#just for pain relief purposes of course

[gardenofnoah]

“you’re going to hurt yourself like that, my love.”

you startle at the voice over you, having been nearly asleep.

“—uh?”

you turn your head to see Nanami looming over your side of the bed. if you were fully conscious, you would see the tiny look of mischief in his eyes as they roam your body, but you’re not, so you take it as his tendency to mother hen you.

and then he’s pushing you to the middle of the bed despite your whining, climbing in beside you. you try to settle in and find you’re still being moved—he’s on his back, shuffling himself down the bed and pulling one of your legs over his chest. you feel him turn his face into your belly in a move that feels suspiciously like nuzzling.

“what’re y’doin,” you slur, a little petulant at being woken up like this, despite it being well past the time you meant to rejoin the living and despite your own desire to seek out the warmth he’s emitting next to you.

“you’re going to hurt your hip, laying like that,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. he runs a hand up the back of your thigh and over your hip, and you sigh a little bit, comforted by the feeling of him.

“i don’t know how you sleep like that,” he continues, absentmindedly dragging his fingers over your skin, making you shiver every now and then.

“feels good,” you grumble, face shoved into the pillow. talking about your bizarre sleeping position and maybe also the way the rough pads of his fingers leave a trail of warmth in their wake. you think you hear him chuckle softly, and you feel him press a kiss to the skin of your belly, right above the hem of your sleep shorts.

it’s soft, chaste—and then it’s not, and you suck in a breath when you feel him kiss you there again, feeling the tip of his tongue drag along the skin that stretches over your hip bone.

and evidently he hears your sharp inhale, because you feel a strong arm sneak around your lower back, pulling you closer to him.

“was still sleeping, you know,” but it’s lost all of its bite and you’re a little breathless now, fixated on the way his free hand slides up the back of your thigh to brush over the sensitive spot just under the curve of your ass.

“go to sleep then,” he says into the soft of your belly, pressing another kiss, opening his mouth a little wider to catch the skin of it between his teeth. he’s turned into you now, and despite yourself, you drag your leg up from his chest so it’s over his shoulder.

he moves to rest his head against your thigh that’s trapped underneath him, and distantly you think that it is more comfortable like this— his head squeezed between your legs having alleviated some of the pressure against your hip from laying on your side. that thought quickly becomes muddled in your head when you feel him latch on to the skin of your inner thigh that rests against his face.

you whine, hips bucking weakly as you squirm under tongue and teeth—both leaning into and trying to get away from the sting of his bite.

“my sweet love,” he coos, running his tongue over the fresh bruise, placating you. you shiver, pressing your face further into the pillow to try to breathe—to ground yourself despite the heat that curls up your spine. he stops, then, and you peak down at him to find that he’s staring back up at you.

“hi,” you whisper, fighting another shudder at the way his lips pull at the corners into a smirk that looks absolutely sinful on him.

“good morning,” he drawls, deep and far too awake. he rests his chin in the space between your hips, pressing a quick kiss above your pubic bone. your hips buck toward him a tiny bit, and his smirk widens when he feels it.

you bring a hand down to run it through his hair, tangling in the blond strands and scratching at his scalp. he closes his eyes and hums, deep in his chest, nuzzling into your thigh. it makes you smile, and it makes you ache.

“want you, ken,” you murmur, squeezing him gently between your thighs and reveling in the groan he lets out.

“i know, sweetheart,” he coos, hands coming up again to grope whatever skin he can reach and pressing a tiny kiss through your shorts, “i can smell you.”

[squorttle-pox]

so glad you included those "y̴̨͚̙͎͓̞͍̯͒̚͜ọ̵̢͈̲͓̤̝̠̄̔ǘ̴̦͇̲̜̩̮̫͈̯͓͖͍̋̿̋̾͂̅̾̋͆̒͐́̚͝͝'̷̨̝͚̞̤̲̟̜̳̩̭͓̺͛r̸̠̯̲̊̽̅͋ȩ̷̘̟̦̟̠͖̬̰̗̈̽̇́̓͜ ̴̨̛͇̥͔̼̗̹͇̺͈̥̩͙̥̦͓͖͇͇͒̀̓̄͋̈́̎͆̀̔̈́̆̕s̶͗̿̐̄͌͛͛̈͋͛̿͘l̸̨̠̻̲͓̭͈̰͈͎͈͔͇̳͗̔͜ó̸̼̣̠̒̇p̸̙̰͇̯͕̒̂̽̓̆̎͗͒̓̅̄̄̚p̴̧̘̲̪͔̻͒ͅy̸̡̛̦̺̹͔͎͓̺̰̫̓͐̈́̓͋͋͘̚͠ͅͅͅ" frames. when that part happened i thought i went into a coma and it was the Radiant Light beckoning me to cross the Threshhold. if a picture is worth a thousand words, that moment is worth a thousand sacrifices. even through the screen i could feel the true meaning of Smooth. i am asexual but is this what lust feels like

and his eyes. oh, his e y e s. they ought to be classified as their own entity. those pupils alone, with all their different shapes and sizes, are enough to melt all my bones into goopy sludge

He is so gorgeous, such a looker. Every frame he looks so good, he can look so fucking demonic, he still looks so good, every frame of him can literally be a wallpaper, people talk shit about his hair, and I will admit the back is atrocious, like come on grow it out, or some. But I still low-key fuck with it, low-key low-key! The front I mean, it looks so bouncy, soft, and thick, and I just LOVE MEN with long-ish hair, it's the death of me. Please Viv don't kill him off, PLEASE!!! He is the best. Can't wait to see more of this dapper fellow in season 2, it's gonna be GREAT! I bet he has his mother's eyes, they're so pretty. That'd be so cute, I want him to see his mom, even if for one time, and one time only...I'd actually start crying.

