up in his chest, you’ve always been there to support and reassure him that he was doing everything right. That things were going to be okay when he re-took his father’s business and you would be with him every step of the way. So in the best and awkward way that Diluc can manage, he tells you this. By the time he’s done he can feel his own face start to pink but it’s made you feel better so it was worth it.

“Feeling better?” he smiles softly as you nod up at him as he lays down beside you, opening his arms in comfort, “Good, come here.”

You shuffle closer to him as he holds you. It’s been awhile since he’s held you like this and even without realizing it, he’s missed this. Just you and him together, basking in each other’s presence. No work that needed to be attended to. No Fatui trying to cause him any more trouble. It was a safe place and one he didn’t want to let go.

“What if we got married?”

There’s a beat of silence.

Then a thud.

You end up scrambling and falling off your bed face first. It’s a bit silent as you give off a pain groaned and climb back up and he can see your face has exploded red. He can almost see steam coming off as you try and nurse your nose. He blinks a bit at you taken aback as you stutter and scream into your hands as your brain seems to process what he just asked. You lift your face from your hands to look at him, somehow go even redder, and scream louder into your hands. He’s not sure if this is something he should be offended or concerned about but the weight he had been feeling earlier starts to fade away as a new and familiar feeling bubbles up. For the first time in half a month, Diluc let’s out a laugh as he tries to console you as you manage out a yes.

---

Gripping my writing hand why is no one stopping me? Diluc you’re literally acting like Childe rn. [if anyone is confused ahem Childe: Fiancé HCs (should be in my masterlist)]

Also, I continue to look away from the lore. Kaeya and Diluc are not on the best of terms but if they can have petty rich lady wine talk then Kaeya can walk in and call Diluc an idiot.

I was serious when I said that I researched hawk behaviours. I have learned the internet is horrible in telling me how hawks behave. But I did find this and I found this hilarious:

In the case of the red-tailed hawk, for example, the pair soar, screaming at each other; then the male dives at the female, who may roll in the air to present her claws to him in mock combat.

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remsmoonlight · 3 years ago

Text

— title : sweeter than candy

— word count : 3k words

— pairing : daryl dixon x reader

— summary : daryl is good at keeping things buried, but when the thought of words left unsaid do you both realise you have both been thinking the same thing about the other.

— warnings : mentions injuries, mentions of death

“ hi!! OMGG I came across your account and I’m obsessed with your writing!! I was wondering if you could write a Daryl Dixon x Reader following candy coated promises. Where Daryl has developed feelings for reader and following an errand run she gets injured and has to stay in bed. And Daryl find out! If that makes sense! Thank you!!! “

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* requests are open ! / requested by anon *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A deep desperation of yearning to be useful has led you to forget the risks involved in the interminable list of things that wish to cause you harm and are able to on such an intense scale. Luck had been on your side for so long, the illusion of life’s greatest ally refusing eluding your group for this long has proved itself to be just that — nothing more than an illusion. Once the burning of fear had dulled to nothing more than a dim ache, all you now feel is the one wound that does not run red yet pours into your veins as if it does. Stupidity. You’d volunteered yourself to go on a run with a small group, you’d spent enough time before the barbed wire fences, that you felt yourself becoming trapped.

A deep regret that would follow you even in death would be if any of your group would, too, meet their chapter’s end too soon by an immense error made on your part.

One thing that lays dormant in your mind, yet unable to completely fade is the fear of becoming too settled in safety. Spending too much time wrapped in a blanket of comfort that provides refuge from the grit the outside world revels in only hands you a vulnerability unsuitable for a reality submerged in death that roams freely. You don’t want to forget how to survive, you’ve come too far for that.

Part of that is how you have ended up being put to bedrest.

Your brain is yet to sort through and file the fleeting images that blend together into one disorientating image instead of a folder of what had occurred picture by picture. In one instance the group and yourself had been rummaging through the shelves that still contained some stock and the next, you’re rushing Maggie out of the way and pushing over shelves onto a growing horde of walkers. Though in the next second, your heart fell a thousand feet below as you lost your balance from the liquid coating the floor from where they’d tumbled and smashed to the floor, with the shards of glass forming a bewitching hazard.

“ your ankle still givin’ you trouble? “

The voice pulls you out of your thoughts, your sight settling on Maggie.

“ I don’t know if that hurts more or if these scratches do. “ You complain, your fingers lightly tug at the bandages that cover the fresh wounds that coat both of your palms, you take note of a number of loose fibres from the material.

“ Glass’ll do that to ‘ya. “ She chuckles, slowly moving into the room. She grabs a chair from the metal desk on the side and moves it next to your bed. “ I never got a chance to say thanks. “

“ You don’t have to worry about it. “ you refuse, shaking your head in turn.

“ I feel it’s my fault you’re like this. “

“ If we’re going to blame anyone, let’s blame my eyesight. I should have seen that wet patch. I should have been more careful. “ Frustration that burns bright in your reply as you turn away from her. Perhaps you’d spent too much time concealed from the harsh reality that constantly claws at you all as it takes refuge in a thick coat of a hauntingly isolating fog as it waits to drag you down with it further into the depths.

Mistakes are synonymous with fatalities now, one moment you’re on top of the world and in the next you can be in a free fall clutching the thin air as if it should be your saviour. Never have moments been promised, and this fact has never shone clearer than when the dead claimed the Earth for itself in an effort to void it of life wholly.

“ Hey, don’t be too hard on yourself. “ Maggie brings a hand forward to squeeze your shoulder momentarily, a comforting smile packaged with it easing some of the self loathing you could feel weaving itself into your being.

“ I don’t have much to do in here by myself, I have to keep myself entertained somehow. “

“ Well, I got an idea.. “ She trails off, a mischievous grin lifting her lips.

“ Maggie.. “ You utter a strict warning, already knowing where the conversation is about to lead.

She pauses for a second, laughter bouncing from grimy wall to grimy wall as she reacts to your cautionary tone, the light in her eyes bursting with the power of a thousand stars as it illuminates her features. Gratitude for the fleeting moments of rare normalcy that reflects a past occurrence in the old world runs deep, for a fraction of a second you can pretend you’re simply two friends joking about something goofy and foolish. For a minute, you’re not sheltering in a decrepit prison as you run from walkers, it’s a perfectly average afternoon.

“ You can’t tell me you don’t realise the way he looks your way now? I know you’ve been lookin’.. “

“ Okay, I think I'm tired now. “ You huff, shifting your body as to your ability with your injured ankle to face the wall that has an array of stains permanently painted into its surface.

Maggie only laughs in response, the sounds of steps dulling into nothing more than a ghost of an echo that informs you of her departure. Her words have pulled a string you’d not wished to pay attention to until it would be absolutely necessary. Needless to say that as much as you’d tried to bury the budding seeds of affection into the dirt, they’d only bloomed in force into a sea of colour with the evidence left to coat your fingertips for everyone to see.

Never had it been your intention to entertain this idea, when anything positive you’ve managed to seize with both hands can be ripped away so unexpectedly that you are left to nurse the empty space left behind of what once had been, grieving the idea of what could have been. However, there’s a dim curiosity that softly grows in size that envelopes around you, compelling a desire to reacquaint yourself with a human intimacy that fell to the back of the queue as the instinct to survive overwhelmed it. You don’t want to fear living, you don’t want to fear connecting to others on a deeper level, but you can’t help but simply.. be afraid.

Had you been in a different reality where the world continued on as normal, you would have probably fallen under his spell sooner.

Only after that one night you’d spent on watch together after he’d gone out of his way to bring you such a simple gift illuminated him in a way that your sight would often lean towards him. Many times you would find yourself analysing his actions on a deeper level, a coy warmth burying itself in the pit of your stomach when realising he’d included you in his thought process. From the chocolate bar, to you being the first person he’d check on if you needed anything before heading out on a run, to even the simple act of being there just to talk when life felt rough. A shape of one Daryl Dixon had been carved out by the man before either of you had realised.

A thunderous groan erupts from your lips as you turn onto your back to stare at the bunk on top with the realisation hitting you like a train threatening not to stop. You completely adore the Dixon.

About an hour away from the Prison Daryl secures the last of the rabbits caught, they swing side to side with each of his calculated movements. All Daryl finds himself wanting to do is to get back to the Prison, unable to push down the inclination of being back to the comfort the life behind those metal fences bring. It’s been a long day and all he’s interested in is getting back to those he holds dear.

That thought is when a fleeting frame of your face crosses his mind. Though he speaks not of which he truly wishes to share, the time you do spend together is something he cherishes more than a billionaire would with all of the money and rubies in the world if they had them in the palm of their hands. The darker side of him, the side that would always listen to those who preferred to taint his waters with their gloom, doesn’t allow the emotions constantly swirling within him to be touched by the burning sun rays as they are laid bare.

Heavy breaths fall without grace from his chest as he’s let through the gates, the stony expressions etched deeply into Carol’s features. No words need to be uttered to know it’s to do with you, Daryl doesn’t even allow a thought before he’s making his way on a path he has walked a thousand times and will walk a thousand times more. Creaks that echo in the darkening corridors that are not lit by the comforting flames of candles, the prison sounding as if it’s more in pain than it appears — still, he pays no care. His only goal is to check on you, he’d be unable to forgive himself if anything were to happen to you and he’d never be able to see you one last time. His brain conjures a number of horrific scenarios and tainted pictures to accompany them as it runs wild in a sea of dread.

The crossbow that had been secured in Daryl’s grip is lowered gently to the ground as he scans your form, a grateful sigh when he sees the slow movement of breathing.

He lowers himself into the chair next to your bed, trying to pinpoint the moment he’d stopped gazing upon your form as a friend to replace it with an aura of starlight — no longer did he see the colour of your eyes, but galaxies full of life and wonderment. Daryl allows himself a few seconds to chase each other by as he considers his next action, though deep down he’s aware his decision had already been chosen, as he threads his fingertips into yours to allow your warmth to comfort the panic that had been raging at the thought of your demise. His thumb traces a circle that is light enough to keep you tucked away in a slumber and as a comfort technique for him, where his mind allows him the time to placate himself.

Before he’s aware of it, the sky blends into itself once more as the pastel hues paint it with dashes of gold from the sun as dawn breaks and he’s hunched over with your hands still connected as one — the position held the entire night. Nothing can be heard in the confined space except a symphony of soft breathing from you both, the serenity only the early hours in which no one is awake brings comfort to the sleeping forms of you and Daryl.

A lengthy yawn escapes your lips as your eyes fight to open as they blink heavily to adjust to the light that invades as much as it can. The weight of something lying comfortably in your hands confuses you, as you distinctly remember there had been no pressure previously, the image before you washes your entire body with the icy grip of shock as you scan the trail leading from the hand within yours to the person it belongs to. Teeth grip your bottom lip as you bite it, attempting to battle away a smile that wishes to break free, you can’t believe the sense of humour that the universe has. Not an inch is moved by any part of your body, you seek to savour the intensity that such a simple action bears, your eyes positively glowing in adoration as a softer side to the man is revealed. Moments like these are few and far between, it leaves you wanting to bottle it up and pocket it forever.

A squeak of displeasure cuts through the serenity the early hours have worked so hard to cultivate as you inch your injured ankle to the side, clearly different positions prove to be the opposite of beneficial. The noise is enough to wake Daryl, his sudden alertness makes you doubt whether he’d truly been in a deep rest, but it’s the least of your worries as he realises he spent the night with his grip connected to yours. The warmth that brought a grounding comfort to your being now is a phantom touch you crave again once an eerily coolness now surrounds your empty palm.

“ ‘M sorry ‘bout that. “

“ There’s nothing to apologise for, Daryl. It was nice. “ You confess, your volume touches the air with a softness of a feather that descends to below in an elegant waltz.

“ Mhm. “ He turns his gaze to the floor, a thumb is chewed upon lightly as he’s wondering what he should say next. “ ‘Was worried about ‘ya as soon as I got back. “

“ Yeah, things just kinda happened. “

“ ‘Ya gotta watch y’self more out there. “ He scolds you with a light scorch of misplaced anger that almost lays eternally with him, a wave of anxiety at the thought of losing you are twins in a realm of horror he never wants to bear witness to.

“ I know, Daryl. “

Poisonous words full of fire and fury born out of dread of your existence in his life being cut short itch to burn your indifference to the situation. As he settles his gaze upon you, all he can see are the stolen moments you both have shared away from the group, where the person he’d created in his head built without even speaking to had been smashed into shards the more he got to know — you’re a fresh breath of peace in an unstable world that thrives on chaos. Quiet moments where all he can hear are the flickering embers of the fire are the memories he finds himself kicking for, all that lost time to never be recovered due to his preconceived notions.

“ Do ‘ya? “ Daryl shakes his head in frustration, his soul a pot of swirling emotions and thoughts blinding him to the point he can’t see straight. “ I can’t lose ‘ya. “

His voice is so low you barely hear it, your brows thread together in the slightest form as they’re unused to the window of Daryl’s vulnerability being so widely open.

“ You won’t. “ A faint twitch of your lips means well, you try to comfort the man. Your touch is delicate as your palm overlaps his with warmth.

“ Y’can’t promise that. “

“ But I can try! “ You argue lightly, a bounce in your response.

“ Forget it. “ Daryl sighs harshly, shaking his head as if to rid himself of the thoughts that run circles around his mind.

“ Daryl! Wait. “ Your voice falls on deaf ears as he’s already halfway towards the exit of the room, for a moment you forget your injury and a burning sensation flies with boundless wings up your protesting muscles and you land in a heap on the floor. The bandages do nothing to cushion your fall, you cry out in pain from the intensity of the throbbing plaguing your body.

“ Why can’t ‘ya be careful!? Damn it. “

Before you know it, Daryl is level with you as you feel his touch grazing your skin — ensuring you’d not injured yourself further. Guilt pools in his stomach at the thought of your current suffering being his fault, his ire now directs itself brightly towards him.

“ Dar — what’s going on? Why are you acting like this? “ You quiz as your expression contorts into a grimace. You’d not seen him behave like this for what feels like a long century, even more so when directed towards you.

“ Like what?! Huh? “

“ You’re being crazy! “ You state, your finger jabs into his chest.

“ Ain’t it obvious? “ Daryl asks suddenly.

Your head shakes, confusion clouds your features as if it’s an angry storm that has waited long enough for the calm — nothing can be seen through the darkened skies. All you want is for the sunny rays of truth to shed light upon this mess.

“ ‘Ya mean more to me than you should. “

“ Daryl? Do.. do you — ? “

He nods suddenly, unable to hear the words out loud no matter how true they ring, because as real as it is. There would be no taking it back then. Your lips purse as a sad smile lifts itself with no help from you, your heart hurting as you realise this could have been avoided entirely since you both appear to be on the same page. You acknowledge the fact that actions would speak louder than words in this scenario, your fingertips brush through darkened strands of hair as if they play a sheet of music with the aging competence of a commanding pianist. This is one of many songs your mind finds itself conjuring, a burning hope of this forging something more between you. It’s not long before your arms are wrapped around his neck, with Daryl unable to believe the scene in which he finds himself in, you’re a sky full of stars that he finds himself wanting to get lost in.

“ We can take this one step at a time, yeah? “ You question softly, not wanting to be witness to the fleeting images of a set of angel wings.

He agrees silently, a warmth spreads outwards from your cheeks and treks outwards to cover your completely. The moment is sweet, as it concludes with a honeyed kiss on his tanned cheek. In one frame you both are thinking the same thing, just how lucky you are to have fought through your fears of living and given in to taking the plunge into unchartered waters that Maggie and Glenn have already found themselves navigating.

In a world full of the dead, you both agree that to love shouldn’t be a reason to cower and hide.

#daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon oneshot #twd imagine #daryl fic #twd oneshot #daryl dixon imagine

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mcyt-imagines · 4 years ago

Note

hi hi ! first off, just a tip if you'd like more requests/asks in general you should prob turn on anon since this is like the only time i've sent a non-anon ask. but anyways, i'm assuming requests are open and i'd like to ask if you would write either just ranboo fluff in general or something like the tommy confession headcanons but w ranboo :D what you've posted so far is great <3

Thank you so much for letting me know! I thought I had anon turned on already, but it’s 100% turned on now! Regarding your request I got a little carried away and wrote both some general fluff and some confession headcanons for Ranboo so this post is a little long... Hope you enjoy! :D

(It’s important to note that these headcanons are a combination of ones pertaining to his Minecraft character in the dsmp and him outside of the dsmp roleplay!)

General Ranboo Fluff

- Dreamsmp Ranboo -

The first time Ranboo cries in front of you is when you confess to him and he is so happy and relieved that you reciprocate his feelings. He even smiles through the pain of his tears as you panic to cover the skin beneath his eyes, so your hands catch his tears to stop the pain.

Ranboo likes to ask if you need any resources from time to time and once you finally give in and answer, he spends the rest of his day trying to collect as much of it as he can. This has led to a few incidents in which you came back to your shared indent in the snowy mountain to find a chest stacked full with polished stone and countless ores. You’ve scolded him but the way he responds with big puppy dog eyes wishing to “just be helpful.” Sets the butterflies caged in your chest free every damn time.

Ranboo in addition to asking you for want you want he is also very observant in noticing what you need. Any tools close to breaking? Brilliant, he’s already got three more of the same tools ready for you to grab when you need it. He also names them using the anvil to some silly super cheesy pet names.

One of his favourite things to do with you is stargaze. You both travel to the top of your snowy mountain and clear out a space free of snow to lie down and simply hold each other. Ranboo has started asking Techno (on the nights you are away) to point out the stars and tell him their corresponding stories. He happily relays all of this information to you in exaggerated detail, looking at you in awe as your expressions change with the twinkling lights above.

Ranboo almost always carries a little umbrella around with him in case it begins to rain. Most of his friends notice and all start to buy him some. He now has a full collection that line his wall just next to the door. It’s those small things that allows him to remember who his real friends are.