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 195 }

crimson comfort.

sylus x (non mc)fem.reader

warnings: blood mention; self indulgent bc i’m on my period right now and am in pain 😭

your breathing comes out as labored, uneven breaths, with you curling up in a fetal position as waves upon waves of pain was felt coursing through your very veins.

sylus was out on a business trip for who knows how long, and you were left suffering through the throes of your own womanhood, feeling the blood staining at the sheets below you, rendering you unable to even move. sweat was felt staining at your skin, and you bury yourself beneath your burgundy comforter while trying to even out your breathing.

you desperately wanted sylus by your side, to help with easing your pain as he held you oh so tightly within his embrace-

but you knew that such a wish may be impossible to come true. he was away at the moment, and you didn’t wish to trouble anyone. as you began to feel even lonelier at the thought, you tried to distract yourself and decided instead to look out the window-

only to let out a gasp when you saw two crows settled on the windowsill.

as your eyes gaze at the birds with an almost forlorn expression, you were dimly aware of a series caws coming from each of them. you frown at such a strange sound, as if they were communicating with something-

or rather, with someone.

your eyes go wide at the sudden realization.

as if sensing your agony, you felt a strange shift in the air as dark feathers surrounded your periphery, revealing your lover stepping out of what looked like a crimson vortex. he hums, anger painting his handsome features as he looks down at your weak form on the bed.

“my men should have taken care of your every need.” sylus lets out a low hiss, allowing his crows to disperse as he takes you out of bed and into his arms. you tremble, letting out a sigh of relief when he places the palm of his hand against your abdomen, rubbing comforting circles as you felt the pain ease just the tiniest bit.

“i thought you… had a meeting and would be gone for a while…?”

sylus grunts upon hearing your words, delving his fingers into your hair as he pulls back slightly to look at you. “and watch you suffer in silence? those bastards can wait. you are my sole priority.”

you couldn’t help but smile, feeling sylus fully embrace you as he gently crushes your body to his chest, all while grumbling at how ‘incompetent his men are’ and how he should ‘teach them a lesson that they’ll never forget.’

and truthfully, hearing his grumpy words would have placed a smile on your face had you not been in so much pain. a whimper was heard escaping from your parted lips, making sylus act fast as he lays you back down against the plush mattress. he brushes back your hair and remains hovering above you, frowning while witnessing every moment of your pain.

he lets out a gentle coo of your name, pressing a kiss against your forehead before laying down next to you. he takes you in his arms as words of protests come from you. “wait… i’m still bleeding pretty badly. i might mess up your suit.”

“fuck this suit. i’ve got a million others to replace it. keep still and let me help ease your pain, whining about it won’t change anything.”

your back was pressed against his broad chest, and you could feel the way sylus’s hand was pressed against your abdomen. his large palm felt massaging against your stomach eases the cramps, allowing you to relax while in his embrace as you let out soft moans in response.

the more he kept gently massaging you, (revealing an uncharacteristic gentleness he saves solely for you), the more you felt your pain being eased by his almost reverent touch. you hum and purposely move away from him, earning a grunt of protest from the powerful man as you managed to let out a soft giggle in response.

“relax, i just wish to see you.”

remaining true to your word, you turn around so that you were now fully facing sylus, catching sight of his scowling features as he immediately wraps a hand behind your back, bringing you achingly closer to him. not allowing you to move away from him again, sylus makes a point in not just keeping his arms around you, but his legs as well. the man purposefully traps you against his chest, your bodies becoming a tangle of limbs in the process.

you meet his gaze, finding comfort within the rufescent quality of his eyes. your lover continues to meet your gaze, expression appearing neutral-

yet you knew him well enough to notice the tiny curve at the corner of his lips, indicating that he was genuinely smiling at you. you could feel your own smile brighten when you tell him (in a bit of a cheeky manner), “i should moan and whine more often if it means you’ll come home sooner.”

sylus scoffs upon hearing your words. “don’t you dare be a brat about this; you and i both know that this is a one time deal.”

you had to bite back a giggle, knowing that this man was lying to you-

for this was never a one time deal. in fact, in the past when your period pains got so bad that it teetered on the edge of agonizing, sylus would always always always stop whatever he was doing and return back to your shared bedroom (like he was doing at this exact moment) to comfort you.

as if knowing your thoughts, sylus lets out one last huff of your name, appearing even grumpier when he places a hand behind your head and hides your face within his chest (so that you couldn’t see the light blush that dyes his cheek). “sleep, i’m not going anywhere anytime soon; i’ll stay by your side.”

with one last giggle, you lean closer to press a kiss against his chest, basking in the spicy scent of his cologne as you steadily slumped against him, falling into a peaceful slumber while knowing how sylus would forever protect you.

a.n. - lmaooo i guess i’m writing more sylus stories now (/ω＼)

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[ddejavvu]

I love your best friend with no boundaries James, and I was wondering if you could do one where James and reader are having their regularly scheduled mid-day naps, and Sirius and Remus walk into the dorm to find James just humping reader while they’re asleep? Maybe James and reader wake up to the GASP of horror from Sirius after his not so innocent eyes witness “straight up porn in their shared dorm where Peter of all people could witness”

I love all your works and was wondering if I could be marked as 😻anon? I’m the person who requested the bsf Steve imagine and I’m 100% gonna request something again because you’re perfect and I just wanna kiss you on the mouth🫶🏻🫶🏻

this post is 18+, minors dni.

Sirius considers himself James's best friend- no, brother, but he's not afraid to whack the man upside the head when he finds James grinding on you in his sleep.

"You-! Nasty-! Fucker-!" He bullies James awake, appreciating the much calmer, kinder way that Remus rouses you, tugging you away from James on the bed and murmuring that your nap is over. You blink your eyes open serenely, and James's shoot wide in pain as Sirius assaults him.

"What the fuck? Agh- Sirius! I know you're mad that I've got the better potions grade, but killing me won't help!"

"This isn't about potions, Potter," Sirius scoffs, "But I am thinking about tossing you in a hot cauldron. You were- eeugh, you were humping her, you animal!"

Your brows are furrowed and your blinks are bleary, but your brain catches up with the help of Remus's hands where they trace soothing circles on your back.

"Oh," You mumble groggily, as James groans with quickly reddening cheeks, "Uh- s'alright, Jamie."

Remus's hand stills on your back, but James and Sirius join in a fused indignant-confused "What?"

"S'just natural I guess," You shrug, "I dunno, I haven't- er, got one. But it was an accident, Jamie, you were asleep. It's alright."

James’s cheeks are still plenty rouged, but he nods sleepily at your forgiveness, relieved that he's not being hit by two people instead of only one.

"Yeah, thanks bird," He flops back down onto the mattress, letting out a sigh heavily infused with relief, "Wouldn't do it on purpose, y'know. Not while you're sleeping, that's- that's pervy."

"Some people like pervy," You hum, settling back into your own position in James's bed, though he's no longer curled around you. Sirius watches as you knock your hand against his own, "Sirius thinks I'm a perv."

"You're both pervs," Sirius grimaces, his lip curled in distaste as Remus stands from James's bedside, "Seriously, he eats off of your spoons, you've seen his dick, he's been grinding all over your ass - if you don't get a marriage license soon you're going to be very unpopular with the traditional crowd."

James turns towards you with a gasp, his eyes shining just the same as his grin does, "We could get married!"

"We should," You laugh, "And we could get a flat, and we could have your mother over for dinner every Tuesday."

"That would work." He nods, fully settled back into the pillows from Sirius's disturbance, "She loves you. And she's free Tuesday nights - her knitting circle ends at three."

"I know that," You scoff, barely biting back an overexaggerated eye roll, "James, I write your mother once a week. I know when her knitting circle is."

"You write my mum?" He rears back, momentarily confused, "She's never told me that!"

"Of course she hasn't," You snicker, "Because if you'd known, you would have stopped me from telling her how many times you get detention every week, and you'd want to share the sweets she sends me in exchange for the intel."

[lurochar]

To Give Comfort

After his mother dies, Alastor turns to you for comfort.

Part 2

18+ MDNI

–------------------------------------------------

Alastor pants into your ear, feeling you shudder beneath him as your arms tighten around him. His mind is in a haze of both pleasure and intoxication – the sex and whisky serve their purpose as a relief from the drowning grief he had found himself spiralling into.

He knew it was coming, his mother has not been well for a while now and he thought he had been prepared for her inevitable death, but no – he had never expected it to feel like this.

But he had a reputation and image to uphold, he was a man and he couldn’t be seen as weak.

He did not cry once and his usual smile seemed to fool everyone, his co-workers at the radio station, passersby from his daily life, acquaintances from his favoured speakeasy. Even Mimzy.

It fooled everyone but you.

Alastor really should have known.

“I know you’re hurting.” You finally manage to corner him at his home after a week of him avoiding you every time you try to reach out. “Alastor, please. You don’t need to pretend with me. Is there anything I can do?”

Alastor stays silent for a moment, staring at your distressed face and feels his drunken thoughts wander in many different directions. He is a little tipsy at this time, most of his rationality is still there, but there’s a part of him that’s still in pain – he’s unfamiliar with it, he hates it, he wants it gone.

Can you relieve him of his misery?

“Anything?” Alastor, though not completely sober, still moves with the skill of a hunter and he has you pinned against the wall before you even realize what happened. “If this were to happen, we can’t go back. I won’t let you go back. Is that what you want?”

You seemed a bit shocked, but slowly wrap your arms over his broad shoulders and press yourself against him. “I hate seeing you like this.” You feel Alastor practically slump against you. “Wherever this takes us, we can see when we get there.” You can feel his eyes staring so intently at you that it almost makes you shiver.

Would you regret your actions?

—---------------------

“Fuck!”

Alastor smirks, rubbing your flushed cheek affectionately. “How unlady-like.” He teases, gripping your hips so you couldn’t squirm away when he quickened his thrusts, making sure his cock hit that special little spot of yours deeper and harder each time, causing you to let out a high-pitched cry. 

“A-ah, feels good.” You tossed your head to one side, jumping and feeling your body spasm when you feel Alastor’s fingers slowly rub at your slick clit. The jolt of sudden pleasure has you clenching around his cock and he grits his teeth, barely holding back a groan.

Alastor slowly lowers himself to lie completely on top of you, careful not to hurt you under his weight. His eyes half-lid when he feels your hands card through his brown hair and shudders a sigh, slowing his thrusts until his hips are barely even moving anymore.

He wants to bask in this– your warmth for much, much longer. It’s burning away the ache and the pain, it’s lighting the dark depressing grief, and if he leaves now, what would happen?

Alastor knows, of course.

He would go hunting, less careful, sloppy, uncaring if his targeted victim truly deserved their gruesome fate at his hands. More than likely, he would be caught as the Bayou Butcher if he leaves your embrace now.

“Is everything…all right?” You ask after a moment, your breath still caught in your throat when Alastor keeps stroking your clit. “If you need to stop, that’s okay.”

“No, Darling,” Alastor rests his head on your chest, closing his eyes as he listens to your beating heart and he realizes he would like to listen to it for the rest of your lives, “just let me stay here for a minute.” He tilts his head and gives you an almost sultry smirk. “But then, I want to hear you beg for my cock.”

Did you regret your actions? 

You did not.

[hesperisms]

// Beyond Sanctuary

"I would like it if, what helps you get better isn't medicine, but rather, me…"

// summary: Zayne expands on the research he did into how to relieve your menstrual cramping he mentions during the Affinity 70 Secret Time, Sanctuary.

// content warnings: 18+ (mdni), menstruation, soft-dom, established history, pet names, stimulation, aftercare

// a/n: I was in pain and out of advil when I wrote this, but who needs advil when you have Linkon's best? x-posted to AO3 - likes, reblogs, comments are always appreciated!

"I would like it if, what helps you get better isn't medicine, but rather, me..." Zayne whispered quietly, his breath fluttering warmly across the curve of your ear while his fingers brush firm but gentle circles on your lower abdomen. While the words were sweet, there was a tone of intention behind his words that you picked up on immediately.

You reach down and slide your hand over the back of his while his fingers loop across your soft skin and tilt your head back towards him slightly, your curiosity piqued. "What else did your research teach you, Dr Zayne?" you say teasingly, catching the edge of a smirk he tries to hide from you out of the corner of your eye.