Ranboo LOVES having his hair played with. He will fall asleep within minutes of you beginning to tousle his hair as he rests his head in your lap. He may make soft enderman noises, but you don’t dare tell him. Content on keeping that little secret to yourself.

Ranboo has to be kinda careful around snow considering that if it melts it will hurt him. Meaning he has to sit out on any snowball fights that occur. And they occur more frequently than you would think. It usually starts with Phil throwing a rogue snowball at Techno when Phil notices him slumping his shoulders. Which means it doesn’t take long until it’s a full-blown war. You usually find yourself smack bang in the middle of it and have to dive down to avoid getting pummelled in the crossfire. Ranboo will call you over to hide behind Techno’s house. As the onslaught continues between the two. you giggle and commentate over the fierce battle together.

- Outside of Dreamsmp Ranboo -

Ranboo enjoys watching you whenever you are focused on something. He’s incredibly observant and finds himself mimicking the small little nuances he sees you exhibit. He gets incredibly flustered whenever you notice that he’s picked up on them, but he doesn’t bother to deny it.

Ranboo finds himself staring at you a lot. He doesn’t mean to but he can’t help it. You catch him frequently, “Watching me real closely, hm?” He tries to stutter out an answer to defend himself, but you just smile and tell him it’s okay.

Ranboo finds a lot of comfort in doing ‘domestic’ activities with you. However, one of his personal favourites is when the two of you go out to get groceries together. His mum will give him a small list and he’ll try his best to dawdle around the store whilst swinging your intertwined hands to make the visit as long as possible. It makes him think of a future in which the two of you get to do this every single week and that alone warms his heart.

Ranboo always has to be near you, he doesn’t have to be physically touching you but he prefers to just be stupidly close to you. It always makes you laugh when he sits just close enough to you that you don’t touch, so now he has to do it forever.

Your laugh is one of his favourite sounds. To the point that if you giggle or laugh at something, he will just keep doing it over and over again for as long as you keep laughing at it. Which eventually leads to the both of you red-faced and gasping for air.

Ranboo is a terrible cook. But he tries so hard to follow recipes and they always flop. He also for some reason, cannot attempt cooking without making an utter mess of himself. Whether it’s spilling flour all over himself, getting egg yolk splatter somehow in his hair or just spilling copious amounts of milk on the floor so that he slips. This boy is a walking, talking kitchen DISASTER. So now he can only cook with you supervising him. Which turns out, wasn’t as much of a punishment as it should have been. As your tutelage seems to have slightly improved his cooking skills. However, now you also get flour spilt all over you as well.

Ranboo Confession Headcanons

- Realising he likes you -

Ranboo denies he has feelings for you at first. Believing that you’re just a good friend whose company he really enjoys. But the more he focuses on your friendship the quicker he realises he would prefer if you were more to him than that.

This thought alone sends him into a little bit of a spiral for a few days. Grappling with the thought of rejection and the guilt he would feel if he ever hurt you.

He spends most of the time grappling with his feelings he continues to try and act as normal as possible around you. You finding out would be his worst nightmare.

Ranboo realises he has absolutely no history in the dating department and desperately needs some guidance. He may ask Phil on a whim who would try his best to give the poor panicked boy some words of wisdom. Ranboo takes the advice to heart immediately, promising Phil he will update him on how his feelings for you turn out.

Ranboo finds himself writing about you in one of his many journals. He finds putting words on the page seems to help clear his mind. He tries to script his confession a few times. Desperately floundering to find the right words, but he always seems to fall short. He usually ends up scribbling all over those pages until you can barely tell someone had even written on them. Hoping to somehow erase the thoughts in the process.

He even tries drawing you a few times when he finds himself with enough spare time. He doesn’t think they’re any good though. Sure, the sketches look like you, but they don’t make him feel the way you do. When he looks at the page his chest doesn’t tighten because of your beauty, but instead because of the way you’ve made him feel. Which he comes to the sad conclusion is something he simply cannot capture in his words or his drawings. He has to show it through his actions. Not exactly his strong suit. But he’s determined to do right by you. So, he devises a plan.

- Confessing to you -

This boy plans the whole day down to a t, he has multiple back-up plans just in case his first one falls short.

Ranboo invites you over for lunch. Arriving at his place you notice how clean it is. He spent the last few days cleaning it top to bottom.

You spend a few minutes in the house chatting. You notice Ranboo is on edge almost immediately. Shoulders a pinch too tight, his smiles a little too wide and none of them reach his eyes.

You ask what you’re going to be having for lunch and he reveals a wicker basket from his kitchen. “A picnic!” Your heart warms, “I would’ve brought something if you’d told me beforehand.” He smiles at that, “Exactly. I even cooked without you, you should be proud.”

He shuffles on his feet a little, wishing to be praised, “We’ll see how the food tastes first, maybe then I’ll tell you how proud I am.” You tease, moving to elbow him lightly. You notice the way his face flushes as you move into his space. His mother appears from upstairs, “Are you two leaving? I could drive you, y’know!” “No thanks mom!!” He is quick to grab your hand and practically drag you out of the house and away from his all knowing mom.

The bus ride is on the longer side and you find yourself feeling brave enough to scoot a little closer to Ranboo. “Hey, is it okay if I?” You gesture between your head and his shoulder, the cute, shocked expression he sends you causes you to grin. “Uh s-sure!”

You softly press your head against his shoulder, “Thanks, pretty comfy shoulder you got here should’ve asked you to share it sooner.” You tease, nuzzling his shoulder lightly just for a reaction. And you get one alright, his skin goes such a lovely shade of red all the way up to the tips of his ears. You giggle softly, trying your best to hold it in and failing miserably.

You even manage to fall asleep despite your own heartbeat quickening at Ranboo’s closeness. You are tapped awake by him, “Hmm?” You rub one of your eyes knowingly appearing adorable and the way he looks at you makes it all worth it. “It’s our stop soon, we gotta get up.”

You nod and lazily stand and he follows suit. Only for the bus to brake abruptly, promptly shoving you into his chest. He wraps his arms around you quickly to steady you whilst you desperately cling to the wicker basket, “You okay?” You both mumble to each other before laughing it off and nodding. “Oh crap.” Ranboo grabs your free hand and you both scramble to get to the front of the bus to hop off. Sparks fly up your arm at the extended contact, even as you jump off the bus.

Ranboo happily leads you to a spot he had picked out earlier in the month. A soft patch of grass below a large willow tree that now sways softly in the warm breeze. You set up your carefully packaged feast with haste now that your stomachs are grumbling.

Ranboo forcefully tries to make himself relax knowing you’ve probably noticed his tense state by now. But you choose not to push him on it, taking an educated guess on why he’s so stressed.

You are quick to compliment his cooking skills when he divvies out a freshly baked quiche. Even though you know his mom for sure did most of the work. It’s the thought that counts. You hope that may snap him out of the stupor he seems to be in. However, no such luck.

“Hey Ranboo, do you want to talk about something?” Ranboo goes into full panic mode. He did not have a plan for you asking something like this. He thought you weren’t confrontational!! You watch as his expression changes rapidly. You look away, “You don’t have to tell me, it’s okay. I just thought you might want to-“

He takes one of your hands in his. Why is he doing this??? This isn’t part of the plan at all! “I…” His throat goes dry. All those hours obsessing over what he was going to say to you are sent out the window when he finally meets your eyes.

“I think I like you.” He hasn’t realised he’s even said it until its waaaaaay too late. Your eyes widen, you didn’t think he’d actually admit it to you. You squeeze his hand as you watch his eyes seem to lose focus, “I like you too.” He is silent for several long moments until he starts blinking rapidly, “Huh!?” The look of utter surprise on his face causes you to burst out laughing.

“Wait, wait, wait you’re serious?” He grabs your arm as a grin slowly starts to creep onto his face. “Sure am.” And as you meet his gaze you realise that his grin actually reached his eyes, for the first time in a long while.

“So, you gonna kiss me now or what?” You tease as his face shines a dark red. “W-well I, uh-“ His stuttering only allows for you to sneak closer and press a firm kiss to his cheek. Somehow, he grows even redder and you sigh pleasantly. “My heart definitely made the right choice with you Ranboo.”

Meanwhile Ranboo is too busy freaking out over the fact that you weren’t even meant to find out he liked you until you were stargazing together later tonight. His plans are utterly ruined! But as you squeeze his hand again to bring his thoughts back into the present, he wonders that perhaps spontaneity isn’t such a bad thing sometimes.

~My ask box is always open if you’ve got any requests or just want to vent about the dreamsmp lore!~

#mcyt #ranboo #x reader #ranboo x reader #fluff headcanons #mcyt x reader #confession headcanons #mcyt imagines #mcyt headcanons

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cdroloisms · 4 years ago

Note

Sooo... how about that reveal that c!Sam wasn’t feeding c!Dream? I mean, we all knew it was coming, but still. The auto food dispenser probably broke or smtg bc when c!Sam came down, c!Dream asked if he was there to give them potatoes. (Also with him being shaken up by learning c!Tommy is alive, c!Sam might not remember or care to feed c!Dream, who has none of his stores of potatoes left.) So, assuming the dispenser is broken and he doesn’t know, why would he come down in the first place? 🟩⛏?

hello anon !! yeah that reveal ,, dang, we already knew that c!sam had presumably been starving c!dream, but to see not only c!dream but c!sam confirm it as well as it having lasted AT LEAST a week ,, d a n g . they are Not pulling any punches in this arc (which, i mean, judging on the q stream, isnt exactly surprising anymore,, but still)

in the prison guard stream, we see how the dispenser works - it’s not automatic as much as it’s remote, as c!sam or the prison guards still need to press a button in order to dispense food. he also says “i havent even been around to feed the prisoner” or something along those lines in tommy’s stream, so we can conclude that the decision to deprive c!dream of food after c!tommy’s death is INTENTIONAL,, which i mean. again. yikes.

anyway, here’s a snippet of c!dream finding out that the “automatic” feeder isnt as automatic as he might’ve thought - here, the dispenser + crying obsidian are installed at around the same time, so it’s between bad and sapnap’s visit

tw: starvation, disordered eating, abuse, mental illness, self-hatred, toxic relationship, gaslighting, disturbing imagery, dark content, c!sam/warden!sam critical (again, be careful with the content warnings)

Dream stares up at the hole in the obsidian, barely able to make out a glint of metal in the dark chute. The dispenser, just as expected, doesn’t respond to his glare, refuses to whir and click in the way that indicates food, and Dream bites his tongue, mumbles curses under his breath.

“Prick,” he blows a breath through his gritted teeth, only more irrationally angry when the dispenser, as expected, ignores him. “Some automatic dispenser, Warden.”

The walls don’t respond. Nothing responds, here, besides the dark dark thoughts swirling in his brain, and he thinks he’d prefer it if those didn’t - or maybe he doesn’t, because company is company, even if said company is the same litany of blood anger revenge pain you deserve this you deserve all of this you have destroyed the world now lie in the bed you have made pounding at the base of his skull. He drags his hand down his face; every minute is an hour, and every hour is a minute. Time has no meaning when your only frame of reference is eternity.

Even so, even he can tell that it’s been a long time since he’s had food, even by his usual standards - several days, at least, because the ever-present ache of hunger in his gut had swelled into something angrier, demanding, no longer as easy to ignore. Another stabbing round of pain nearly sends him to his knees, and just as he always he does, he clings to the feeling, gathers it into his hands, grabs it by the edges and directs the sharp edges into the words he spits at the indifferent walls. Let the Warden hear him - what can he possibly do?

Just as it always does, the fury in him peters out, drains, leaves him alone in the middle of his cell. He sinks the ground, arms wrapped around his stomach; a part of him wants to laugh at the irony. Some people think of silence as emptiness, void; he knows now that it’s anything but. Silence is suffocating, thick, so present that anything he says seems to get lost within it seconds after leaving his mouth. It grows and pushes into his limbs, becomes a weight tied around his throat, expands into the air in his lungs like a slowly inflating balloon until it’s pressed into every corner and space of the cell, every corner and space of him, taking up so much room that he can hardly breathe around it.

The hunger hollows him out, and the silence fills the space that’s left; Dream wonders how much more there is for him to lose before he’s completely empty, just a husk filled with the same liquid misery that drips down the walls. He wonders if anyone would care- laughs. As if.

“Dream.” The intercom crackles; Dream perks up at the voice, spine straightening against his will, and his hands tighten into fists as he realizes - prime, how pathetic is he, now? The voice deepens, becomes more insistent. “Prisoner.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. Or maybe I’m not; you better come and check, yeah?” A humorless smile tugs at his lips, and a static-filled sigh comes through the speaker.

“This isn’t the time for games, Dream.”

Dream rolls his eyes. It’s not exactly the time to be a dick, either, but you don’t see me complaining. A flutter of something warm, joyful, rises in his chest at the sound of something- someone, other than his own voice, and he strangles it with a hand wrapped around his own throat - he won’t let them break him, won’t let himself become desperate enough to crave the attention of a man that hates him - he won’t- he can’t-

“Do you need something? Or were you yelling at the wall for no reason again?” Sam’s voice is steely, indifferent, on a knife’s edge between apathy and anger. “Don’t waste my time, prisoner.”

Dream bites down the snarky reply sitting on his tongue, breathes in, out through his nose until the fury is no longer blinding.

“Your fancy automatic jig is broken. The potato one. It’s not- working.” The hunger fogs his mind, makes it hard to think. He feels caged and weak and pathetic and he hates it.

“That’s because it’s not automatic.” Footsteps echo on the speakers, Dream tapping along to the rhythm before he realizes and stops himself, and a moment later the familiar whirring and clicking of the metal box comes from behind him and a small pile of potatoes fall down and splash into the water. “There. Is that all?”

Dream feels the fury rise, again, but doesn’t quite to keep the words back, this time.

“So what was the point of the whole automatic feeder, asshole? You’ve changed nothing! What’s the difference between that thing and you coming over to my cell besides that you’ve wasted a couple stacks of redstone? Congratu-fucking-lations, you’re a goddamn genius-”

“It’s remote now, so I don’t have to come into your cell.”

“Oh, so it’s just the good ol’ Warden looking for more ways to make the prisoner suffer, huh? Should’ve figured, you fucking self-righteous prick-”

“Dream.”

His mouth shuts with a click, a flash of fear searing through his muscles, white-hot, and by the time he’s blinked back the ringing in his ears the silence has stolen all the words from him, once again. Pathetic, he screams in his head, but his jaw remains firmly locked in place - the Warden’s won, per usual, and they both know it.

“Is that all?” He sounds impatient. Part of Dream wants nothing more than to never hear his voice again, and the other half of him rails at the idea of being alone with his thoughts once more. All of him hates himself, and all of him hates the silence; they’re the only two constants in this place. “You’ll have to speak up if you want anything.”

“How- long was it, since you last gave food?”

Static for a moment, then another. “It’s only been about a day.”

“Bullshit.”

“You’d know if you took care of your clock instead of destroying it, prisoner.”

“I’d know if you were less of a fucking prick.”

“Behave, and you might get it replaced.” The Warden’s breathing is harsh, almost labored - he must be angrier than Dream thought, then. “Speaking of which, you won’t be getting any for a day after this stunt.”

“Ooh, I’m so scared. It’s not like you don’t do this - what, every other day?”

“Do you want food or not?”

Dream’s teeth grind against each other; he breathes in, out. He hates this, hates the potatoes, hates the Warden, hates himself. Hates the way that a part of him recoils at the thought of making the Warden angry at him, reaches desperately for a chance to earn his clock- his approval. Attachments are weakness, he tells his traitorous heart, knowing that it, as always, will fail to stay away.

“Yes. Thank you.” The pleasantry burns on his tongue, tastes worse than the bitterness of raw potatoes that seems to be the only thing it knows, anymore.

“Good-bye, prisoner. Don’t make me come into the cell.”

The intercom cuts off with a click, the space that the static made immediately filled by silence. Dream watches it blankly, jaw sore from how tight it had been clenched, and begins to work his way through the first potato, nibbling at the pale flesh just enough to tide over the worst of the pain.

This is fine, he tells himself, and the walls stare at him impassively. He’s not sure they believe him.

He’s not sure how much longer he can believe himself.

#tw starvation #tw disordered eating #tw abuse #tw mental illness #tw self-hate #tw toxic relationship #tw gaslighting #tw disturbing imagery #tw dark content #c!sam critical #warden!sam critical #sorry sam #but starving people is still very not pogchamp #queue <3 #long post #my writing :D #my asks !!

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chockfullofsecrets · 4 years ago

Text

Critical Role: Embarrassing and Undignified

(Read on AO3)

Rating: Gen

Summary: Caleb doesn’t smile much. It’s something he rather likes about the man, that he prefers to save his pleasure for that which is truly worth it - but there’s nothing else he can call the expression that briefly narrows those blue eyes. “Reacting like that in front of a friendly tiefling?” he says - teasing, almost, and Essek feels his stomach flip. “I am not so sure.”

Essek's time in the hot tub goes a little awry.

Wordcount: 3.3k

A/N: Fill for this anon prompt! (i’m so sorry for taking 2+ months to write this... i love Essek so much and he needs more tk content)

---

Essek is no stranger to being - unusual. He often welcomes it, really. Achieving a status such as his for the better part of a century comes with its fair share of eccentricities, his floating among them, and at this point hovering just above the rest of the Dynasty has become something of a favored routine.

And yet, it seems, the Nein have him beaten at every turn.

He had meant to take his leave directly after dinner, unsure of his place among Yasha’s solemn questions of loneliness and Beauregard’s transparent attempts to pry information from him and Jester’s threat to invoke a Zone of Truth for idle gossip -

(and the slight jealousy, he admits, if only to himself, of seeing Caleb, ambitious and focused and loved, among them - )

But. Lonely and friendless he is, as has been quite thoroughly pointed out to him through the evening, and he’s intrigued enough by the rarity of this hot tub to clamber up awkwardly onto the enclosing stone wall and dangle his feet into the water while his hosts bustle around and shuck off various pieces of clothing.

Caleb sits next to him, rolling his own pant legs crisply to the knee and lowering his feet in. “What do you think?”

He looks over - thank the Light, Caleb’s still wearing his shirt. “It’s - nice,” he says. He drags his toe through a slow stream of bubbles rising from what he assumes must be the hottest parts of the depths. “Unfamiliar, but quite impressive that you’ve constructed it on your own.”

Caleb raises an eyebrow. “The hot tub, or -” He traces a small circle with his index finger, encompassing himself and his companions. “- all of this?”

Decades of court experience well up unbidden on his tongue. “The compliment extends to you either way,” he offers smoothly.

Caleb squints at him, but before he can say anything more the rest of the Nein are joining them with pleased exclamations and a thoroughly distracting amount of splashing. Essek watches, bemused, as Jester flops in belly-first before even unbuckling the last clasp of her outergarments - she wrestles them off, finally, crumpling the dripping green cloak into a ball and flinging it away, and he winces on behalf of the fine Kryn fabric.

She looks around, eyes lighting on him, and her hands fly to her round cheeks with an excited gasp. “Essek! Your legs!”

Startled, he looks down - they seem quite normal, with his boots off and his neatly pressed trousers folded at the knee, if a little more purple than anyone else’s present. “I would prefer to keep my clothes dry, yes.”

She leans in, eyes wide. “Are they re-al?”

Light be with him - she’s hardly said anything, but he struggles not to flush under the scrutiny. “Ah, yes? Why should they not be?”

Just then, something brushes lightly over the sole of his foot - he startles, and -

His seat is well made, certainly, but not enough to stand up to the Nein’s shenanigans; as he recoils, his center of gravity shifts right off the narrow ledge and he’s tumbling backwards before he can do more than blink.

Light, if this is how he dies -

He flails for a solution - it’s been years, at least, since he’s done something so pedestrian as fall, and there are spells for this, certainly, but what he’s prepared for today is more showy fare, in case the Nein asked for a demonstration, why can’t he think -

A hand closes roughly around his bicep, then another around the opposite shoulder, and then he’s dangling from Caleb’s grip with his back nearly parallel to the floor - he reaches out too, panicked, and crumples the front of Caleb’s shirt in a death grip.

“Good reflexes,” he says, breathless. Blood pounds in his ears. Caleb stares down at him, blue eyes wide and jaw tight -

“Ooh, now kiss!” Jester hoots.

The rest of the Nein burst into laughter behind them. Caleb goes bright red and hurriedly turns away, looking over his shoulder. “One of you jokers come here and help me, please,” he chides, strained, “I am not the muscle of this group.”

The tension in Caleb’s face becomes infinitely more explicable - finally capable of rational thought, Essek flicks his fingers and casts a weight-lightening cantrip just as another strong hand latches onto his knee and bodily tows him upright. Yasha nods at him, chest completely bare, and wades back to her corner as Veth pops up from nowhere with her long ears twitching maniacally. “I’m SO sorry,” she screeches, insistent far beyond the point of sincerity. “I brushed against your feet COMPLETELY ON ACCIDENT.”

“VERY ACCIDENTAL,” Jester agrees loudly. Next to her, Fjord winces.

Veth’s voice softens, then, as she pats him gingerly on the leg. “I didn’t think you would do that - are you okay?”

“It’s all right,” he says weakly. Her ears droop in what seems to be genuine relief - it is pointless to care, perhaps, but he feels better for having reassured her.

He sucks in a solid breath for what feels like the first time in minutes and turns to Caleb to thank him. There’s still a guarding hand resting warmly against his back - and worse still, he realizes belatedly that his own hand is still fisted in the buttons of Caleb’s shirt.

He snatches it hastily away, ears burning. “Ah, my apologies. I shall pay closer attention to gravity, for the rest of the night.”

Caleb doesn’t smile much. It’s something he rather likes about the man, that he prefers to save his pleasure for that which is truly worth it - but there’s nothing else he can call the expression that briefly narrows those blue eyes. “Reacting like that in front of a friendly tiefling?” he says - teasing, almost, and Essek feels his stomach flip. “I am not so sure.”

A friendly -

Surprised, he glances over at Jester and finds her wearing a smug expression that might not be out of place on Da’leth himself, if significantly sweeter. “E-ssek,” she wheedles, wide-eyed with delight, drawing every syllable to its maximum extent. “Are your feet like, super ticklish?”

Essek blinks - ticklish? But he hasn’t - really, he can’t remember the last time he might have known. As a child, perhaps, when Verin used to tempt him into playing by tackling him straight off his feet and -

Oh. Oh, dear.

At least that particular piece of evidence is decades out of date - a poor excuse to discard it, but he’s willing to compromise in the face of Jester’s ever-sharpening grin and the traitorously pleased squirm in the pit of his own stomach. “What? No, of course not, I was merely surprised-”

“You can be surprised and ticklish,” Jester corrects, skipping forward with a splash. Essek shirks back into Caleb’s hand, millimeters from tumbling off the ledge again, and she giggles. “And I’m pret-ty sure that you’re both.”

The hot tub, for all of its excellent qualities, is unfortunately not large enough to keep her at bay for longer than that. She reaches out as he’s still deciding which direction would be the best to flee in and scoops his ankle up in a grip like steel. “Ah-” he sputters. “I - Jester, wait-”

She drags a fingernail up the arch of his foot.

It feels like one of the few times while developing a lightning-based spell that he’d electrocuted himself - but the feeling doesn’t stop, shooting up his leg and tickling at his lungs too to make them shiver, and it’s silly, and he just -

He panics, jerks back against Caleb’s hand again, and in a moment of brash stupidity the animal instinct of his brain decides that the only safe place to hide is Caleb himself. He buries his face in Caleb’s side and grabs him around the waist just in time to shriek as Jester repeats the same lazy route up and down the sole of his foot, pausing only to scratch tingling patterns into his heel. “Tickle, tickle! Aw, guys, he’s so ticklish, look at how much he’s laughing!”

The fabric of Caleb’s shirt isn’t much of a barrier to Jester’s teasing - or to his own ticklish laughter, embarrassingly high-pitched and loud in a way that makes his whole face heat with shame - but at least they can’t see him blush.

Caleb jumps a little as Essek latches onto him, but his hand stays put, stabilizing, and starts to rub gentle circles on his back as Essek dissolves into cackling at another spidering assault on his arch. “Jester, please be gentle,” he says, amused. “I am not sure that is a good idea.”

Essek’s not sure how he feels either. It’s terribly embarrassing, and undignified, and if this was happening in front of any other being in the Dynasty he would have to learn some sort of memory erasure spell, but - the Nein have never cared for his layers upon layers of decorum anyway, have they, always prying for indignation and confusion and warmth that he’s not certain he even possesses.

Caught between Jester and Caleb and a vat of hot water, with the rest of the Nein making relatively amused noises behind him, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt warmer.

Jester just laughs. “I’m barely doing anything!” she teases, shaking Essek’s leg lightly. “He’s just so sensitive - oh, Essek, is it ‘cause you never walk anywhere? Is that why your feet are so soft and tickly?”

He’s giddy, even with the sudden reprieve, giggling too hard to speak. “I - ha - I dohon’t - ehe-”

“Of course it is,” Beauregard says smugly from a distance that seems far too close, “waving all those secrets and magic over our heads and he’s hoisted on his own fuckin’ petard-”

“What’s that?” Caduceus asks. Essek vaguely remembers the term to describe some sort of bomb, but Jester chooses that moment to send her mischievous fingers exploring under his fucking toes and it tickles like absolute hell. He shrieks even louder than before, if such a thing were possible, and makes a solid attempt to burrow his way straight into Caleb’s ribcage as his entire leg jolts in involuntary protest. No amount of desperate attempts to flex or curl his foot make the sensation any more bearable - it’s like the sucking feeling of a Teleport spell, like everything inside him is unmoored and floating in a sea of mirth and the only way he can get any of it out is to scream.

His cheeks hurt and he realizes, suddenly, that he’s beaming.

Jester cackles. “Come get his other foot, Beau,” she urges, easing off to just pinch his big toe between two fingers and wiggle it. “He totally loves it, he’s not even kicking-”

“Uh-huh,” Beauregard says, and there’s another splash. “Maybe I will.”

Caleb’s still rubbing his back - he stops, briefly, and from his huddled position Essek feels that Beauregard has jostled his other side on her way past. “His feet might be worse than yours,” she murmurs. He can hear the grin in her voice. “Better hope Jes doesn’t remember and go after you next.”

“Don’t remind her,” Caleb says, strangled. It’s remarkably friendly for Beauregard, though, and Essek is once again caught up in the paradox of this little group - merciless but fiercely protective, reluctant but trusting. It’s hard to be regretful - or wistful, maybe, one of those feelings that twinges in his chest every time he thinks of the Nein nowadays - with Jester tickling her way up the back of his bare calf and cooing over the way it makes him wriggle. But his heart, a traitor to the last, manages. There are so many secrets between them still.

Beauregard seizes his other ankle, hauling it up from the water, and he realizes for one terrible moment that if they were to, say, force him out of hiding and keep tickling, he might be inclined to spill some of them. “Scoot over, Jes,” Beauregard says, and there’s a squeak that, for once in the evening, doesn’t come from him. She chuckles. “Good thing he’s not trying to tickle you back, huh?”

He expects Jester to sputter and redirect her, as he would, but she sounds entirely unconcerned at the prospect. “Oh, Beau, do you want to have a tickle fight? We totally could, after this-”

“No,” she says, not entirely drowning out the little panicked noise that Caleb makes. “Not the kind of wrestling I want to do when half of us aren’t wearing shirts, if you know what I mean-”

“Beau!” Jester shrieks, giggling. Fjord groans loudly from the other side of the hot tub, and Essek, still squirming, is very sure that he’s blushing enough for it to show on the back of his neck, under his high collar. “Who do you want to wrestle with? Is it Yasha-”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, moving on.” Beauregard interrupts hastily. There’s a popping noise that takes a second for Essek to place as her cracking her knuckles. “Hey, Essek - you think you’d trade another favor to get us to stop?”

Essek flails for something resembling a complete sentence as Jester’s fingers curl teasingly behind one of his knees. “Nngh - heh-”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She squeezes the back of his other knee, barks out a laugh as he jumps. “Jes, stop messing around, let’s get his feet.”

That makes him kick, but at this point his entire lower half is restrained - all he can do is take one last breath before fingertips are scribbling over both his soles and he’s cackling so forcefully that his laughter peaks into agonized wheezing with each fresh gulp of air. “Hhh - ha - ahahaaaa, hA -”

Caleb shifts a little, bending until one of the strands that always hang stubbornly loose from where he ties his hair back brushes the tip of Essek’s burning ear. Essek shivers. “You can tell them to stop, you know,” he murmurs.

Essek’s almost entirely sure that he’s crying into Caleb’s shirt, tears leaking from squeezed-shut eyes as Beauregard and Jester torment his feet, but Caleb seems - fond, oddly - as he starts to rub his back again. “They’re not trying to be cruel - I believe they’re just excited that you’ve. Ah. Lowered yourself to our level, perhaps.”

And what level is that, Essek wants to ask, suddenly conjuring a mental image of Caleb in the same throes of helpless laughter. But he’s barely capable of that, as he’s currently dying, so he just tightens his grip on Caleb and shakes his head. He can barely even register Jester and Beauregard’s teasing anymore - he doesn’t think he can speak right now without embarrassing himself even more if he tried.

“Fuck, alright,” Fjord says abruptly from somewhere miles away, “I think he’s actually crying now, the Dynasty is going to have our heads if we break him.”

“He wouldn’t let them, he’s our friend,” Jester trills, but she does stop tickling, ghosting a hand up over his heaving shoulders to pat him gently on the head. “His ears are really purple though, like magenta purple, I think he’s blushing.”

For some reason - perhaps because he can finally think - it strikes him, fighting through the warm and pleasantly tingling haze of being touched and gentled back into himself, that as much as the casual label of friend pleases him he cannot afford this kind of vulnerability.

“Or suffocating,” Beauregard says a moment later, dropping his foot unceremoniously back into the water. “Thelyss? You alive in there?”

And, a beat later, when he doesn’t reply - “Are you just, like, smelling Caleb now?”

“Gross,” Veth squawks. “Get him off, get him off!”

Caleb smells quite pleasant, actually, but that’s not the point - his self-awareness is slowly trickling back in as he remembers who and where he is, and what he’s done to the Nein, and now they’ve broken him and he would rather die than look any of them in the eye for the next year.

Caleb pats his back. “Come on, friend, chin up.”

And he’s right, Essek can’t afford to cling to this veneer of comfort any longer - but to his immediate and eternal shame, he whines and nuzzles further into Caleb’s ribs. Just a moment to gather his wits, maybe, and he’ll be able to Misty Step to the front door and don his mantle-

“No? Alright, then - I’ll go to work too, if I have to.”

The hand on his back lifts away and walks itself on two prodding fingers neatly up under Essek’s arm, gently wriggling into the hollow until he can’t bear to keep his arms up any longer. “Nnn, hnn! - eheh, thahat’s - enough, please-”

It’s. It’s not, is the problem - he tries to stir up anger, distaste, but there’s only fear. He would deal with this indignity again, suffer it gladly, even, just to have them speak to him kindly. It’s new, and terrifying, and he needs to think it over alone with a generous glass of wine in his tower.

He shrinks back in on himself, still snickering at the tickling under his arms, and Caleb takes the opportunity to grab him neatly by the shoulders and sit him back up - Essek catches a glimpse of his blue eyes shining with rare merriment and promptly swivels to look away from all of them. No one stops him as he rolls his pant legs down and shoves his feet into his boots, heedless of the damp. He can feel their curious gazes prickle on the back of his neck - shifting into an unconscious competence that’s carried him through many anxieties before, he’s already floating off the ground before he can remind himself otherwise. “I’m going to go now,” he says, rushed, still too terrified to turn his head. “Thank you, I -”

“Essek, wait!” Jester says, confused, and Beau scoffs, and he’s not going to think about how he can recognize their voices without even seeing them, he’s not -

Yasha’s voice, at last, breaks through the hubbub, and it’s only in deference to their conversation before dinner that he pauses to listen.

“Hey,” she says, quiet and certain enough to shake him. “You said that you’re lonely, right?”

The noise fades away. He inches down to the ground with it. “Recently, yes,” he replies, just above a whisper, fighting to keep his voice steady with the enormity of this, this feeling -

“I didn’t say so before,” she continues, perfectly calm, “but it’s a little scary, right? To not be so lonely, anymore.”

Essek says nothing - he knows, without the mantle, that they can all see the slight tremble of his shoulders.

“Go away, then,” she says confidently, and then, hastily, “oh, no, that’s not right -”

“Yasha,” Jester squeaks, horrified, and Essek, to his own surprise, laughs. More of a chuckle, really, but. That’s a relief, after all this.

He can place her roughly in the rightmost corner of the hot tub, turns just enough to catch her heterochromatic gaze in his periphery. Her mouth drops slightly open before she gathers herself. “I just, I meant -” She inhales nervously. “I used to leave all the time, to go do - things - and come back when I was ready. You can do that too, if you want, we won’t mind, as long as you come back. And the tickling - we’re all ticklish, you don’t have to feel bad about it - ah, maybe someone else should say something.”

Caduceus pats her shoulder. “Nah, that was pretty good.”

Essek agrees, despite his better judgment. He rolls his shoulders, forcing them loose. “No, no, that’s - helpful,” he assures, and then, taking a deep breath and praying that his cheeks have cooled, he turns to look at them all. “I am to show you my abode tomorrow, yes?”

Caleb looks extraordinarily stressed. “Ah, you don’t have to, if you would rather-”

Beau punches him in the shoulder harshly enough to make him wince. “Yes.”

“Yes, and breakfast pastries!” Jester cheers, clapping her hands together - he’ll have to talk to his staff tonight.

“Until tomorrow, then,” he says, and spares only a brief smile before casting Misty Step to take him to the door and then again to the street.

He’s not quite ready to lose all his dignity, yet.

#tickling #critical role #shadowgast #essek thelyss #jester lavorre #caleb widogast #chocfic #it's been a long monday and i needed to post this before i give in to the impulse to collapse hhh

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storiesungaa · 4 years ago

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mobile rules & information

Since people don’t read rules all the way through i would like to preface this by saying: TRIGGERING MATERIAL WILL BE WRITTEN HERE. THIS INCLUDES BUT IS NOT LIMITED TO: INCEST, DUBCON, SUICIDAL IDEALATIONS, CHEATING, AND ANYTHING ELSE I WANT TO WRITE. BY CLICKING FOLLOW, YOU AGREE TO BLACKLIST THE TAGS PROVIDED IN THE FORM OF (trigger here) tw. DO NOT FOLLOW ME IF YOU THINK FICTION EQUALS REALITY OR IN ANYWAY HAS ANY REFLECTION ON A MUN’S MORAL STANDING.

HATE WILL NOT BE TOLERATED AND ANY ANON’S I GET ABOUT THIS THAT IS HATE WILL BE BLOCKED/NOT AT ALL ACKNOWLEDGED.

THANK YOU.

about: this is an indie mutuals only rp blog for a multimuse with various fandoms from tv shows, movies, anime, and video games. mun is 25+, genderfluid lesbian, goes by he/him pronouns (but i am genderfluid so i don’t mind she/her pronouns, most just call me he/him) online and name Jay. Previously known as Ares and Snow.

Callout culture: Do not involve me in this. Period. I want no part of it and will block as soon as I see it, tagged or not. I believe it does more harm than good and something like tha is extremely harmful..

content: there will be some pretty heavy material featured here. such as suicidal thoughts, mentions of rape, incest, and anything else I want to write. I will not tolerate hate being sent to me about this and I will block anyone who tries to police me. The only hard limit i have and absolutely refuse to write is pedophilia.