Zayne pecks a little kiss on the curve of your neck before he answers, trying to make sure his voice remains steady and measured; that it won't betray him into appearing too needy. Lying pressed up against your back stroking your delicate flesh and smelling your hair was making things hard for him. "Well," he began, a slight edge of huskiness to his voice, "while ibuprofen and other NSAIDS may help with pain relief, their usage is limited by dosage caps. I've read studies that a combination of dopamine and oxytocin topically applied can be just as effective...would you like to try it my love?"

As he finishes his sentence, his fingertips dip out from under yours and start trailing lower, finding the waistband of your sweats and teasing their way inside to brush against the fabric of your panties as he starts pecking kisses along the curve of your neck up towards your ear, nibbling gently on the edge of it while he waits for you to answer him. He already knows what your answer will be, of course, but he wants to hear you voice your consent. Your comfort is a priority for him, after all.

You bite your bottom lip as you comprehend his meaning; he wants to give you orgasms. He's waiting for you to tell him you want him to.

"Aren't you concerned about the mess?" you begin to ask hesitantly, but Zayne cuts you off with a gentle reprimand. "Silly girl," he chides in a sinful whisper against the shell of your ear, using his other hand to tug at the well-loved blanket beneath you. "I brought this old blanket in along with the tea I served you earlier with this very purpose in mind. Not to mention, being a surgeon, you know I'm very familiar with getting blood out of fabrics. The only thing I need you to concern yourself with is enjoying my efforts."

Your objections thoroughly and confidently handled, you feel a flush of heat rise in your stomach and you nod your head in agreement but this isn't enough for Zayne. "Use your words, Darling...would you like to try it?" he hums in a quiet growl, his warm breath and tone sending a flash of heat down your spine.

"Yes." "Yes what?" He challenges instantly, mouth paused mid-suck on your flushing earlobe.

"Yes please, Zayne." You whine, far needier than you intended to and your pulse quickens as he lets out a gentle little laugh, the slivery sound of it and the little puffs of air teasing your neck, making you shiver.

"That's much better my love," he coos soothingly as he takes a deep breath of the scent of your hair, bending his arm you've been using as a pillow to wrap around your chest and grip your shoulder, firmly locking you into his embrace as his little spoon. "Now let's do something about this pain of yours, hmm?"

He moves his other hand to ease down your panties, rolling the sides down your thighs to give him some space to move without brushing against your still-fresh pad and once they've been sufficiently rolled down, he reaches over you to the nightstand. As his larger weight presses you slightly into the sheets he pulls the drawer open and rummages, finding the small bottle of lube he insisted you keep nearby. You notice him juggle the bottle for a second, unsure how he's going to be able to open it and apply it with the one same hand and you giggle at his dilemma. You reach out, taking the bottle from him and uncapping it. "Thank you y/n." he praises appreciatively in your ear with a pecked kiss on your neck as he holds out his fingers to you and you drip some onto him.

As his slicked fingertips slide down between your thighs your breath catches in your throat and your heart starts to hammer in your chest. Ever attentive to your body's signals, Zayne licks and kisses at your neck, paying close attention to your pulse thrumming in the delicate arteries of your throat. Though he'll never admit it to you, it's a game for him to manipulate your pulse this way, his years of medical training making it second nature for him to read your reactions via the heart he studied so intensely. A soft sigh leaves your lips as Zayne's lithe fingertips start to explore, circling your aching bud and sliding between your folds, while he watches you intensely with those golden-green eyes sparkling with desire. "Close your eyes and relax," he instructs, praising you as you do so with a throaty whisper. "Trust me to make you feel good." You melt back into his warm chest, his right arm still wrapped tightly around you while his other hand roams.

Feeling you settle in and squirm gently in his arms, he slips his long middle finger into your rapidly soaking folds, curling them to stroke your spot as his thumb finds your swelling clit, eliciting little moans of pleasure from you, the painful ache of your cramps gradually being replaced with an ache of longing and desire the more his fingers lavish their attentions on you.

"Can you take more?" he growls against your neck in a raspy whisper, dry humping his growing erection up against your backside. You let out a low moan and grind against his hand in response and he stops his movements, waiting for a real answer. "That's twice I've had to tell you to use your words, my love, don't make me have to repeat myself please." "Please keep going Zayne." You whimper, grasping onto his hand holding onto your shoulder. "Please don't stop, I want you." He lets out a little moan of his own against the back of your neck and resumes grinding his length against you, closing his eyes and acting on sheer instinct. As he presses himself into you, he slips a second finger into your aching walls, it joining his middle finger in seeking out your pleasure. He scissors his long fingers inside you, stretching your walls wider as he crooks them just right to hit that sweet spongy spot again and again. His thumb works your clit in tight circles, sending jolts of electricity shooting up your spine and your grip on his hands tightens.

Your vision starts to blur and sparkles dance in your eyelids as you throw your head back against his shoulder, moaning his name loudly as you come undone on his fingers, rhythmic clenches keeping his fingers trapped deeply inside you. As you come down and the orgasm subsides, he slowly withdraws his hand, sliding your panties back up your hips ensuring they're snug and securely back in place, pecking kisses on your neck. "That's my good girl" he purrs, peppering you with kisses. "You go ahead and rest, I'll be back in a minute after I clean up." Zayne gently slides his arm out from underneath you and you roll over to watch him, blushing as you see his left hand covered in blood. He notices your gaze has caught his hand and he leans over to plant a warm gentle kiss on your lips, before he presses his forehead against yours. "Don't be embarrassed, this is nothing I'm not used to y/n, I see blood all the time." he smiles against your lips and you can't help but smile back, your blush receding.

After a couple of minutes in the bathroom washing up he returns to the bedroom with a wry smile at you and slides into bed beside you, snuggling you up against his broad chest in a big bear hug, his chin resting on your hair while he gently rubs your back in slow, easy circles. You drift off to sleep, your cheek pressed against his chest, the scent of his aftershave filling your senses and the cramps long gone.

[readerstories]

When You Touch Me - Wolverine x male reader x Deadpool 6/?