Don’t ever be afraid to ask me to tag something!

side note: if you believe fiction equals reality, please don’t follow me.

discord: is open to those who follow me. simply ask for it. i do not write on discord though. ooc contact is highly encouraged!

disclaimer: i'm in no way affiliated with any of the actors, fandoms, or characters on this blog. Banners, promos, and icons belong to me. Theme was made by inkfated. all screencaps used to turn into icons on this blog are not mine and belong to their rightful owners. Lara Croft screencaps come from soulcluster. tsunade icons belong to hellspath. rectangle tsunade icons belong to me. Some psds are not mine. Credit to iconholic for Red Velvet psd. Credit to plutocommissions for psd 183 - wild. some psds used are made by rivercraze

Drama: There won’t be any. I’m too old for tumblr’s drama, if you try to start something, make me choose, or drag me into drama - you will be blocked.

DNI’s will get you blocked. I don’t agree with making people choose between people when there are things like blacklist and tumblr’s own filtering system to help you avoid a person

Hate: Character hate, show hate, etc will get you unfollowed. I don’t have time for that negativity, pls tag it so I can filter it out, thank you.

IMs: pls refrain from sending me multiple messages all at once as I’m autistic and it sends me into sensory overloads!!

follow/unfollowing: i usually follow back pretty quick. if i don't follow within a week, i'm probably not going to follow back. 9/10 i do follow back. i will not follow if i see vaguing, callouts, or any sort of drama on blogs. i also will not follow any under the age of 18.

if i’ve been following you for a month and you don’t interact with me within that time limit, I’m unfollowing. I won’t soft block because I’m totally okay with people still following me but I don’t see the point in following if we’re not gonna write.

If I do not follow you back, do not message me asking to write or become mutuals - you will be blocked.

If I block you, do not come to me asking why. It will only get you blocked all over again. Do not ask why i’ve unfollowed you, either.

DO NOT FOLLOW ME IF YOU’RE A MINOR.

side note: if you’re the type to blindly believe a callout because that’s what everyone else is doing save yourself the trouble and don’t follow me.

Memes: Send as many as you want for as many muses as you want just be sure to specify muse or they’ll get deleted! Always feel free to turn meme answers into threads, too.

Do not use me as a meme resource. Send something in or reblog from the source, please.

note: if you send memes multiple times and there’s clearly a way to continue them, ESPECIALLY if we’ve never interacted before, and you keep sending memes but have NO INTENTIONS on replying to them, I will be less likely to respond to them. memes, in my eyes, are used as alternatives to starters. if you don’t respond to them after i’ve responded to quite a few, that’s me putting work into it for no reason really, so yeah.

My triggers: Sharks. That’s it. Just tag pictures of sharks for me please

nsfw: smut will be present here. i can not play the dominant party in smut, please don't ask me too. if you don't feel comfortable with it, we can fade to black, easy peasy. i won't make myself uncomfortable for some smut. All muses involved in smut or ships are 18+. If you think that aging them up is pedophila, do me a favor and get off my blog. Smut may happen with aged up characters but that does not mean it was done specifically for smut. Do not assume.

OCS: I love them. Send them my way, please!

OOC: I post ooc, sometimes quite a bit, sometimes rarely. I am human and I will act as such. I will not tag ooc posts mostly bc i’ll forget. Sorry if that bugs people but like i said, I’m human and I like to write things down and share things with the dash.

OOC note: please do not flirt with me or ask me to date you, thank you!

Shipping: all muses are LGBT+ in some shape or form so if you want to ship, just let me know. They’re pretty open to anyone, though gay and lesbian muses will stay gay and lesbian. I ship toxic pairings and incest so if that’s your cup of tea, just lemme know, and we can work something out if not? That’s alright too!!

As previously stated, all ships and smut scenes are involved with characters 18+. I will never under any circumstance write something with underage characters. Characters, however, can be aged up but are never simply just for the sake of smut. Smut may happen with aged up characters but that does not mean it was done specifically for smut. Do not assume.

wait time: sometimes i can take months, sometimes seconds, sometimes days. I’m not a fast rper, please respect this.

writing: i generally prefer writing multi-para or novella. one-liners or one-paragraphs usually end up getting dropped or made into much longer threads as i have absolutely no chill.

edit: from now on any drafts that are below three paras will be deleted, i don’t have muse for short things.

End note: Do me a favor and like this post if you’ve read my rules. Not needed but deeply appreciated. Also below you’ll find important links:

MUSES & NAVIGATION & MUSE INTEREST CHECKER & SHIP INTEREST CHECKER & COMMISSIONS INFORMATION & MOBILE MUSE LIST & THREAD TRACKER

#mobile rules

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softboyuris · 4 years ago

Text

Doctor’s Orders

Spencer Reid x Reader

Words: 5.2k+

A/N: I did a thing. It became this thing because of @eideticmemory. I am in no way shape or form half the writer she is but I had to do this. Inspired by this anon.

Summary: Spencer losing his virginity. That’s it. That’s the plot

Warnings: sex, swearing

{masterlist}

Spencer Reid did not party. He did not go to bars or get drunk. He rarely had more than one drink when he did go out with his coworkers, or more, was forced to. Don’t get it wrong, he loved them. They were more like a family to him than work buddies but in his line of work, he rarely had a day off. So when he did, he would prefer to spend it his way- curled up on his leather sofa with a good book, or ten. And no one could change his mind.

Now Derek Morgan, Spencer’s best friend and one of his aforementioned coworkers- although some might say they’re more akin to brothers than either of those labels- he liked to party. He loved going out with his friends, doing shots and drunkenly destroying open mic night. And he always, without fail, dragged Spencer out with him.

What? He was concerned for his friend. His best friend. Spencer never talked about what happened while on the job but Derek knew it got to him. It got to them all something that came with the territory. And recently he had been extra stressed and tense and Derek knew just what he needed.

A night out on the town where, hopefully, he could help pretty boy get laid.

Spencer didn’t want this. He begged, literally begged Derek to let him stay in but ultimately lost the fight. Because in the end, Spencer did enjoy hanging out with him he just wasn’t always too happy about the location. Or getting stranded at whatever bar and/or club they stumbled into after Derek, without fail, went home with a girl. Sometimes two.

Trilly’s was a local bar, often frequented by cops meaning it wasn’t too heavily trafficked and even when it was a busy night, it’s numbers didn’t compare to the bar Spence knew Derek would drag him to.

Which is why when Spencer agreed to go out, “Just for an hour, tops,” his one condition was that they go there. While his best friend may enjoy hitting on an entire group of girls at once, Spencer much preferred to sit in a corner and observe.

Flirting was not his forte and he had little to no desire to make it one. Sure, he’d been on a few dates before. Kissed one or two girls in college but dating just wasn’t really his thing. Really, it wasn’t. It’s not like he didn’t have game or anything. That totally wasn’t the reason.

As bad as it was, Trilly’s very rarely saw females. Spencer knew the statistics, and with under thirty percent of law enforcement being female, the odds were in his favor. He could go out, have a drink with his friend and avoid any awkward confrontations when Derek would inevitably try to be his wingman. It would be a fun, easy night.

After almost a month of detective work, Y/N had finally caught the son of a bitch who had been ransacking local, small businesses over the past two months in Alexandria. She was exhausted. Twenty-seven days of non-stop work, late nights and early mornings that sometimes bled into each other. She hadn’t taken a single day off.

Many of the businesses the culprit hit had to shut down because they didn’t have the means to stay open. Citizens didn’t want to shop at a store that had been burglarized by a man in the wind, worried he’d come back for more than just a few valuables. So Y/N put all her effort into finding him with some sliver of hope that it could save the business that hadn’t gone under already.

John Willis was pulled over for his taillight being out and the cop that apprehended him noticed several of the missing items that had been reported laying in his backseat. Y/N wondered how, after evading law enforcement for two months, he was caught so easily.

She didn’t let it weigh on her mind for long though. Willis was locked up and she finally got a night off.

She wouldn’t call herself a party girl, but she was known to get a little mischievous at the local cop bar, Trilly’s, every now and then. And tonight, she planned on having some fun.

Y/N dragged her best friend and crime-fighting partner, Jasmine, out with her. Jasmine had reluctantly agreed, having just gone through a pretty rough break-up. Y/N reminded her that he was trash and she would find someone better. “Or at the very least a very hot cop to have rebound sex with.”

Jasmine rolled her eyes. “I will do no such thing.” But she agreed to come out anyway.

When Y/N got to Jasmine’s apartment to pick her up, Jas was already waiting outside, dressed in a low cut deep blue dress that hugged her curvy figure. “Damn girl, I’d take you home in that outfit.” Y/N quipped as Jasmine got into the car.

Jasmine looked her best friend, who wore a similar dress that was red, up and down with a smirk. “Right back at you, sexy.”

Trilly’s was unusually busy for a Wednesday night. When Y/N and Jasmine finally made it through the door, the place was pretty packed. The music was turned up louder than normal and a large group of people had made the middle of the room into a makeshift dance floor. Or grind floor would be more accurate, as that’s the only dance move these people evidently knew how to do.

They squeezed their way past sweaty bodies to the bar, hailing the attention of the bartender almost immediately. Y/N ordered them a round of shots.

“Starting the night off strong, are we?” Jasmine popped one eyebrow up as she leaned against the slightly sticky bar littered with peanut shells and drops of missed alcohol.

Y/N nodded. “Only way to do it!” She partially yelled over all the commotion around her. The bartender set down two shots in front of them. “To rebound sex.”

Jasmine laughed, a barely noticeable blush dotting her cheekbones. “Mmhmm, sure.” She raised her glass but Y/N stopped her before she could down the liquid.

“Nuh-uh,” She tutted. “Say it back or else it won’t work.” With reluctance, Jasmine just barely whispered the cheer back but it was enough to satiate Y/N. “Much better.” She chimed. They clinked their glasses together and downed them simultaneously, placing them upside down on the bar after.

Spencer was already uncomfortable. Derek and him had literally just stepped foot in the bar and he was already regretting his decision to go out tonight. It being a Wednesday, he never thought in a million years it’d be this busy.

People pushed past each other in front of him. A group of at least twenty people were grinding against each other in the middle of the room where they’d deemed it the dance floor for the night. The floor was sticky as was the booth and table the two men eventually found themselves seated in. Spencer grimaced, his phobia of germs eating at his mind.

“Breathe pretty boy.” Derek smiled, slapping Spencer’s arm across the table. Spencer inhaled slowly, looking around at all the people bustling around him. This was clearly not his scene.

“I didn’t expect it to be this crowded.” Spencer yelled over the noise.

Derek laughed, “Where’s the fun in an empty bar?” Spencer held back the glare that was fighting to make itself known. When he didn’t respond, Derek slapped his hands on the table. “I’m going to go get us drinks.”

Y/N scanned the crowd for Jasmine who had said twenty minutes ago that she was going to slip out to the bathroom.

After a few minutes of searching, she spotted her friend practically sitting in the lap of some stranger at a booth across the room. She laughed to herself, setting some cash down on the bar for their drinks before making her way through the crowd.

When she gets to the booth, Jasmine looks up at her. “Y/N, you found me.” Her words are a little slurred. Y/N forgot how much of a lightweight her friend is. “This is Derek. He’s an FBI agent.” She whispered the last bit, or thought she did but the men at the booth laughed.

Which is when she noticed the guy sitting opposite them. She made eye contact with him and smiled. She could feel her face get hot but she passed it off on the alcohol coursing through her veins.

He was cute. Y/N studied his face for a second, hoping he wouldn’t notice her blatantly checking him out. He looked pretty young. Obviously he was old enough to be an FBI agent but had she not known that, she would have guessed him to be fresh out of college.

His hair was longer but it suited him and he had really kind eyes that Y/N was drawn to. Even though he sitting, she could tell he was tall. His shoulders slumped slightly as if trying to fold in on himself, something she knew all too well being quite tall herself.

“Y/N.” She introduced herself, snapping out of her dazed state and returning her attention to Derek, who was the exact opposite of the guy she was just looking at. “Nice to meet you. Sorry, about my friend.” She joked.

Derek shook his head, a wide smile on his face. “Nothing to be sorry about.” Any other guy and she would have been pulling Jasmine away but there was something about Derek that was non-threatening. She somehow knew her friend was in good hands.

Literally, he had great hands. His muscled arm was wrapped tightly round Jasmine’s waist as she leaned into his side. Y/N would be lying if she didn’t admit to his obvious allure.

Y/N looked back over to the other guy, who she now noticed had been staring at her the whole time. Upon them locking eyes, he swallowed. “Is this seat taken?” She asks him, pointing to the empty spot beside him. He shakes his head, his hands falling nervously into his lap.

Spencer was mentally scolding himself for being at a loss of words, which he never was. He could rattle off facts about literally anything and talk for hours but right now, he was speechless.

Y/N slide into the booth beside him. “So, are you with the FBI too?” She asked, her hands cupping her glass. She figured he was but since he didn’t offer her a name, she figured she would try and make conversation.

He nodded. Derek cleared his throat and Spencer looked up at him, pleadingly. His friend just aggressively nodded in Y/N’s direction, a way of telling him to say something.

“I’m Spencer.” He squeaked out.

Y/N looked up from the table. “It’s nice to meet you Spencer.” She smiled. Spencer waited for the inevitable offering of her hand, getting prepared to explain how he doesn’t shake hands because the amount of germs that are passed in a handshake are staggeringly high.

His eyebrows pinched together when a few moments passed and her hands didn’t move from her glass. “You don’t shake hands?” He asked, slightly dumbfounded.

Y/N chuckled. “Did you want me to?” She asked, a smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth. Spencer’s cheeks ran crimson and Y/N smiled at herself. “Not on the job, don’t feel the need to be so formal.” She summed up, leaning against the worn leather of the booth.

“Where do you work?” It feels like such a dumb question but it’s left his mouth before he can process it. You’re at a cop bar, Spencer, where the fuck do you think?

“Alexandria PD.” Y/N answers without thought, sipping at her drink. “Been there for three years now.”

“Oh, don’t be so modest.” Jasmine waves her hand at her best friend, scoffing. She turns to Derek, pressing her pointer finger into his chest to accentuate her words. “She's the lead detective. Youngest to ever be promoted.”

Spencer’s eyes don’t leave Y/N while Jasmine talks. Y/N looks at her friend incredulously but there’s a small smile on her face and a blush is creeping up her neck. “I don’t like bragging.” She says to Jasmine, a small laugh leaving her lips.

Spencer has never been mesmerized before but he’s completely lost in Y/N’s laugh that he barely hears Jasmine continue talking.

“Pfft, it’s a big deal, Y/N. It’s not every day that a twenty-five year old gets promoted to that position.” Jasmine continues.

“Sounds like congratulations are in order.” Derek smiles, his eyes never leaving Jasmine. Y/N shakes her head. Jasmine is definitely not going home in the same car she came in.

“Thank you, but it’s not a new promotion.” She takes another sip of her beer, welcoming any distraction at this point. She hates it when she’s the center of attention.

“She never wants to celebrate her successes.” Jasmine tuts, rolling her eyes. She finally breaks eye contact with Derek to look at Spencer. “You know, she was top of her class at UCLA and has three masters. Three. I barely got through my one.” Jasmine hiccups at the end, nodding.

Derek looks over at Spencer and Y/N. “Looks like pretty boys gonna have a run for his money.”

Y/N looks over at Spencer, quirking an eyebrow. “Oh.”

Spencer’s cheeks darken but he doesn’t offer further explanation. Y/N looks to Derek for answers instead. “Three PhD’s.” He says, raising three of his fingers up in conjunction with his words.

Y/N nearly chokes on her beer. “Three?” Getting her master’s was hard enough she couldn’t fathom doing it again for her doctorates.

“He goes by doctor.” Derek winks at her.

“Morgan.” Spencer warns, looking up at him with stern eyes. Derek throws his hands up in surrender. “You don’t have to call me doctor.” He says to Y/N, running a hand through his hair. “He just likes messing me.”

Y/N smirks. It’s small and nearly imperceptible but Spencer notices and it makes his breathing pick up. “Who said I didn’t want to, Doc?” Spencer swallows, pressing his hands together to distract himself.

The conversation moves on but after a while, Jasmine and Derek are in their own little world, leaving Spencer and Y/N to talk.

She learns that he was the youngest person ever recruited for the FBI, a fact which he didn’t want to own up to. Similar to Y/N, he didn’t like the spotlight on him. Unlike Y/N, he had a reason to have the spotlight on him, which she told him after finding out he’s a literal genius.

“You can’t have an IQ that high and expect people to not put you at the center of their attention.” Spencer blushed at her words.

“I don’t mind your attention.” He replies, making Y/N’s heart skip a beat. “But normally, people are more annoyed by it than they are fascinated by it.”

Y/N tucks a pieces of hair behind her ear. “Well they’re clearly missing out.”

They talk for what feels like hours. Every new piece of information Y/N gets, she savors. There’s something about Spencer that makes her want to know everything about him. And she damn near does.

He doesn’t just work for the FBI, he works for the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI, which is like the best of the best. He has an eidetic memory and can read 20,000 words per minute, a skill which Y/N is borderline envious of, and he’s from Las Vegas. Which is where his mom lives, in a clinical facility because she has schizophrenia.

“I’m so sorry, that must be really hard on you.” Y/N says, placing her hand on Spencer’s arm soothingly. Her eyes are soft like her hand which he notices when he accidentally brushes it. She really means it.

Spencer learns that Y/N came to Virginia after university because her dad passed away and she was the only person in her family close to him. He left everything to her which also meant she had to go through all his belongings.

A tenant in his apartment building found him dead. The initial report said he had died of natural causes but after his autopsy they found signs of foul play. As it turns out, he was murdered. It’s what propelled Y/N to become a cop in the first place. “I set up base here and never looked back.”

He also learned that she’s probably the sweetest and funniest person he’s ever met, and he’s friends with Penelope and JJ. She’s smart, she seems to pick up on all his little quirks and respects them. And she’s beautiful, which he knew from the instant he saw her but is even more pronounced now that he’s getting to know her.

The two had been so engrossed in their conversation they didn’t notice that their friends were no longer sitting across from them. With a quick glance behind them, Y/N saw Jasmine slip out the front door, holding Derek’s hand and laughing flirtatiously.

Spencer groans next to her. “He was my ride home.”

“Did you really think the night was going to end any differently for those two?” Y/N asks, settling back into the seat.

“No.” Spencer relents. Without thinking, he reaches across Y/N and takes her drink, taking a few sips before realizing what he’s done. “Sorry.” He says, placing the cup down.

Y/N moves a fraction of an inch closer to him. “I don’t mind.” Her hand lightly brushes his thigh. “But, as you probably already know, we practically just kissed.”

Spencer’s breath hitches in his throat as Y/N’s hand comes to rest fully on his thigh, her fingertips lightly tracing circles on his inner thigh. He tries to focus on anything else but he can practically feel the blood rushing to his dick.

Y/N notices the change in his demeanor, leaning in closer so she can whisper. “I’ll stop if you want me to.” Y/N doesn’t know what’s come over her. Sure, she’s hooked up with guys she just met at the bar before but she’s never been this straightforward with someone. Not right off the bat, and definitely not with this much ease.

The tension between them has been palpable ever since she sat down an hour ago and now, with their friends gone, there was nothing stopping her from commenting on it.

Spencer shook his head at her words, mumbling something Y/N didn’t quite pick up on. “What was that, doc?” She emphasized the last word, her hand slowly moving up his thigh.

He started to bounce his right leg nervously. Y/N smirked. “I make you nervous?” He nodded slowly. Y/N stopped what she was doing, removing her hand and putting some space in between them. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” She was suddenly overcome with embarrassment, her actions finally seeping into the logical side of her brain.

“I didn’t tell you to stop.” Spencer nearly growled. Now it was Y/N’s turns to blush as she nervously looked over at him. There was a hunger in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. She unconsciously squeezed her legs together.

He leans closer to her until his lips are grazing her ear. “The bathroom’s empty, we could sneak away, no one would even notice.”

Y/N swallows at the implication. He’s been watching, waiting for the right moment to initiate whatever the fuck this was. Which means he knew it would get to this at some point.

Without a second thought, Y/N grabs his hand, hauling him out of the booth and making a beeline for the bathroom.

Just as Spencer had told her, the bathroom was empty. That, of course, didn’t stop her from checking all the stalls to make for certain that they were alone. Trust me, no one wanted to hear what was about to happen.

Spencer was still standing by the door, his once cocky demeanor now dwindling into the awkward nervousness that Y/N had grown to love about him.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” She says softly, grabbing both his hands. They just met, she doesn’t know what he has or hasn’t done before and while Y/N might have some experience with bathroom sex, she’s found that not all people do. In fact, it’s very rare for her to find someone who has.

Spencer lets go of her hands and for a split second she thinks he’s going to turn around and walk out but then his lips are on hers and she’s trying to get her brain to catch up because she’s missing it.

In a surge of confidence, Spencer cups Y/N’s face, smashing his lips against hers. After a moment, she kisses back, her hands coming up to run through his hair.

The moans that fall from her lips at the contact has him hard. He moves them so she’s the one pressed against the door, his hands coming down to grab her hips and pull her against him.

His tongue asks for entry and she gladly concedes. In a swift motion, she’s wrapped her legs around his waist, his hands supporting her by holding her thighs.

Y/N’s dress has been effectively hiked up from the change in position and while she respects his respect for her, she wants his hands on her. She reaches down to move them up until they’re resting on her bum. With a satisfied grin she pulls away from his lips.

He looks at her, out of breath and red in the face. “You’re not wearing underwear.” He breaths out.

She laughs, curling her finger around the hair at the back of his neck. “Actually, I was. Seemed to have lost them.” She shrugs innocently.

His eyes widen as he realizes what she’s saying. Something in her knew he would get it. He chastely kisses her cheek, his lips hovering over her ear. “You took them off, didn’t you? When you went to the restroom twenty-seven minutes ago.”

Y/N bites her lip, partially to fight back the laugh that wanted to come out knowing Spencer had counted the minutes, and nods. “Naughty, naughty girl.” He whispers, biting her ear. She gasps at the action, not expecting it, which propels him to grind against her.

“You gonna do something about it, doc?” She giggles, leaning forward to place a kiss on his collarbone.

Spencer moves them over to the sinks and sets her down on the counter, standing between her legs as he kisses her neck. Y/N starts to undo the buttons of his shirt just enough to expose his chest, which she runs her fingernails down, leaving red tracks in their wake.

“Fuck.” He groans, his forehead pressing into her chest. She lifts his head up to kiss him, fingers combing through his hair again, an action she’s coming to thoroughly enjoy.

“Do you have a condom?” Y/N asks as she kisses down his neck, her hands following in motion until they hit the top of his jeans.

Something about the question jars Spencer. Like his thoughts finally register exactly what he’s doing and the nerves slowly creep back into his stomach. He nods hastily, reaching into his back pocket where his wallet is. He sets it down beside Y/N on the counter.

Y/N unbuttons his pants and pulls the zipper down, tantalizingly slow, being careful to avoid touching his erection. Still attacking his neck with kisses, she pushes both his jeans and boxers down and they land bunched around his ankles.

She can’t help but look. I mean, really, it’s human nature to be curious.

His whole body is flushed red, or marked red by her fingernails and mouth, and that doesn’t exclude what he’s packing. And boy, is he packing. Y/N swallows at the sight.

Spencer avoids eye contact now that he’s fully exposed but Y/N is gentle in bringing his eyes to hers. She kisses him. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. Bathroom sex is just like normal, bed sex.” She laughs a little at her phrasing.

Spencer just nods nervously, reaching next to her to pick up the condom. He rips the package open and, with slightly shaking hands, focuses on putting it on.

After a few moments of fumbling hands, ragged breaths and a deep red blush that’s been slowly creeping up his neck, a smile slides across Y/N’s face. She places her hands over his and he looks up at her with worry in his eyes. “This is your first time doing this, huh?”

He swallows nervously, a small nod of his head indicating that her assumption was correct. “Like, ever?” He nods again. She responds by bringing his lips to hers. Y/N kisses him gently, a lot more calm and composed than they had been walking into this bathroom.

There’s still a nervousness about him but Y/N feels him relax into the kiss, slowly gaining back some of the confidence he had a minute ago. His tongue swipes over her bottom lip, her jaw dropping to allow him to search her mouth with his tongue as if he’s done this a hundred times before.

Had she not asked, she never would have guessed that he was a virgin. Aside from the obvious nerves, which she had passed off as a combination of alcohol and public sex, there was nothing about the way he held himself that made her second guess it.

His blush has completely taken over his face and it makes Y/N’s heart beat faster, if that is even possible because it was already running at a million beats per second. The taste of him overwhelms her senses which is why she lets out a small whine when he pulls away.

Spencer looks into Y/N’s eyes, his own glazed over with lust. “It’s okay.” She whispers, dragging her hand down his chest until it lands right above his sex. “I’ll teach you.”

He gulps, audibly gulps, as she wraps her hand around his cock. His forehead falls to her shoulder briefly as a barely audible “fuck” falls out of his mouth.

Y/N shuts her eyes and tries to contain the excitement boiling inside of her.

She slips the condom on with ease. Spencer watches her do it before looking up at her. Now she can see just how nervous he is. His hands are slightly fidgeting at his sides so she grabs them, placing them on her hips.

She scoots forward enough for access while still being supported by the granite beneath her. Spencer’s hold on her hips tightens.

Y/N hooks her hands behind his neck, giving him a nod of approval. “Whenever you’re ready, baby.” She whispers, looking in his eyes. Her entire demeanor has changed. She’s settled down so that he can enjoy this as much as possible and her eyes reflect that kindness.

Spencer removes one of his hands from her hips to help guide himself. He fumbles a little but after a few misses, his tip gently pushes into her. Y/N inhales sharply at the contact.

“Is this okay?” Spencer asks hesitantly, searching Y/N’s eyes for any sign of regret. She nods her head enthusiastically, a whimper falling from her lips.

“Yes, please, Spence, fuck me.”

He obliges, inching into her slowly until he’s buried to the hilt. “You okay?” He asks again, freezing his motions.

Y/N, overcome with pleasure, takes a minute to reply. “Please keep going.”

He finds a steady rhythm. It takes him a bit of time but he gets there eventually, fueled on by the soft moans that fall sporadically from Y/N’s lips. His thrusts are slow at first, picking up in speed as he grows more confident.

Spencer, being the person he is, knows everything there is to know about sex. But knowing about it and actually doing it are two very different things and he’s coming to that realization very fast.

Words cannot describe how good this feels. The way her walls clench around his cock with every thrust. The feeling of her hands on his back, fingers pressing little crescents into his skin hard enough to leave a bruise. And the noises she makes when he hits that perfect spot, encouraging him to continue.

Pure bliss is what it is. If this is what heaven’s like, Spencer Reid would gladly die in Y/N’s arms right now.

Y/N hooks her ankles around his waist, pulling him closer. She gasps out a moan at the new angle, her head falling back. Spencer somehow manages to pull her hips even closer. He thrusts faster but at a steady pace that has Y/N’s legs shaking.

“Spencer.” She moans when his lips attach onto her neck and start sucking the spot just above her collarbone. She’s close, which honestly shocks her. She also knows Spencer’s not going to last much longer, she doesn’t expect him to at least.

“Shit.” He mumbles against her neck.

“You gonna come?” Y/N asks between gasps of breath, one of her hands moving down to rub circles on her clit.

“Mmhmm.” Spencer moans.

“Then come baby,” She encourages, getting closer to her own release now that her fingers are working are her core, electricity jolting her body.

He tuts, a moan breaking the action. Y/N can tell he’s holding back. Spencer lifts his head so he’s looking at her and it nearly sends him over the edge, that look of pleasure plastered on her face. “Wanna wait, for, fuck- for you.” He manages out between moans.

“I’m right behind you baby, just let go.” As if under her complete control, Spencer releases and within a second is tumbling over that edge, stilling inside her. His orgasm knocks the breath out of him.

He’s jerked off before, had countless orgasms in the privacy of his own bed but nothing like this. Never like this. His head falls onto Y/N’s shoulder, slick with sweat.

The feeling of Spencer unloading inside her has Y/N coming, Spencer’s name leaving her lips in broken moans as she wraps her arms around him.

Spencer remains motionless for a minute, trying to catch his breath. Y/N can’t fathom trying to move right now, so she welcomes the stillness, her hands rubbing Spencer’s back.

After a moment, he stands up and helps clean Y/N up. She smiles the whole time at the gesture. After pulling his clothes back on, Spencer stands in front of Y/N.

“That was…” Spencer breathed out, his hands landing on Y/N’s thighs.

“Unexpected.” She finished his thought. “Amazing. Best you’ve ever had?” She laughs, her hands propped on his shoulders.

“I have nothing to compare it to but I’ll get back to you on that.” Y/N laughed.

“I’ll hold you to that.” She smiles. He leans in and kisses her softly.

“It was definitely something.” Spencer says as he helps Y/N down from the counter, balancing her when she stumbles slightly under her weight.

Spencer’s arm wraps around her waist. “It definitely was.”

“Did you really think the night was going to end any differently?” He asks, repeating the words she had said to him right before everything changed.

Y/N smiled, shaking her head. “Nope. It was just what the doctor ordered.”

#dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer x reader #this is not my best i dont think #but fuck it #hope you enjoyed #first time #reid x reader #mgg #Matthew Gray Gubler

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angstyaches · 3 years ago

Text

Drop

Again, this is quite heavy for this blog. Please heed the warnings! DM me for a summary, if you don’t want to actually read it because of any of the tags (I’ll make a post if anyone asks on anon). Stay safe, friends.

CW: disordered eating mention, alcohol, heights (inc. character struggling with fear of heights), angsty and dark thoughts, relationship problems being discussed, very brief but intense death ideation, mention of gore/injury (described by character, not real), danger of falling, mention of broken glass, emeto, food mention, blood mention

___

Shayne had hoped the bad thoughts would take longer to find him, but they were waiting for him just on the other side of his bedroom door in the townhouse. For the past two weeks, he’d eaten three meals a day with Charlie at his parents’ house, even if some of them were small, and he’d been imagining himself keeping it up once he got back, but now that he was alone, the shame and the feeling of helplessness that had always surrounded food came flooding back.

When dinner time rolled around that evening (he knew it was dinner time because his stomach remembered), he felt Madelyn’s phantom breath on his neck and ignored the hunger. He crawled into his bed and tried forcing himself to sleep before his body could realise it was being deprived.

But god, he was just a needy, greedy little black hole of a creature, a sap on the world so long as you’re not fulfilling your duty, an insult to flesh and bone, nothing but darkness and hunger and waste and –

Shayne sat up in bed and squeezed his head between his hands. He’d gotten so used to Charlie’s constant presence and warmth, that he was already feeling unbearably lonely without him.

Stupid Charlie, he thought, feeling a flutter of affection in his chest as he pictured Charlie’s head resting on his shoulder. And then, a sinking feeling.

In the absence of Madelyn’s voice in his head, Shayne realised how… quiet everything else was. Ryan and Nancy were probably still travelling in Europe, but Elliott and Felix should have been here.

He’d half-expected Felix to come pounding on his door around this time, raving about whatever he was cooking and asking questions about Shayne’s Christmas. But the fact that the townhouse was this silent was extremely unpleasant.

Shayne let himself into the hallway, pausing and holding his breath, scanning for any signs of life. He could have done this easily if he’d been in a forest, but houses and urban settings were always trickier. He picked up a flash of something, a thrum of a heartbeat, but it sent his head spinning and he had to stop concentrating. It seemed to be coming from Elliott and Felix’s room, even though he hadn’t heard a single stir in there since he’d gotten home.

“Hello?” he asked softly, pushing the door open slowly.

He wasn’t surprised that it was cold in the bedroom beyond, but a breeze took him right in the face. Papers had been gently blown across the floor, and a vase holding a fake rose had been knocked from the windowsill onto the floor.

Nobody was in here. This wasn’t where he’d sensed somebody.

The view of the town was incredible from this height, four storeys up. It was around dusk, so there were lights blinking to life in houses and office buildings even as Shayne stood by the open window and rested his hands on the sill.

“Elliott?” he called out quietly, leaning his head outside. The distance from his face to the street below was dizzying.

“The fuck do you want?” came a curt reply, which made Shayne look to his right. The moulding on the outside of the building was about a metre wide, enough for Elliott to slump against the brick wall with a glass balanced on his knee and a bottle grasped in the opposite hand.

His hair was loose of its usual ponytail, as well as being greasy and dishevelled from having fingers constantly dragged through it. He was scraping it back with his left hand at that very moment, eyes glazed over as he looked up at the sky.

“When’d you get back?”

“Uh, today. Earlier.” Shayne could hear how high-pitched his voice had gotten, but what could he do about it? He couldn’t stop wondering how Elliott’s weight wasn’t forcing him to slink further down, legs pulling him over the edge. “El, what are you doing? Someone’s gonna see you out there.”

“So?” Elliott shrugged. “Maybe I’ll become a Reddit legend.”

“I have no idea what that means,” Shayne sighed. “What’re you doing out there? Are you okay?”

Elliott blinked, the motion slowed by the darkness and an unknown amount of whisky. “Come here, and I’ll show you.”

Shayne would have really preferred not to, but it didn’t look like Elliott was coming to him anytime soon. He turned around and sat up into the windowsill, slowly shifting his legs around so his feet touched the moulding. He breathed hard, tried not to look at the fall below, and told himself that if it could hold Elliott’s weight, it could hold his.

“You know, inside, there are floors and – and chairs,” he stammered, edging closer to Elliott before lowering himself to a seated position. He didn’t slump like Elliott though; his hands were pressing the concrete, stiff as pillars. “Lots of nicer and safer places to sit and drink whisky.”

“Mmph.”

The words barely seemed to reach Elliott’s ears.

“So, what’s up?” Shayne asked.

When Elliott smiled, it was a sick thing that twisted the lower half of his face without touching the rest. He looked past the rim of his glass and out across the town. Shayne wouldn’t have been surprised if his glare had caused a sudden flash of lightning to tear through the clouds.

The silence seemed to press in further, the sound of traffic fading away as though a bubble had descended on the rooftop.

“Where’s… Felix?” Shayne already had the feeling that the answer wasn’t going to be good.

“I don’t know.” Elliott pursed his lips. “Think he’s left me.”

A cold stone seemed to drop through Shayne’s stomach. He couldn’t begin to imagine what the equivalent of that felt like for Elliott. “What? Why?”

After a slight roll of his eyes, Elliott reached into the pocket of his trousers, fidgeting with something before pulling out a ring. He twirled it between his thumb and his figure, examining it up-close for a second before holding it out.

“Oh.” Shayne eyed the ring for a moment before reluctantly lifting one hand – one of his supportive pillars – and letting Elliott place it in his palm. “I take it he said no?”

“No, he didn’t say no. He didn’t say… anything.”

“Is that – is that better, or worse?”

“Fuck if I know.”

“Sorry, El.” Shayne gulped and stared at the ring, only managing to hold onto it for a couple of seconds. Elliott had already taken his eyes off of it, his attention snagged by his drink again. A slight breeze across his skin made Shayne shudder, as though it could possibly throw him off balance. Mostly, it was just cold and unpleasant. “Here, take it back. I’m gonna drop it or something.”

“Why would you drop it?” Elliott asked with a grunt, reaching to pick up the ring. His fingertips lingered a moment as he realised how badly Shayne’s hand was trembling. “Fuck, man, are you okay?”

“Mmm.” Shayne put his hand down next to him again, fingers aching under the pressure he was putting on them.

“What’s up?” Elliott scoffed lightly. “You gonna hurl?”

“Maybe,” Shayne admitted. “I’ve never been up this high before.”

“Jesus, you’re such a drama queen.” Elliott planted a hand down and pushed himself to his feet. His movements were as swift and graceful as a panther, even while drunk, and he seemed to tower unreasonably high over Shayne as he straightened his back and stretched his arms over his head. He almost reached the roof tiles that jutted out over the top floor. A strong gust of wind could probably have toppled him, especially considering how much whisky was probably flooding his system.