Some light word-building, and a try at explaining a little with reader's thinking/worldview. And of course, a soulmate :3 Next chapter in about a week(+/- a day)! (AO3) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 7) (Part 8)

Warnings/tags: male reader, canon-typical violence, enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn

Wordcount: 2506

Summary: You’ve heard many stories about how people met their soulmates. Everyone crazier than the last, ranging from typical meet cutes, meeting with one of them at death's door, in war, meeting at your soulmate's wedding to another, and everything in between and outside of that. You had just never expected to add yours to the crazy list, meeting yours in a fight, only realizing after trying to kill each other for at least half an hour. And you certainly don’t expect to have another.

It’s been a week since you saw either of them. 

Your soulmates. 

You don’t like them being that, you could call them something else you suppose. But calling them their names all the time is more of a mouthful, and though you gave them nicknames before you learned their names, giving them new ones seems worse than just calling them what they are. (Even as much as you hate it.)

The ache in your shoulders and upper back has settled to a near permanent thing now, only fleeting relief for the for the briefest of moments if you massage the area. 

You know why it doesn’t fade, but you don’t want to admit that to anyone, especially not Evelyn when you visit her for a check up, this time at home in her and Olivia’s apartment.

You wonder how many other people have to bring brownies to their doctor appointments as you ring Evelyn’s and Olivia’s doorbell outside the building. To be fair, not everyone else’s doctor works as a veterinarian and has a wife that would kill you if you didn’t bring them (not really, but sometimes you think Olivia is certainly capable of doing so). 

Said wife is the one who buzzes you in, and greets you in the hallway just outside their front door with an enthusiastic yell of your name, and a hug that makes you let out a small grunt of pain that you try to hide in favor of hugging her back with the arm not currently holding onto the strap of your backpack.

“Oh, I’m sorry, you’re a wounded man, come in, come in, Evelyn is just setting up.” Her beautiful dark and curled hair bounces as she heads to the kitchen, and you follow her after making sure the front door is closed behind you.

The kitchen table is covered in towels, towels you know are specifically for this purpose, since none of them are the cute patterns Olivia loves. You also know that underneath there’s cling wrap covering the table, for cleanliness and just in case. It hadn’t been often you had been on this kitchen table instead of the clinic table, but the procedure Evelyn has around it isn’t unknown to you. A lot more organized than what Wade’s and Logan’s had been. 

You banish the thought of them from your mind as you put your backpack down, dipping your hand inside to fish out the box of carefully wrapped brownies out, and present them to Olivia. She gasps at you, almost yanking the box out of your hand with how fast she takes it.

“Sometimes I swear it’s like you are my second soulmate.” Your stomach swoops at her words, and you make a face. She knows and disagrees with your view on soulmates, so you know it’s a friendly jab, and normally you wouldn’t have cared, but this time it hits something you don’t like.

“Yeah, yeah.” You roll your eyes at her, focusing on Evelyn instead as Olivia goes to put her treasure away. “Ready for me doc?” Seems to be the perfect time to ask that question as Evelyn puts gloves on and pats the table. 

“Up you go.” You do as asked, hoisting yourself up. You take your shirt off, balling it up, putting it under your head as you lay down, getting comfortable. “Feeling fine?” Evelyn starts to peel your bandages off, slowly and carefully.

“Yeah. They seem to be doing fine, in my non-medical opinion.” She hums, and you know she’s taking your words into consideration, but it won’t really matter much before she has had a look herself. You let your eyes stay open, watching the ceiling as you hear Olivia putter around the kitchen, and feel Evelyn poke around your wounds.

Nasty couple of things. Well, they had been. You have been surprised nothing had gotten infected, you had no idea how well Wade took care of his swords, how nasty or not they were. But well, to be fair to him, if you had gotten an infection, your makeshift bandages would have been just as likely a culprit.

“Looks like you won’t die anytime soon, but they’ll still leave some nasty scars behind.” Evelyn offers, seeming to be done with her inspection of you, as she changes gloves, and starts applying new bandages. You shrug, you figured out much. Nothing cuts that deep without leaving behind a mark.

Well, unless you are a super healing mutant. Even after you had tried multiple times. Both with a katana and a gun.

Should you even feel bad for hurting your soulmates like that when it was done when in panic but with the knowledge it would heal? And you got more permanently hurt?

And to be fair, Wade had knocked you out before you ever hurt them after realizing they were your soulmates, so it wasn’t like you hadn’t been hurt, but you shot them both. Caused them more pain.

So maybe you are all a little beyond messed up. 

Made for each other, like that soulmate shit implies.

You shake your head at that thought, dispelling it into the ether, which gets you a weird look from Evelyn as she finishes with your bandage.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, I just haven’t been sleeping right.”

“Chest pain?” Her hands hover near your chest, but move away as you shake your head.

“No, shoulder and upper back, think I’ve accidentally pulled something.” She frowns.

“I thought I told you to not work out or put unnecessary strain on your body as you heal.” You know what it’s from, and it’s definitely not that.

“I haven’t been working out or lifting anything heavy, I promise. I’m just an old man.” You joke, she rolls your eyes at you as you sit up, taking the glass of water Olivia offers you.

“Let me know if it keeps up, and I’ll see if I can’t figure out what it is, and get you something for it.” She can’t know and won’t be able to get you anything, but still you nod.

“Am I allowed to put my shirt back on Doc, or do you just want to ogle me some more?” You joke, this earns you a slap on the shoulder by a now gloveless hand just after Olivia hands you a chocolate chip cookie. 

“Thought you were making pasta?” You get off the table and take a bite out of your cookie as Olivia smiles at you, and Evelyn starts cleaning up.

“I am, but good patients get rewards.” 

“What am I, five?” You joke, Olivia reaches out as if to take the cookie out of your hand, you take a step back. “I prefer your cookies over any stupid little toy.” Olivia’s smile is bright, and if you weren’t gay and she didn’t have a soulmate, she could have been your type. She turns around, planting a kiss on Evenlyn’s cheek as she passes her on her way to grab ingredients for the dinner she is going to make for you all.

You lean on the kitchen counter and munch on your cookie, mindful to stay in the background and out of the way for them both as they move around each other with ease. Evelyn cleaning up medical supplies and the makeshift sickbed, Olivia starting to cook dinner.

You don’t want to bring up your soulmates with either of them, since you know their stance on it all is opposite of yours, since they are themselves soulmates. You’ve had plenty of arguments about this both drunk and mostly sober. You think soulmates make one vulnerable and just bring misery in the end, they think it brings strength and that you should enjoy what good you can have in life.

So you know they would just tell you to go to your soulmates, and be with them. 

For the rest of your life. 

Ugh.

You’re fine on (mostly) your own, thanks.

—---

This time, when the universe decides it’s time for some light fuckery, it’s Logan. On his own. And it’s not while you are working. 

Not that it makes it any better.

You are taking it slow, the bar you find yourself in isn’t the fanciest thing, which suits you perfectly. The tables are mostly clean and the floor has seen better days, but they have several types of beer on tap and in bottles, a pool table, and even two shuffleboards. All in all, very casual, somewhere you could sit alone, or join a random group playing one of the games. If money sometimes exchanged hands, both between players and spectators, nobody gave a shit.

You had been a few times before, always enjoying yourself. You’re not even drinking this time, sticking to soda as much as you want to have a proper drink. You had just needed to get out of your apartment, and though you long to feel the burn of alcohol pass over them, you know it won’t heal any faster, so if you can just keep from drinking for a little longer, you can get back to the normal state of things quicker.

Well, as normal as they can get after the universe decided to change the core of your life. You were not one for company, at least not permanently.

Currently you are sitting at a table, watching two long bearded and bald men play pool, making snide comments back and forth. You had made a bet on the man with the scarred ear, but he is losing, pretty badly.

Oh well, 20 bucks isn’t the end of the world.

What kind of feels like it though, is when you spot Logan walking into the bar. He’s wearing normal clothes this time, just some jeans, boots, and a green flannel. He glances around the bar, you duck your head in the hope that he doesn’t see you.

You don’t hope for long though, as a very full glass of what looks like whiskey is sat down next to your soda, and the chair on the other side of the table becomes occupied.

“Logan.” Your uttering of his name in greeting is icy, your name falling from his lips are decidedly less so.

“What are you doing here?” You ask him, feeling your shoulders ease up. Which annoys you so much, he’s just arrived, and he’s already making you feel better. You want to go, to leave, even as your loosening muscles reminds you that staying for a little bit will stave off side effects of your unfortunately shared bond. 

“Drinking.” He grunts, taking a sip of his glass. You roll your eyes and look at him for a few moments, head swirling with thoughts. You settle on one, just to have something to say as you stall and try to figure out how much time you need to feel more than just a little less shitty, though you can’t help but be actually curious as you ask.

“Can you even get drunk with your healing shit?” Logan frowns, and you wonder if that’s his default. You don’t ask about that though.

“With some effort.”

“Why the fuck even be in a bar then?” Your tone is still not kind, even as you  feel your shoulders ache just a little bit less, like you had just massaged over a good spot. He shrugs.

“Company I guess.” It’s your turn to frown.

“I have no interest in being company. Get away from me Logan, or I will make you go away.” You know you should stay close longer so you can also stay away longer, but you are still stubborn, not wanting the fuckery that is soulmates. 

At least if you just stay in the same room, it should help, you think. 

You hope. No need to stay close in the slightest. 

He takes you in, quickly glancing at you from top to toe.

“I -“ You don’t let him speak.

“What did I just say Logan?” He scowls at you, you glare back at him, but let him speak when he opens his mouth this time.

“I don’t like it.” Logan reluctantly admits as the scowl stays on his face. “This being the way we are going about things.” He clarifies.

“Though shit.” He tilts his head at you, scowl turning into more of a squint.

“Are you always this combative?” You feel like a street dog on high alert, barking in warning. 

“Fuck off.” 

“Look-” And when barks don’t work……

“You had your warning.” You say as you grab your knife from your left leg. You stab it into his hand, aiming for the skin between where the claws go through his hand, hitting the jackpot as red seeps around the knife and the tip of it burrows into the table. Seconds later there is warm and sharp metal pushing your chin up. You grin and waggle a finger at him.

“Nah ah, mortal, remember?” You twist the knife around once for good measure, making him grunt in pain, and then pull it out of his hand. You already know you are banned from this bar for life, but you don’t care. His claws retract, this time you realize it actually makes a sound. Huh.

“So you are always this combative.” Logan grits out between his clenched teeth, as his hand heals itself, leaving behind nothing but the blood that spilled out where you stabbed him.

“Fellas, time to go.” A bouncer suddenly stands in front of your table now, a t-shirt with security over his chest in big white letters. He’s huge, towering over both you and Logan, arms ready at his sides, eyes flicking between the two of you. You see Logan seize him up, and for a moment you wonder if he is going to fight the man, but his eyes go to you as you get off your chair.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going.” You put your knife away. “Again, fuck off Logan.” You show him the finger as you walk out. He’s just steps behind you, clearly no longer welcome in the bar either, but he keeps his distance as you both go out of the door. 

You have no idea where he's going, and you have no plans now, so you start walking in the direction of home.

After gaining some distance, you look over your shoulder. You don’t want to be followed. Logan is standing just outside of the bar, looking at your retreating back, but he takes a step forward as your eyes connect with his. You show him the finger again as you disappear around a corner.

You rub your forehead as you are out of sight, annoyance cursing through you. You think some of it might be his.

Fuck, you wish you could get drunk right now. Well, you could, but it wouldn’t be good for your healing. And you have no idea how bad or good your control over your bonds are when you’re drunk.

Just another thing for future you to figure out, you guess.

(Part 7)

[soulofapatrick]

Heal Me - Percy Jackson x Female reader 

Summary: Percy flirts with you while you heal him during a game of Capture the Flag

Words: 2.5K 

Warnings: injuries 

Y/N's POV

As the sun begins its descent, painting the sky with hues of gold and pink, the infirmary of Camp Half-Blood buzzes with activity. The day's Capture the Flag match has left its mark, both on the battlefield and in the infirmary. I take a moment to soak in the atmosphere, feeling a sense of camaraderie among my fellow children of Apollo.