Elliott’s feet made a scraping sound on the concrete as he lowered his arms, laughing deep in his chest.

“Elliott, stop! Just sit the fuck down.”

“Why?” Elliott’s voice was no stronger than a breath. He closed his eyes for a worrying amount of time, his shoulders swaying slightly as his arms hung by his side like weights. “Would you care if I fell?”

Shayne got a sinking feeling, for what seemed like the hundredth time in ten minutes. “What kind of question is that?”

“Do you think I’d die, actually?” Elliott perked up again, unnervingly so. He opened his eyes and lifted his glass slightly. He craned his neck to look over the edge of the moulding. He hummed, like he was pondering whether he should buy a pair of shoes in black or in brown. “I’m fairly sure that fully-developed vampires can only die if they’re burned alive, but… I wonder how thoroughly that’s been tested.”

“Elliott –”

“I’ve had a decent run. In human years, I’m almost seventy, you know? That’s longer than a lot of people end up with…”

Shayne didn’t know if he should have been trying to grab Elliott to stop him from teetering so close to the edge, or if that would make everything worse. He could barely breathe, let alone think.

“It’d still fucking hurt either way, though.” Elliott threw back the last mouthful of his drink and smacked his lips. “Bones poking up through my organs, probably bits of me exploding on impact –”

“Elliott, seriously, you’re just being an asshole now, just sit down!”

“Would it make him come back, if I was injured like that?” Elliott demanded, his golden eyes piercing and intense. He was beginning to lapse into clumsy arm gestures, his voice rising higher with emotion. “Would it put everything into perspective, Shayne? Would it fix everyone’s problems if I was maimed? Or if I was completely and utterly de–?”

Shayne’s stomach turned, his hands flying to his face, as the whisky glass shuddered and dropped out of Elliott’s hand. It disappeared from view, faster than the sick grin could fall from Elliott’s face.

The shatter was tiny; Shayne had to really strain his ears to hear it. He watched Elliott blink tears down his face and slowly lower himself to his haunches. He opened his mouth wide, like he was going to scream, but no sound came out.

“Hey,” Shayne whispered, letting go of a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. He stretched out one hand, trying to gently catch Elliott’s attention. “El. Elliott.”

Elliott didn’t move. He stayed crouched, one hand gripping the edge of the moulding, his face hovering over the side. When he blinked, tears fell and missed the building completely, dropping straight to the sidewalk that was four storeys down.

“El, come on.”

All the way down to the sidewalk –

“Elliott.”

He turned his head, swaying a little, and for a moment Shayne thought that was it, that he was gone, he’d lost his balance. Shayne sat forward on his heels, instinctively making an uncalculated grab for his cousin’s hand, but luckily Elliott was reaching back too; two fumbling hands happened to fumble in the right directions at the right time.

“Fuck,” Elliott whimpered, steadying himself on his feet again. Shayne could feel both their pulses in their joined hands, Elliott’s almost explosive. “We should… We should probably get off this thing.”

“Oh, you think?” Shayne snapped, though he clung to Elliott’s hand like a toddler to a parent as the two of them edged back over towards the window. He hopped in through the window first, turning to make sure Elliott was following him. The taller man hit his head on the open window, making the frame shudder as he shut his eyes and winced.

“Shit, are you okay?” Shayne held out a hand to help him make it the rest of the way.

“I’m fine, get off me,” Elliott growled, shoving Shayne away from him and storming over to the bed.

“Fuck heights,” Shayne murmured, pulling the window shut with more force than was probably necessary. It released some of the fear that had been pinching his nerves though, and his head felt clearer. “We should probably go down to the street and clean that glass up before someone –”

“Shut up.”

Shayne shrugged, gazing at Elliott as he sat at the edge of his bed, head resting in his hands. “Is – is your head okay, or –?”

“What’d I just say?”

“You said to shut up, but how the fuck do you expect me not to ask you if you’re okay? You almost fell off the fucking… roof!” Shayne smacked his hand on the bedpost as he walked by, partially on purpose. “Fuck you, Elliott.”

“Calm down, man,” Elliott snarled, his head shooting up from his hands. “Come on, you seriously think that’s the closest I’ve ever come to dying?”

“You can’t…” Shayne stopped by the door to the hallway, eyes lowered. “You can’t do shit like that, you can’t talk like that. I don’t care if he’s left you, if the world’s falling to shit, if you think nobody cares about you being around, you can’t…”

A sob broke the air, and Shayne froze, turning to watch as Elliott hunched over at the edge of the bed, his head ducking and disappearing from his silhouette.

“I’m… sorry.”

Having never heard such a heart-wrenching sound from Elliott before, Shayne found himself hurrying back to the bed. He sat down next to Elliott and let him sink his head against his shoulder and cry, his body convulsing with what seemed to be days’ worth of pent-up agony and sadness. Shayne felt utterly useless; he couldn’t guarantee that everything would be alright with Felix, because how the hell could he possibly know that?

“Ugh, fuck,” Elliott exclaimed, his shoulders jerking forward with a sob so deep that it sounded more like a hiccup. He clamped a hand over his mouth, the other lifting to tentatively cover the front of his head, where he’d hit it on the window.

“You okay, man?” Shayne asked hoarsely.

Elliott shook his head, face paling even in the dull light.

“You gonna hurl?” Shayne murmured, wondering if the irony would be lost on Elliott in his current state. He was already getting to his feet, remembering that Felix kept a metal bin under his desk.

“Mmmph.” Elliott nodded furiously, only releasing his mouth from his hand once Shayne had thrust the bin at him. Saliva glistened on his lips as he hovered, breathing heavily. His eyes were red and swollen and he was still gently kneading his head.

A deep retch rolled his shoulders and made him duck his head further into the bin. Shayne grimaced and almost put a hand on Elliott’s shoulder before remembering that that would have been a terrible idea. He stood by the desk instead, arms folded around his waist, flinching in time with Elliott’s horrifying gagging.

When Elliott’s face resurfaced, he was gasping and spitting out mouthfuls of thick bile and saliva, tinged only slightly with the golden hue of the heavy liquor.

“Jesus,” he choked out. “How hard did I hit my head?”

After a disbelieving glance towards the window, Shayne scoffed. “Your head? What about the god-knows-how-much whisky in your system right now?”

“Alright, whatever,” Elliott groaned. He pawed at a thick strand of his hair that was stuck to the side of his face and trailing into the bin itself, tossing it over his shoulder. Just in time too, since the next retch was deep and abrupt and dragged a rumbling belch up alongside a gush of foamy alcohol and stomach acid.

Between gags, Elliott let thick liquid drip from his mouth into the bin, body shivering with the effort it took to bring everything up. It went on for so long that Shayne was certain Elliott was going to fall asleep with his head in the bin.

Eventually, Elliott sat upright, grabbing a tissue from the nightstand and dragging it across the lower half of his face. He tossed it into the bin and reached for another one.

“Want me to get you some water? Or, like, blood?”

“No.” Elliott sighed deeply, dropping the second tissue into the bin before he began to scoop his hair back from his face and neck. “I’ve been drinking on an empty stomach for two days. I wanna go get chips.”

“Chips?”

“Yes. Can you grab one of Felix’s scrunchies from his side?”

Shayne did as he was asked, mostly in a daze, rounding the bed to get to Felix’s bedside locker. There was a pile of hair ties sitting alongside a handheld cassette player.

“Can you even eat?” Shayne asked, leaning across the bed to hand one of the hair ties to Elliott. “You know, with all of your full-vampire shit going on?”

“Seriously, you little asshole?” Elliott snapped, his voice scratchy and weak. “My life is falling down around me and you’re trying to deny me chips?”

Shayne quickly shook his head, a little bit grateful for the bloodcurdling glare that Elliott was currently treating him to. He got up from the bed again as Elliott tended to his hair. “Let me just grab a jacket.”

#idk how I originally wanted it to end but I can't look at it anymore #Swallow the World #StW Thicker than Blood #vampire emeto #emeto #emeto fic #emeto sickfic #angst fic #angst #death mention #death ideation mention #alcohol #alcohol mention

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saemi-the-writer · 3 years ago

Note

Is it possible to ask about an akuma and have your version of the episode like you did with Copycat and Reflekta? I'd like to ask for Pixelator please!

Sure! Thanks for asking!

I'm also answering another anon at the same time:

I agree, but in the show's defence, we only see Penny handing the tickets to Alya, Marinette and Adrien, Sabrina is off-screen at that moment so my HC might work as well here! But that would have been a bit unfair to Nino. While I'm not saying Adrien doesn't deserve the ticket, I just wish they would have shown us Adrien actually being active/working while Chloé is busy painting her nails or just snuggling (forcingly) to him. That would have created a clear contrast and him getting the ticket would make more sense (it would be unfair to penalize him when he was attacked by an akuma after all).

Now, critics of canon asides here's Pixelator in Miraculous Team. [Just added a small edit]

(setting in February, after Dark Cupid)

The premise is quite the same, with Marinette's class being assigned various jobs in Mr Bourgeois' hotel. Ms Bustier reminds her students that it will be an important experience before their internship in March (in France, unless it changed, students in middle and high schools have to do a week-long internship in any enterprise and write a report. This mark is/was very important for the school report).

Ms Bustier then points out to Mr Bourgeois that both Alya and Marinette haven't been assigned yet. Same as canon, Chloé is the one who meddled with the distribution; Alya is very disgruntled when told she has to work at waste sorting of course, and Jagged Stone makes his entrance. While Mr Bourgeois is busy with him, Ms Bustier discreetly requests Marinette and Alya to try and do their best at whatever job they are assigned, assuring them she would take into account Chloé's meddling for their marks. The two girls snickers as they see their teacher write something quickly in red in her notes, and Marinette finally gets to know what her job is.

The scene with Vincent is the same, he's sneaking in the hotel to take photos of Jagged but gets caught and thrown out. He gets akumatized quickly after.

Adrien shows signs of annoyance at Chloé's attitude, he has less patience with her now and he's trying to work seriously at reception.

Meanwhile, Marinette has to try to find these Eiffel tower glasses; Penny, worried about Jagged's image and aware they are dealing with a young teen, acts more friendly and tells Marinette it's okay if she doesn't find anything. But Marinette, being a perfectionist, has a hard time accepting to go back either empty-handed or with a pair of glasses that doesn't match her favourite singer's description. Tikki then suggests she makes them herself, and after checking that Jagged isn't asking for something from a famous brand, Marinette rushes back home to do so.

Pixelator enters the hotel, and it goes quite similar with Chloé telling him to leave and Adrien getting captured with her, trying to protect her. Adrien gets a bit more stressed during the confinement in this endless white room, he asks Plagg if the Cataclysm would work here, to which Plagg answers "There's nothing a Cataclysm cannot destroy."

When Marinette comes back, she frowns at Chloé and Adrien's absence at the desk, grumbling to Tikki "I'm sure Chloé found some excuse to drag Adrien around, that pest!". Penny is quite puzzled when she gets the glasses, she asks Marinette where she found them and is very impressed when told she made them herself. She offers her tip, saying "For your effort, thank you." with a wink. Marinette would have wanted to know if Jagged like them but walks away, then she sees Pixelator attacking Penny.

The following fight is quite the same, Ladybug saves Jagged from Pixelator but her right hand gets pixelated. She hides Jagged in her middle-school and tries to look for who the akumatized person could be. Meanwhile Pixelator attack civilians, Nadja and her cameraman do an interview of him - but with the intention to warn people and in hope the heroes will arrive after watching the news. Pandora arrives just in time before he tries to capture them; she uses her power "Parade" so he stays focused on her, as they fight, one of her fans gets hit and she realizes that she cannot use her usual counter-attacks. Ladybug joins her but Pandora gets captured and Ladybug's leg is hit too, so she offers a deal to him, the same as canon. Fiancé tells him to refuse, of course, but Pixelator still agrees to free half of his prisoners.

"Only civilians. You understand that I am keeping your friend in as a guarantee."

The scene where Adrien talks to Nino is a bit longer, Nino is both startled but relieved to see his best friend is okay. Adrien tells him they must raise the alarm in case the akuma comes back to the hotel and sneaks away to transform. When he joins Ladybug, he's about to reach for Pixelator's camera when a civilian cheers a bit too loudly for him.

Chat Noir offers a plan to Ladybug: he lets himself be captured so he can destroy the pixel prison and free all the remaining civilians and Pandora. Ladybug isn't very happy about it, but she doesn't refute it. The moment Chat Noir gets hit, she uses her Lucky Charm. Jagged appeared and distracts Pixelator long enough for Ladybug to hop close enough and Chat Noir to cataclysm the white room and - like in canon - she throws the mirror at him and he sent him right in front of Jagged so the beam fires back on Pixelator.

After using the miraculous cure, Ladybug purifies the akuma. Pandora congratulates and thanks them both.

Meanwhile, aways from prying eyes, we see the civilian who got Chat Noir spotted making a call. His face changes ("off camera") and he puts on a white, smooth mask.

"It's a failure. But we got some energy still. Hm? Him? No, he's not worthy enough to join us. Too obsessed and creepy. We already have our hands full with Fiancé, two like him wouldn't be funny anymore. Alright, let's meet later. See ya, Archess."

The organisation doesn't get a new member this time.

At the end of the day, Mr Bourgeois thanks and congratulate all the students for their work, and Penny goes to Ms Bustier and gives her 5 tickets for Jagged Stone's next concert, announcing they are for the five students who were most engaged in their work. She sends a discreet wink to Bustier and another to Marinette as the teacher hands them out. Alya, Nino, Marinette and Kim get a ticket - to their greatest joy - but when Bustier offers one to Sabrina, the latter feels bad for Chloé (who is already throwing a tantrum) and refuses it politely, so Adrien gets the last one. Adrien feels bad for Sabrina, he insists she takes it, affirming "I can buy my own, please take it. You deserve it!" but Sabrina keeps her decision.

Once she's alone with Chloé, she says "It's alright, we can have a slumber party together or find something else to do, you prefer XY anyway!" but Chloé ignores her and stomps away, ditching her. Alone in the corridor, Sabrina gets second thoughts. "Maybe I should have taken it..."

At the concert, the five teenagers are thrilled and Marinette is amazed that Jagged dedicated a song to the heroes "especially the one who saved my life. This is for you, Ladybug."

The music starts and Adrien takes both Nino and Marinette's hand in his as they started bouncing. Alya laughs at Marinette's expression and takes her free hand in hers.

[Edit: it is also announced, before the tickets are given, that Vincent was arrested and Jagged asked for a restraining order against him.]

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iinfortunii · 4 years ago

Text

rules: code of conduct.

BEGIN.

Before we start, I would like you to have certain things in mind when approaching me ooc. I am very shy and quite awkward, which results in me not being much of a talker; however, I will always try my best to be friendly to whoever wants to approach. I dislike pet names so please do not use them with me unless we are very close. There will be times when I'm just exhausted, so my wording could sound rude/aggressive, to which I apologize in advance -I never mean to hurt people’s feelings. I also reserve the right to interact with WHOEVER I want, and pestering me about it will only get you blocked.

Updates will be made as required.

I. BASIC.

A. This blog is: Selective / Independent / Canon Divergent / NSFW / Mutuals only / Singleship / Mostly iconless / Multiverse / AU, Crossover, OC, and Multimuse friendly / Vaguely affiliated with the OP RP fandom.

B. I am a very slow rper for many reasons —school, family, my ever-fluctuating mood —and I would appreciate it if you refrained from pestering me for replies. In return I offer as much patience as necessary. Think of this blog as low activity please.

C. English is not my mother language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes made.

D. I track the tag #iinfortunii, although mentioning me works just as fine.

E. Constructive criticism is always welcome but anon hate will be immediately deleted. I have no problems if you disagree with my portrayal, but it doesn't give you the right to harass me.

F. Mun and muse are both over 18, so there are chances that heavy content will be present; however I won't be writing smut. I can roleplay anything before or after the act if requested, but the moment things get far too explicit, I'll do a fade-to-black. I ask of you to not lie about your age or else you’ll be blocked indefinitely.

G. This is a heavily headcanon-based blog, and changes are likely to be made as more information is revealed about him, though I reserve the right to adjust the new information according to my interpretation of Deuce or simply ignore it, which is why I’m canon divergent.

H. If you'd like to turn an ask into a thread, you can turn it into a new post, or reblog from me, as I won't be using the Tumblr asks anymore due to the problems that come with formatting and such.

I. Ask box is open for everyone ic or ooc, but you aren't allowed to turn it into a thread and nor I will reply to it if we’re not mutuals. Please don't push me, because I won't hesitate to block.

J. No godmoding —only a minor is allowed if it moves a thread forward —or metagaming, please. Don't kill Deuce either, unless plotted beforehand, and most importantly, don't hold your muse back.

K. Discord is available for mutuals upon request.

L. Just because I write something it does not mean I condone it. Please have this in mind and again, do not pester me about it. Any and all nsfw matters will be tagged accordingly. There will be triggering topics present, and you can know more about this on the section below.

M. DO NOT involve me in drama or call-out posts. I’m heavily against both things. On this note, you’ll never see me rebloging a call-out post. This culture is so damaging and toxic, and I firmly believe no one should play the role of the judge for the good of the community just because you had issues with someone or don’t agree with the things they roleplay. Talk things privately, be mature about it, hard-block the person and move on. I am also very aware that a lot of people have done things that can’t be excused, but I like to believe that people can change for the better. If you try to drag me into it, I'll hard block any and all people involved indefinitely.

II. TRIGGERS.

A. They will be tagged as trigger tw, trigger / and trigger cw.

B. I do my best to stay up to date with my mutuals triggers. Your comfort is way more important to me than you might think, so never be hesitant to approach me via IM, (anonymous) ask or stop following me.