The infirmary is a symphony of healing, with each of us Apollo offspring moving with grace and purpose. Our hands, guided by our father's divine gift, dance over the wounds of our fellow campers, weaving spells of restoration and comfort. The scent of medicinal herbs hangs in the air, mingling with the soft murmurs of our incantations.

As I finish tending to a particularly nasty wound on a camper's arm, I turn to see Clarisse La Rue hobbling in, her usually fierce demeanour marred by signs of fatigue. Despite her grumbling, there's a sense of resilience in her eyes as she recounts the day's events.

"It seems you've been through quite the ordeal," I remark, offering her a reassuring smile as I guide her to a vacant cot.

Clarisse snorts, but there's a flicker of appreciation in her expression as I begin my assessment of her injuries. The gash on her arm speaks of fierce battles, the bruise on her thigh a testament to her determination, and the burn mark on her shoulder a reminder of the dangers lurking in the shadows of the forest.

"Those opposing demigods won't know what hit them," she grumbles, though her tone carries a hint of pride amidst the pain.

With practiced hands, I apply soothing salves and healing spells, easing her discomfort with each gentle touch. As the last of her wounds begins to mend, I can't help but feel a surge of admiration for her resilience in the face of adversity.

"There," I say, offering her a warm smile as I finish my work. "You'll be back on your feet in no time.”

Clarisse grunts in acknowledgment, but her eyes hold a glimmer of gratitude as she pushes herself upright, ready to face whatever challenges await her beyond the walls of the infirmary.

As I meticulously tend to Clarisse's injuries, I can't shake the relief coursing through me that I'm not out there on the battlefield today. While the thrill of Capture the Flag has always enticed me, there's a different kind of fulfilment found within the walls of the infirmary. Here, amidst the scent of herbs and the soft hum of incantations, I find solace in the quiet yet profound satisfaction of helping to mend my friends.

Across the room, my brother Will navigates the challenges of a compound fracture with his usual calm and skill. The young Hermes camper, fighting back tears of pain, finds comfort in Will's gentle touch and soothing words. Our eyes meet briefly, sharing a silent understanding of the importance of our roles here. In this sanctuary of healing, we wield our abilities to safeguard the well-being of our fellow demigods.

Just as I finish applying a healing balm to Clarisse's arm, the infirmary door creaks open once more, revealing Annabeth supporting a barely-conscious Malcolm. Without hesitation, I rush to their aid, joining Annabeth in guiding Malcolm to a vacant cot. His injuries are severe—a deep cut mars his forehead, likely inflicted by the sharp edge of an Ares child's sword, while his leg is twisted at an awkward angle.

Instinctively, I assess the extent of his injuries, my heart sinking at the sight of his pale complexion and laboured breathing. But there's no time for despair. With focused determination, I set to work, channeling the healing energies bestowed upon me by our divine parent to mend Malcolm's wounds and ease his pain.

As I work, a sense of urgency drives me forward, fuelled by the knowledge that every moment counts in our world of constant peril. Yet, amidst the chaos, there's a profound sense of purpose that anchors me—a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there is light to be found in the healing touch of a friend.

"Thanks," Annabeth says, her voice carrying a hint of weariness despite her determination, "They set a trap for us near the creek. I should have seen it coming.”

I offer her a sympathetic nod, understanding all too well the dangers lurking in the shadows of the forest. "It sounds like you had a close call. I'm glad you're okay.”

A silent exchange of gratitude passes between us as Annabeth squeezes my shoulder before slipping back into the fray outside. The battlefield awaits her, but here in the infirmary, we continue our quiet work of healing and care.

Turning my attention back to Malcolm, I apply a soothing poultice to his bruise and carefully tend to the cut on his forehead. Each action is imbued with a sense of urgency, a silent prayer for his swift recovery in the face of adversity.

As I finish wrapping Malcolm's injured leg, the infirmary door swings open once more, admitting Percy Jackson. His usual air of confidence is overshadowed by the weariness etched into his features, his body bearing the scars of battle. Deep claw marks mar his chest, a testament to the ferocity of his adversaries, while a vicious burn on his arm adds to the litany of injuries he carries. A pronounced limp accompanies him, signalling the presence of a serious sprain or break.

Despite the severity of his wounds, Percy's gaze remains steady as he meets mine, a silent acknowledgment passing between us. In this moment, words are unnecessary—our shared understanding of the dangers we face is enough.

"Hey," Percy says, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips despite the bruises marring his features. "I think I might need some help.”

I arch an eyebrow, unable to suppress a smile at his antics. "You do realise you can heal yourself with water, right? There's a perfectly good lake just outside.”

He shrugs, his grin turning sheepish. "Yeah, but then I wouldn’t have an excuse to see my favourite Apollo camper, would I?”

Percy's flirtatious banter washes over me, stirring a mix of amusement and warmth within. Despite the chaos and injuries, his easygoing nature never fails to lift my spirits. But beneath the teasing lies a subtle tension, a hint of something deeper that tugs at my heartstrings.

Suppressing a smile, I step closer to Percy, my concern for his injuries overriding the flutter of emotions stirring within me. "Well, lucky for you, I happen to be the best healer in camp," I reply, injecting a mock confidence into my tone. "Now, let's get you patched up before those wounds start attracting monsters.” 

Before I can even finish my sentence, Percy is already in motion, swiftly shedding his shirt and armour with practiced ease. As his shirt slips off his broad shoulders, revealing the intricate network of scars and the defined muscles beneath his skin, I can't help but notice the subtle shift in the atmosphere around us. 

The infirmary seems to hold its breath as Percy sits before me, his physique a testament to the trials he's faced and the battles he's won. His sea-green eyes, flecked with gold like sunlit waves, shimmer with determination and resilience, a reflection of the depths of his soul. His hair, as black as the depths of the ocean, falls in untamed waves around his face, framing his rugged features with an air of wildness and defiance. There's a hint of stubble along his jawline, a reminder of his journey from boyhood to manhood, marked by trials and triumphs.