C. Triggers that are likely to appear, although some more than others: violence || blood || death || drugs || abuse || knives || body image || medical equipment || suggestive content || etc

D. I have no triggers, so you are free to go wild with your content. I only ask you remember to tag your nsfw (both written and visual), please.

III. INTERACTIONS.

A. Deuce won't like everyone. He might/will make wrong assumptions about your character. He will insult and bite back. He won't always be nice to those he likes. He does many things that serve his interests. You, as the mun, have no reason to take it personal, because I'm won't follow someone I don't like; if you DO take it personal however, and decide to rouse drama, then I'll be hard-blocking you. Goes for me as well —I have no reason to get angry for any of the things noted above.

B. My bonds page displays the relationships that have been built over time, not necessarily through interaction alone but over plotting as well. Refer to it for more information.

C. Interactions with OCs related to canon characters will only take place as long as said OCs have a detailed about page. Personally, I'm not interested in the idea of an OC being blood-related to my portrayal, so I apologize in advance.

D. Formatting isn’t a big thing across my blogs, save for the small text. Please don’t mix either sup/sub with small text when writing with me, as I have eyesight problems. Don’t use colored text either.

E. Non-romantic pre-established relationships are allowed! Just make sure to talk it out with me first, yeah?

01. Spade / Whitebeard pirates (canon and original characters alike that i am MUTUALS with) will have a pre-established relationship as long as the other mun is comfortable with such idea, though that relationship will be limited to merely crewmates, unless discussed otherwise.

F. You don’t need to match my writing length as long as I’m given enough to work with. If something about my reply bothers or doesn’t work with you, let me know and I’ll re-work it.

G. I really enjoy plotting scenarios or talking out about the relationships my muse could have with other muses, so hit me up if you’ve got any ideas! I’ll try to do the same!

H. Mun does not equal muse, so don’t go assuming I’m a jerk simply because Deuce is an asshole from time to time. I’m set on the idea that I’ll give people the same treatment they give me —which is always nice and kind. Kudos to everyone for this ♡

I. I don’t use a threadtracker because I rely on my memory (terrible mistake, I know), but I try to draft people’s replies as soon as I see them. If by any reason it seems like I lost it, then please let me know / send me a link with it and I’ll be deeply grateful.

J. I don’t do nor reply to greetings starters for matters of my own comfort, so I ask of you to never expect a starter or a reply from them.

IV. SHIPPING.

A. Singleship, with the spot taken by daadzi, which means Deuce is no longer open for romantic relationships.

01. Under no circumstances, I will accept more romantic relationships once the spot is taken. That being said, I won’t discourage your muse from falling for / hitting on him, although I ask you to understand he will never respond with the same interest or will never react gently if he’s pushed too far.

02. If my shipping partner is comfortable enough, I'll interact with duplicates with the condition that the relationship is strictly platonic.

B. Constant interaction, mutual interest, and chemistry are a must for the sake of better communication (both ic and ooc, preferably).

C. Please do not approach me if you wish our characters to have either a: one night stand or friends with benefits type of relationships. It won’t work out due to the nature of Deuce’s personality, and for that I apologize.

E. My ship has its own tag so you're free to block it if you don't want to see it on your dashboard. In addition, I'll also tag those posts with only the ship name for this very purpose.

F. Please do not force ships on me.

V. CELEBRATIONS.

A. First off, I am absolutely terrible at keeping up with dates, and to be frank, I am not the biggest fan of celebrating, which is why I think it’s necessary to say I won’t be partaking in any holidays, not even Deuce’s birthday (not that he has one, to begin with). Obviously I will still reply to any gifts received, and will send out things in return —you know, common courtesy.

B. I won't be sending out birthday gifts every year, and I might write drabbles for people once in a blue moon; it doesn’t mean they will be done for the specific date though, so please be patient.

VI. REASONS TO NOT FOLLOW BACK / UNFOLLOW.

A. Too much drama / call-outs / vague posts / sexual content.

B. Content makes me uncomfortable.

C. You are a personal blog without a visible rp sideblog. Please make sure it's easy to find.

D. You do not have a proper tag system.

E. Your blog doesn’t have a rules and about pages.

F. You lack the manners to deal with people respectfully.

G. I have no interest / lost interest.

H. I'm constantly / only used as a meme archive.

I. Other reasons may apply. I will soft block so we can both cease following each other and avoid any potential awkward situations. I won’t make a fuss if you decide to unfollow so I expect the same courtesy.

VII. ABOUT BEATRICE.

She is not a real person. Her concept as Deuce’s (toxic) pseudolover is my creation and was somewhat inspired from the real life Beatrice Portinari. Do have in mind that Deuce doesn’t talk about her so your muse can’t simply approach him and ask about her unless they can go through his memories / read his mind / any capability alike or he speaks about her, though it won't take a genius to figure out that she's a product of his imagination.

You can read about her by clicking here -link to be added.

She serves as a lie to shield himself from the internalized homophobia he deals with up until meeting Ace.

NOTE: As stated previously, Mun =/= muse, but I too have been dealing with compulsory heterosexuality for far too long, so I'd like to apologize in advance for projecting a bit of that into my portrayal. I'll work so that this part makes sense with what we've been given from Ace's novel.

VIII. MISCELLANEOUS.

A. I will never force people to follow me, so if by any reason you have to unfollow/block me, please go ahead. Your comfort matters and have every right to do what you must to ensure your wellbeing. With that said, I will not tolerate and will immediately hard block if you try to police my content.

B. I do not follow back immediately, and it can take me from a few hours to several days to follow back. Do not take it personally if I choose not to.

C. If I follow it’s because I am interested in interacting. I only ask you to be patient because it might take me a while to gather the courage to send something to your inbox or talk to you.

D. I have. ZERO knowledge about medicine. Don’t expect me to go full force and try to be 100% accurate, because I won’t.

E. I practice reblog karma (send a meme to someone if I’m rebloging it from them). If you see something you’d like to reblog but have no intention in sending something yourself, then please reblog from the source.

IX. FINISH.

Thank you for taking the time to read this! As you might have noticed, there’s no password to send. Make sure to check the psa tag for any updates, or don’t hesitate to send an ask if there’s anything unclear! I do my best so as not to post too much OOC posts, but sometimes it just happens. If it's nothing important, then I'll erase it whenever I have the chance/remember.

Keanu Reeves vc: You’re all breathtaking!

#pinned post.#long post #❝ —talking nonsense ; ooc #❝ —off to new adventures ; queue #ooc.#queue.#[ this is a very long post btw ]

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xiubaek-13 · 5 years ago

Text

Not Much of a Sex God

Requested by anon: Hi author nim! Can you please write a scenario where the reader sleeps with either Xiumin, Baekhyun or Chen and they act like they are the best sex she'll ever have but they actually suck in bed? I think your sarcasm would fit this perfectly.

Ok so I love you anon. I have had the best time writing this because I keep laughing at how mean I'm being and it's just been so much fun. <3 I'm so mean omg.

Reader x Baekhyun

Warnings: Fuckboy Baekhyun, smut, teasing.

Word Count: 4,752

"I gave her the best sex of her life, she should thank me!" You didn't think you could roll your eyes any harder even if your life depended on it. The guy at the booth behind you had been bragging about his sexual prowess the entire time you'd been in the club. You'd come out to celebrate your friend getting a promotion at work, not to hear about how magical some dude's dick was and all the adventures it had been on. His friends weren't much better but this guy was definitely the loudest. You made a mental note to glance at the table when you next went to the bar to put faces to 3 men that you were not ever going home with. In your experience guys who felt the need to talk about how excellent in bed they were generally were lousy lays. "Hyung, it was so fucking hot. I was pounding into her and she was screaming my name like I was her new religion. Aish, you wish you were as godlike in bed as I am." The nerve of this jerk. Who has this much self confidence?! You felt slight satisfaction when you heard one of his friends tell him to shut up.

You looked across the table at your two friends Mina and Soojung. Mina had gotten a promotion at work and Soojung had dragged both of you out to celebrate. Soojung had always been the lively one of the three of you. She was always up for adventure, especially if there was dancing or alcohol involved. Mina on the other hand had always been the mother of the group. She was the youngest but she was the only one who seemed to have her life sorted out. Mina had a long term boyfriend who doted on her, she had a great job in a marketing agency and had just been promoted to team leader for a whole floor of the office. Soojung had almost finished her doctorate at university and she worked all kinds of strange and varied jobs to help pay for her education. The three of you used to live together but Mina moved out last Spring to live with her boyfriend. You were a personal assistant for a stock broker so your work hours varied depending on his schedule. Thankfully this week he was on holidays with his wife and children so all you had to do was turn up to the office during normal business hours and sort through messages and emails.

It was rare for the three of you to get together at a club these days. Mina was clearly disgusted with the way this guy was talking about his conquests. You were unfortunately used to it. High finance bred a lot of rich jerks and they loved to over share about their weekends and sexual escapades. It annoyed you how they spoke about the women as though they were just objects and had lost all value once they'd been fucked. You recalled the one unfortunate work Christmas party when you went home with one of the brokers only to hear him bragging about you a couple of days later. What he'd been describing in detail to his co-workers was definitely what the two of you had done but he sure hadn't rocked your world. He had been only interested in chasing his own release and in no way cared about your needs. In that moment you were so enraged that you walked straight over to the desk he'd been leaning against and tapped him on the shoulder. He shot you an overconfident smile when he saw you. "Sorry babe, I don't do seconds. You know it was a one time thing right? It would be unfair to all the other men out there if you kept getting to have me."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you think I actually wanted to sleep with you again after the other night? No. I just wanted to let you know that for the good of all women you need to either learn how to properly fuck a woman or just stop having sex because what transposed between us was in no way pleasurable or exciting. You should treat women different to your own hand or just stick to masturbating." You remembered how hard his co-workers were laughing as you walked away.

You looked over at Soojung. She'd been uncharacteristically quiet since the fuckboy in the next booth had started bragging. You nudged her with your foot. "Hey, you good?" She nodded.

"That dude is just killing the vibe. Also my drink is almost empty Mina, it 's your round next isn't it?" Mina nodded and practically ran from the booth, happy to get 5 minutes away from the other booth. You were out to celebrate Mina's promotion but you couldn't help laughing becasue you were certain she would have preferred a nice dinner somewhere not a drunken dance night. That was all Soojung.

As soon as Mina was gone Soojung leant towards you. "Hana told me about this guy. He's here with his two friends every week and he brags about some girl he's fucked every single week. Hana slept with him like a year and a half ago and she told me he had no idea how to please her in bed then we came here one night and saw him bragging about how great he was. Hana was so pissed off and embarrassed." Great. So he was exactly like the guys in your office. At least you knew how to deal with them. Soojun knew how you dealt with fuckboys so you figured this was why she was telling you about Hana and Mr. Thinks He's A Sex God in the next booth. That poor girl.

You weren't shy so if you liked a guy and wanted to sleep with him you did just that. If you ever heard them bragging about how amazing they were and how lucky you were to have slept with them you would walk straight up to them and give them an assessment of their skills in front of everyone. Guys at work mostly stopped trying to sleep with you because they thought you were a bitch but some saw it as a challenge. They jumped at the chance that they'd be the ones who would rock your world and they would then truly be a god among men. So far, it hadn't happened. They were either too eager to please, showed off too much or simply lacked any skill in making you come. These guys needed to be taught a thing or two about passion and mutual pleasure. Possibly even a certain guy in a nearby booth. You'd just have to see how the night played out.

"I swear, she was begging me to fuck her. Got her so worked up that she was all Please Daddy, I'll be good, please just let me come. It was so hot." Your brain was screaming at him to shut up because you were reaching your limit with how often this guy felt the need to bring up his sex life. After 15 minutes had passed and Mina still hadn't returned both you and Soojung decided that it wouldn't be the worst thing ever if you lost your booth so you both headed towards the bar in search of Mina and your next drinks.

As you passed the booth you stole a quick glance at the 3 men who had been invading your celebrations all evening. You would be lying to yourself if you didn't admit that they were extremely attractive. One had short dark hair, his whole face was lit up as he laughed at the other two. His eyes were like little crescents as he laughed and he had an impish grin plastered on his face. He looked like sunshine and trouble all rolled into one. The next one had short blonde hair, stunning cat like eyes and a cute gummy smile. He was currently was grabbing the nape of the last guy's neck to shut him up. The last guy was undoubtedly the one who had been boasting all evening. He was handsome, and he clearly knew it. He had red hair which was slightly longer than the other two. You could tell he was cheeky as all hell just from the grin that formed on his face as he squirmed to get out of the second guy's grasp. You turned and continued towards the bar, you needed that drink and to be away from this booth now.

You found Mina just as she was about to head back towards your booth with drinks. Instead the three of you downed a few drinks at the bar and decided it was time to dance the night away. The three of you made your way down to the dance floor and started to move with the music. The DJ was playing classics mixed in with thumping tunes with dirty, sleazy bass lines. It was excellent music to dance to so it wasn't long before you lost yourself to the music. Every now and again a guy would approach you, offer to buy you a drink and ask to dance. You'd accept the drink and the dance until they got too handsy then you'd send them away. It was a sad that you were not surprised at how pissed off and rude they became the moment you tried to send them away. One guy in particular was not giving up easily. You'd already told him to go and yet he was still trying to convince you to leave with him. You struggled to believe that he actually thought he was flirting with you or that he had a chance.

"I just wanted to make sure you were old enough before I showed you my cock."

"Sorry, I can't see things that are invisible."

"Why have you gotta be such a bitch?"

"Well you clearly didn't hear me saying no so I had to make it more obvious for you. Now get lost." The man swore at you a few more times before finally leaving you alone. Before Mina or Soojung could make their way over to you he stepped into your line of sight.

"Hey, are you alright? That dude was cursing you pretty badly." The overconfident yet stupidly attractive redhead was staring at you with a slightly concerned face.

"I'm fine, he's just butthurt that after buying me a few drinks and dancing I still refused to sleep with him." He laughed at you and made no attempt to leave. "Can I help you?" you stared at him, taking in his features. He was wearing the hell out of the eyeliner he had on and the smirk on his face coupled with the seductive yet playful gaze he was giving you was, against your better judgement, turning you on. You blamed the drinks. It was easier to blame the alcohol.

"If you are ok with it, how about we dance for a bit? Just in case that guy or any one of the 5 others that you have sent away come back to harass you." Your eyes widened as you realised he'd been watching you for most of the night. He might have been attractive but his words were a bit creepy.

"I might pass on that since you just admitted to staring at me all night." He feigned being offended, his hand flying to his heart.

"I have in fact, been staring at a lot of women. In case you haven't realised you are on a dance floor," he gestured around you to make his point "and I was over there watching the entire dance floor. You caught my interest when every guy that you rejected came stomping past me while cursing you on their way to the bar." You laugh, not realising just how many guys you'd shut down tonight. You didn't care that they were pissed off because you had done nothing wrong. Each of them had come to you, asked to dance with you and to drink with you and none of that meant you had to fuck them. It was not your fault that they felt wronged, they just thought they were entitled to something when they weren't.

You looked up at the guy standing in front of you. You were old enough to know that he would pretend not to be like all the other guys but he'd eventually try to sleep with you. The difference here was that you felt some attraction to him even though you knew he was a jerk. You were pretty sure you were older than him but that could be fun. Younger guys took direction well after you knocked their egos down a few pegs. You knew he'd brag about his conquest but at this point you kind of didn't care. If he sucked as much as Soojung had implied then you might just have to call him out on it. It had been awhile and so far he was turning on the charm. Add that in with the drinks you'd had and how annoying he was earlier was starting to fade from your memory."Well if you are going to stay and dance I'm going to need your name. I don't dance with strangers." You winked at him, turning on your own charm.

You saw it in his gaze. He thought he had you. "I'm Baekhyun, now does the lovely lady have a name?" He smirked at you as he moved closer. You gave your name and just as the next song started you added "but you can call me noona." Baekhyun spun you so that your back was pressed against his chest as the thumping bass filled the club. You started to grind against him, moving rhythmically to the music. You heard a low groan from his throat before he started to match your movements with his own. His hips moved in sinful ways and you weren't sure how someone with hips that moved like his could possibly be bad in bed. Dancing like this with him was turning you on and you were sure it was having an effect on him as well. Both of you kept grinding into each other as the song built up, you could feel the heat starting to pool in your core.

Your arousal grew as the song continued but you refused to let him know he'd gotten to you so you just kept dancing. You knew you were having an effect on him, you could feel it every time you ground yourself against him. The song transitioned into another song that sounded like it belonged in a strip club. The dirty bass line bringing out bolder moves from you. The two of you were essentially dry humping on the dance floor so it was of no surprise to you when Baekhyun spoke into your ear. "Please tell me you want to get out of here with me. I want to ravage you and make you scream my name. I promise, you won't regret it." And there it was, the pick-up line you'd been waiting to hear. You were intrigued by him now. You'd been told that he was lousy in bed but the way he'd danced with you, the way his hips moved, and the way his fingers traced small circles into your flesh all pointed towards him being more than capable of pleasing you in the bedroom. At this point you just had to know.

You turned to face him and were met with the full force of his lust filled gaze. Now that was pure sex. You licked your lips and he closed the gap, his lips crashing into yours. The kiss was heated and you gave into it. Baekhyun's tongue collided with yours and your mouths moved against each other desperately. When you finally broke the kiss Baekhyun looked at you and said. "Do I take that as a yes because if that was how you say no then I think I understand why those guys were cursing you." You laughed and assured him that you did, in fact, want to leave with him.

------

"See, I told you you'd be glad you rejected all the other guys last night. They would not have rocked your world the way I did."

You were lying in his bed trying to understand how he'd managed to do that. "Sorry, what?"

"Ah, I see, I fucked you so good your brain isn't working property." He grinned proudly, thinking you're confused response was due to being all fucked out.

"No, more like it was so bad that my brain is trying to erase it from its memory." You didn't get it. In the club he'd danced so well, and had been so in tune with the movements of both of your bodies but as soon as you'd gotten to his place it was forgotten. He rushed through foreplay and somehow those perfect fingers had not gotten you off. Then he somehow managed to almost not use his hips while thrusting into you. It was up there with the worst sex you'd ever had but unlike the other guys, this one had everything he needed to be excellent... it boggled your mind.

"What?" His tone shifted to defensive. You had hurt his ego but at this point you didn't really care. You'd been so aroused when you'd left the club only to be thoroughly disappointed in everything that happened afterwards.

"Sorry, was that good for you? Because I'm still waiting for the multitude of orgasms I was promised. Do you honestly think that if you just stick your dick in a girl and thrust until you come that she'll automatically have had the best sex ever? If you do you really need a lesson or fifty in how to please a woman." You were being mean but you were frustrated and still a bit drunk.

"What the fuck?!" You weren't sure if his tone was turning to anger or if he was trying to hide being hurt by your words. After all, he thought he was a sex god.

"Honestly, how can someone with fingers like yours not know how to properly use them? How can someone with hips like yours not use them properly? Why do you rush though foreplay? I just...I don't get it."

Baekhyun's face dropped as it finally sunk in that you weren't teasing him. He looked so pitiful as he pouted. "You're seriously not kidding are you? You're telling me I'm a lousy fuck?"

"Sorry...but yeah, I am. You have the foundations for being a phenomenal lover but you lack skill. I'm honestly confused about how you aren't better than this." You sat on the bed in silence as he absorbed your words. You looked around the room to locate where all of your clothes had ended up and you tried to remember where the exit was. It was getting awkward in the room. You'd had sex then told the poor guy that it was terrible sex and he looked so defeated. You kind of just wanted to leave and forget this whole evening ever happened.

You moved to leave the bed but Baekhyun's hand grabbed your wrist, stopping you. He couldn't even make eye contact with you before he finally spoke. "Fine. Help me."

"What?!"

"Help me fuck better." You could hear how hard it was for him to get the words out. How much it hurt his ego to admit that he needed improvement. Did it have to be you though? Couldn't he just watch some decent porn and learn?

"I don't know..." You'd never thought to help the guy improve before. You weren't sure if you could help or if you could handle it if he didn't get any better. One round of bad sex was one thing, one right after the other was just depressing.

"Noona, please?" He all but whined those two words.

Those words, how could you refuse him when he'd said them like that? He'd sounded so needy and it shattered your resolve. "Fine, but on one condition."

"Anything noona. Just help me."

"You will not brag about this to anyone or I will tell everyone in great detail about how I had to teach you how to fuck a woman." Baekhyun nodded and waited for you to tell him what to do. "Do what you normally do and I will tell you what you are doing wrong so you can work out how to fix it."

It took him a few moments to gather his resolve. Baekhyun gently pushed you back down so that you were lying on the bed. He positioned himself over you before leaning down to capture your lips with his. His kiss was gentle and uncertain, his soft lips moving against yours. He moved from your lips to your neck, lightly sucking on a spot that made you shiver. He noticed this and continued to pepper your throat with kisses, occasionally moving back to suck on that spot. "Don't rush Baek, take your time."

He moved one hand to cup your breast, shifting his weight onto the other arm he was leaning on. He rolled your nipple between his fingers, lightly pinching, causing you to gasp. He shifted down so that he could take one nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue against it as he pinched the other. You moaned as he lightly bit your nipple. He shifted his head over to your other breast as his hand travelled down to your entrance. "So wet, I must be doing something right." He was sounding cocky again but this is where everything went bad last time.

His fingers moved to rub your clit but he kept missing the spot. "Baek, slower and to the left a bit." He slowed his ministrations and moved his hand over to the left. When he got the right spot to sucked in a breath. "Right there. Fuck." He dipped a finger into your entrance and you groaned. He slowly pulled his finger back out and pushed it back in. He inserted a second finger and continued until you stopped him.

"Noona?" He listened as you instructed him to curl his fingers and find your g spot. It took a little while but when he found it he wasted no time in making you a moaning mess underneath him. You ground yourself onto his hand, moaning again as his fingers stretched deeper. He all but growled above you, his fingers moving a bit faster, then scissoring slightly. His movements were hesitant but growing surer. He obviously understood what he had to do even if the effectiveness was an uncertainty. You whimpered his name when he scissored his fingers and that was all the encouragement he needed. You thanked a higher being that he was a fast learner. Once he had worked out how to use his fingers properly you had been unable to form coherent sentences. You felt your orgasm building and your hips started to buck into his fingers. You needed more. Those fingers were amazing but you craved more.

You moved to grab his arm and pull him back up to your face but he moved in the opposite direction. You gasped when you felt him nibbling and kissing your thigh as he made is way closer to your centre. Instead of giving you what you wanted he passed over to the other thigh and continued to bite and suck. "Please."

"Please what noona?" He moved his head so that it was only just out of reach. You could feel his breath hitting your aching core. Normally you'd be up for all of the teasing in the world but after already being deprived of your orgasm the first time round you were desperate for your release.

"Baek, please. I need to feel you. I need you to make me come. I don't care how but I need it. Please Baekhyun, please." Your begging was doing wonders for his confidence, slowly building it back up after you'd shattered it all but 20 minutes ago. His tongue made soft, little licks around your clit, curling down and around your opening.

When you cried out, Baekhyun looked up at you and chuckled. “You like that?” As he spoke, his fingers pumped slowly in and out of your dripping centre, making sure the tip of his middle finger dragged along your g-spot.

You whined and nodded your head while riding Baekhyun's fingers. His tongue swirled around your clit as he rubbed his fingers against your g spot. You were so close and when he picked up the pace with his fingers you started to come undone. This was one area where he needed no guidance. Why the hell didn't he do this the first time round?! You could probably forgive bad sex if you got eaten out this well. His fingers moved with more force and his tongue flicked your clit at a unrelenting pace. "I'm gonna come, fuck. You are so fucking good at this." Your orgasm ripped through you, your body tingling all over and your vision going blurry. Baekhyun slowed his movements as he helped you ride out your orgasm.

You pulled him back up to you and kissed him hard, surprising him. You could taste yourself on his tongue as your kiss deepened. You ground your hips into him, hoping he'd get the message. He moved himself between your legs and you could feel his cock pressing at your entrance. "Fuck noona, I need to fuck you." You bucked your hips in response and he thrusted into you in one fluid motion. He felt so good inside you, stretching you in all the right ways. He snapped his hips back and forth and you remembered that you needed to fix this. A guy who could dance like him should be better than this. You tightened your legs around his waist, preventing him from pulling out as far as he had been. He whined but you cut him off when you rolled your hips into him.

"Baekhyun, use your hips like you do when you dance. Trust me, it feels so much better when you use your hips more." He slowed his movements down and started to incorporate a roll of his hips into his thrusts. "Fuck, yes. Like that, just like that." Ever the quick learner he started to use more force as he ground his hips against you before thrusting deeply into you. You cried out and screamed for more. This was what was missing before. This is the sex you had wanted after dancing with him in the club and you were finally having your world rocked.

"Fuck, you feel so good. I'm not gonna last much longer. You are taking my cock so well." His pace quickened and his thrusts hit relentlessly hit your g spot. Every time he ground hip hips into you it stimulated your clit and you were moaning his name so loudly you were sure his neighbours hated you.

"Harder Baek, fuck. So close. Please." You could only get out a few words at a time as every thrust stole your breath away. He shifted so he could slam his hips into you, your eyes rolled in the back of your head as you succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure you were receiving. Your second orgasm tore through you quickly followed by a loud moan from Baekhyun as his own release hit him. The two of you collapsed into the bed, sweat causing his hair to stick to his forehead. You were both trying to catch your breaths before speaking. Baekhyun found his words first.

"Better?" He smirked at you.

"Well..." You couldn't help but tease him, especially when he was so sure of himself again. The look on his face was priceless. "Baek, I'm kidding. That was fucking amazing. I told you that you had everything you needed, you just needed a little direction. I don't think I can walk so I'm not leaving this bed anytime soon. Baekhyun let out a breath you didn't realise he'd been holding and visibly relaxed next to you.

"Good, I don't want to move." He rolled on his side and pulled your body against him. As your breathing returned to normal the two of you drifted off to sleep.

#exowritersnet #exo fic #exo scenario #exo imagine #exo smut #baekhyun fic #baekhyun smut #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun imagine

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spookyboywhump · 5 years ago

Text

Trope: Grabbed By The Hair

Character: Alessander

Fandom: Original Work

That’s right! Not only am I still doing my BTHB card but I’m also still writing for Alessander! This was requested to my old blog but I hope the anon sees it here. I’m open to requests for any of the unmarked spots, if you’d like to see one with a specific character than just send an ask!

I call this one “Poor Less Gets His Hair Pulled More Than Necessary” featuring a somewhat more broken Alessander

TW for a noncon mention kinda in here

***

Alessander sat on his knees at the prince’s side, head resting against his thigh. The prince was playing with his hair, gently right now but occasionally he would suddenly pull, startling him back to attention. To a certain extent though, he understood his owner’s stressed behavior.

He’d been warned this meeting was important, and Devlyn had been anxious through the whole day. It was odd to see the prince anything other than calm and collected, and something about it made him anxious as well. Devlyn instructed him to be on his best behavior for the meeting, sit still and look pretty, and he intended to do just that. He didn’t want to know what the prince would do if he made a mistake, so he would follow his directions exactly. Sit still, look pretty, and pretend that the prince’s brothers weren’t watching him.

He’d never met Devlyn’s father or brothers personally but he knew who they were. Crown prince Atherton, the oldest, and probably the scariest to him, and the middle prince Nikolai, who was paying more attention to Alessander than the conversation between Devlyn and his father. King Satura was an older man, but there was a dark look in his eyes, something worse than what he’d seen from Devlyn. He really, really did not want to make a mistake.

If not for his ever present anxiety, the meeting would have actually been somewhat boring. He listened to the men drone on about official matters, though he was pleased to hear that his subjects seemed to be doing well under Devlyn’s rule. That was all he hoped to get out of doing this after all. His father talked of matters from his kingdom, and Alessander noticed the several backhanded compliments and subtle jabs at Devlyn, from all three of the men. The prince seemed to be handling it well enough, but Alessander had a feeling he knew when something got to him by the sudden grip on his hair, which would let go just as quickly, hand gently smoothing his hair out, almost assuring him he hadn’t done anything wrong. It still shocked him whenever the prince was kind but he found himself appreciating it more these days.

“Devlyn, can I speak to you alone?” The king asked at one point, rising from his chair, causing Devlyn to freeze up completely. He had a feeling the prince didn’t really have a choice in the matter.

“Of course, father…” He stood up and Alessander sat up straight, watching him. “Stay here Less, be good.” He told him.

“Yes, my prince.” He said softly, watching as the two left the room, closing the door behind them. He was left alone with his brothers, and he decided his best bet was keeping his eyes on the floor. He didn’t want to give any reason for the other princes to acknowledge him, but he should’ve known it wouldn’t have been that easy, keeping his eyes trained on the floor even as he heard the scrape of a chair being pushed back against the floor and footsteps approaching him.

“Look at me, dog.” He winced as his face was grabbed, forcing him to look up and face Nikolai. He looked a lot like Devlyn, just slightly older, with longer hair too. He looked him over, studying his face, while Alessander tried to avoid eye contact, looking anywhere but at him. “So you’re the prince that Devlyn stole this kingdom from… I understand it a lot more now that I’m seeing you.”

“He said the little prince didn’t even put up a fight, hm?” Atherton said, getting up to come see him as well. “He doesn’t look like he could’ve fought if he wanted to. No wonder it was so easy for him.” He said, looking down on him. Atherton was taller than either of the two other princes, a bit broader as well. His dark hair was cut short, his eyes mirrored his father’s, dark, unnerving even. Alessander tried not to show his frustration, he didn’t surrender out of fear, he did it for his people, he knew it was the right thing. He didn’t want them to see him as a coward for doing what was right.

“I wonder why Devlyn didn’t just kill him, what’s the use in keeping him around?” He forcefully turned his head side to side, looking him over.

“Really? Look at him, he’s got him dressed up as exactly what he is, a whore.” Atherton snickered, the comment making Alessander go red with anger and embarrassment. He wished Devlyn would come back soon, but judging by the sound of arguing between him and his father outside the door he felt he wouldn’t get so lucky.

“Can’t say I blame him, he is a pretty little thing. I’m surprised he looks as well rested as he does, you’d think Devlyn would take him every night.” Nikolai laughed, and for once, Alessander snapped. He didn’t know why, but he felt the need to defend his prince. Devlyn was a lot of terrible things, and he’d done a lot of terrible things to Alessander in particular, but he knew for certain that he wouldn’t violate him that way.

“My prince would never-” He started, only to be cut off by a harsh slap across the face.

“He must not be very well trained, speaking out of turn like that.” Nikolai said. “Devlyn must be going easy on him.” Alessander would beg to differ, but he didn’t dare speak up, holding one hand over his mouth, covering his now split lip.

“I’d like to see how he disciplines the boy. He might need some help if it’s clearly not working.” Atherton said, grabbing Alessander by the hair and dragging him to his feet. “At least he has all this hair, it must be easy to pull him around.” He laughed, Alessander whimpering from the pain.

“Do you think he always makes those noises? Let me see him.” Nikolai said, and Atherton shoved him towards him, thankfully releasing his hair. Nikolai caught him by his shackled wrists, holding him in place and letting out a whistle. “He’s even prettier up close. Think Devlyn would let me borrow him?”

“N-no!” He gasped, knowing full well it would only put him in more trouble. “No, p-please, I… He…” He couldn’t come up with the words to defend himself, he knew that if Devlyn agreed to it, he’d have no choice.

“He might need to, he needs to learn to keep quiet.” Atherton said. ��If I had a whip on me I’d teach him the lesson right now.” The prince pulled his long hair to the side, exposing his bare back covered in scars from previous whippings. He shivered as a hand trailed down his back, the unwanted contact driving him closer to Nikolai. “Judging by these scars, he hasn’t been whipped nearly enough.” He said, almost sounding disappointed in the supposed lack of discipline. Alessander wondered how mangled and torn his skin would have to be before it satisfied him.

“A shame really, you’d think that Devlyn would know better by now.” Nikolai said, keeping a tight grip on one of his wrists, his other hand brushing his hair from his face. “Well, a shame for the little mutt here. I know I’m going to enjoy seeing the punishment he gets.” He grinned. The hand brushing his hair away suddenly got rougher, yanking his hair back from his face and getting a sharp whine from Alessander.

He just wanted them to leave him alone, to stop touching him, preferably before Devlyn returned, but he was still being held in place and harassed when the door opened once again. His stomach dropped, Devlyn would know he misbehaved, he’d be punished in front of these two and they would just love that.

“Glad you two are done arguing.” Atherton said, though he sounded as bored as ever. “Devlyn, punish your little dog, would you? He likes to talk too much for his own good.” Once again a handful of his hair was grabbed, he was pulled from Nikolai’s grip and dragged towards his prince, crying out as he was roughly thrown to the floor in front of him. He kept his head down, blinking back the tears welling up, already trembling in fear of what Devlyn would do to him. He thought he could expect a whipping, maybe a short beating, maybe being forbidden from eating, but he didn’t expect at all what Devlyn actually did.

“How dare you!” He snapped, and Alessander fearfully looked up, only to realize that it was directed at his brothers rather than him. “You have no right to put your hands on him!”

“I wouldn’t have had to put my hands on him if he was well behaved. You need to train him better, Devlyn, or I’m going to do much worse than slap him.” Nikolai said, sounding rather unaffected by Devlyn’s reaction.

“You won’t so much as touch him ever again!” He said seriously, helping Alessander to his feet.

“Are you really protecting him?” Atherton asked, eyebrows raised. “Do you really love this mutt that much?”

“He belongs to me. He surrendered to me, he gave his submission to me, if anybody is going to harm him then it is going to be me!” Rather than hold him by the leash, he kept an arm around his shoulders, almost protectively. “I own him and I will decide when and why he is punished. If I find out you ever put your hands on him again, I will be sure you pay for it, understand?” He snapped, and though his brothers and his father seemed almost amused by his display of emotion, Alessander had a feeling that he meant every single word.

***

Much later that evening, long after the prince’s family had retired to their own rooms for the time being- apparently they intended to stay the week- Alessander sat with Devlyn in their room, letting him brush through his tangled hair. He winced every now and then when the brush would get too close to his now sensitive scalp, irritated from all the hair pulling even after all this time. Whenever he whined in pain Devlyn would gently shush him, the only verbal exchange between them until Alessander finally spoke up.

“I… I would like to thank you, my prince…” He said softly. “They… wanted you to punish me in front of them and I… they scared me…” For once his gratitude was genuine, rather than a conditioned response. He truly believed Devlyn would punish him for his mistake but he didn’t seem to even care, fussing over Alessander now that they were alone.

“I know love, I’m sorry…” The prince sighed. “I shouldn’t have left you alone with them, but I couldn’t exactly say no to my father…”

“Of course… I appreciate it anyway though, you… you didn’t have to do that for me…” It was odd to even consider the prince being so protective of him.

“I did though.” The prince set the brush aside, coming to stand next to the chair Alessander sat in and gently grabbing his chin, turning his head to face him, so much kinder than how his brother had handled him. “You are mine, Less. You are my pet, and I will discipline you when you are bad, I will reward you when you are good, and I will protect you from anyone who wishes to hurt you, understand?”

“I understand…” He glanced away from him, despite how he leaned into the kind touch, almost embarrassed that he seemed to enjoy it. Much to his surprise, the prince released his chin, helping him to his feet and pulling him into a hug, strong arms holding him close, one hand gently carding through his hair.

“Your body belongs to me, I am the only one allowed to punish you. I won’t let anyone else even try, little prince.” He said softly, and despite his words Alessander closed his eyes, relaxing against him.

“Thank you, my prince.”

#whump #bthb #bad things happen bingo #grabbed by the hair #my writing #my oc's #Alessander #devlyn #pet whump #creepy whumper #well #whumpers #protective whumper #hair pulling

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