But it's not just Percy's physical appearance that captivates those around him; it's the aura of strength and vulnerability that surrounds him, drawing others to him like moths to a flame. Despite the scars that mar his skin and the burdens he carries as the son of Poseidon, there's a warmth in his smile, a kindness in his gaze that speaks volumes about the goodness within him. 

As Percy moves with a grace that belies his injuries, the other girls in the infirmary can't help but steal glances in his direction, their eyes lingering on his chiseled features and the effortless confidence with which he carries himself. Some whisper among themselves, their voices hushed with awe and admiration, while others offer shy smiles or lingering looks of appreciation. 

But amidst the silent admiration, I remain focused on my task, to tend to Percy's wounds with precision and care. As my hands work to mend his injuries, I can't help but feel a sense of connection to him, a bond forged in the crucible of battle and tempered by the fires of friendship. 

As I continue to tend to Percy's wounds with precision and care, a sense of focus descends upon me, blocking out the whispers and stolen glances from the other girls in the infirmary. My hands move with practiced ease, guided by the healing energies of Apollo as I work to mend the gashes and bruises that mar his skin. 

Sensing the need for a better angle to properly treat the gash on his chest, I make a split-second decision and sink to my knees in front of him. The move catches Percy off guard, his sea-green eyes widening slightly in surprise before a mischievous grin spreads across his lips. 

"Well, well," he quips, his voice laced with playful amusement. "If you wanted to get between my legs, Sunshine, you only had to ask.” 

His words send a rush of heat to my cheeks, flushing them crimson as I glance up at him, momentarily lost for words. Despite the teasing tone, there's a warmth in Percy's gaze, a silent reassurance that eases the tension between us. 

Clearing my throat, I focus on the task at hand, my hands steady as I continue to tend to his wounds. Percy's thighs part slightly at my presence, a silent invitation that doesn't go unnoticed, sending a shiver down my spine.

Suddenly, Percy’s taking the cloth from my hand and tossing it aside, the action catching me off guard. Before I can react, he hooks a finger under my chin, forcing me to meet his intense gaze. I can't help but be drawn in by the depth of his eyes, the silent communication passing between us palpable in the charged atmosphere of the infirmary. 

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, a seemingly innocent gesture that sends a jolt of electricity coursing through me. I can't tear my eyes away from the subtle movement, my breath catching in my throat as Percy smirks, the tension between us thickening with each passing moment. 

In that moment, it's as if the world falls away, leaving only Percy and me in our own private bubble of desire and longing. The air crackles with anticipation, every touch and glance laden with unspoken promises and hidden desires. 

As Percy's fingers linger against my skin, tracing the line of my jaw with a feather-light touch, I feel a surge of electricity surge through me. It's a sensation unlike anything I've ever experienced, a heady mix of fear and excitement that leaves me breathless and wanting more. But before I can fully process the intensity of the moment, Percy leans closer, his lips hovering just inches from mine. The air between us pulses with raw energy, the anticipation building to a fever pitch as we stand on the precipice of something unknown. 

And then, with a soft sigh, Percy closes the distance between us, his lips capturing mine in a searing kiss that ignites a fire within me. In that moment, all thoughts and doubts melt away, consumed by the overwhelming sensation of being wanted and desired. It's a kiss filled with passion and longing, igniting a fire within me that threatens to consume us both. In that moment, all thoughts and doubts fade into the background, replaced by the overwhelming sensation of being wanted and desired. 

As the kiss deepens, Percy's hands move with purpose, tangling in my hair as he pulls me closer to him. The touch of his fingers against my scalp sends shivers down my spine, the sensation both electrifying and comforting at the same time. With each caress, he draws me further into the depths of his embrace, leaving no room for doubt or hesitation.  

Feeling emboldened by his touch, I let my own hands roam, tracing the contours of his chest and shoulders with trembling fingers. His skin is warm beneath my touch, a stark contrast to the cool air of the infirmary, and I revel in the sensation of being so close to him.

But it's not just the physical closeness that leaves me breathless; it's the intensity of our connection, the unspoken understanding that passes between us with each fleeting touch. In Percy's arms, I feel safe and cherished, as if nothing in the world could ever harm me.

As the kiss deepens, our breath mingles in a heated exchange of desire and longing. Percy's hands trail down my back, pulling me up from my knees and onto his solid lap in one fluid motion. The movement is effortless, as if we were always meant to be this close, this intimate.

For a moment, our lips remain locked in a passionate embrace, unwilling to break the connection that binds us together. But as the need for air becomes too pressing to ignore, we reluctantly part, gasping for breath as our chests heave with the intensity of our shared desire. 

Percy's grip on my hips tightens, his fingers digging into my skin as if afraid I'll slip away if he lets me move even a few centimetres away. There's a hunger in his gaze, a primal need that mirrors my own, as he looks up at me with eyes darkened by desire.

In that moment, with Percy's intense gaze fixed on me, I feel a rush of heat spread through my body, igniting every nerve ending in a blaze of sensation. It's a heady mix of desire and vulnerability, as if we're teetering on the edge of something vast and unknown, ready to leap into the abyss together.

As our eyes lock in silent understanding, I realise that this is more than just a fleeting moment of passion—it's a declaration of our shared connection, a bond forged in the crucible of battle and tempered by the fires of friendship.

And as Percy pulls me closer, his lips seeking mine with a newfound urgency, I know that in this moment, we are bound together by something greater than ourselves—a love that defies the odds and transcends the boundaries of time and space.

Riordanverse Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

@papichulo120627 @guacam011y @alexxavicry @luuuciiia-mr @chan

[heauxvibez]

Tension

warning: Smut (+18)

She currently served as a physical therapist for the WWE, her work quickly capturing the attention of the towering 6 ft 3 wrestler. From the moment their eyes met, a spark ignited. Vivid fantasies consumed his mind and he imagined himself held captive in the curves of her thick thighs, her hands helplessly pinned above her head while she begged for his touch.

Although his thoughts of her were lustful, genuine feelings lingered below. Roman's approach, however, focused on the pursuit of feeling her warm, wet walls around him.

Reclining on the table he had specifically ordered for these sessions, Roman's anticipation ate him up as he awaited her arrival. His hamstring troubles had forced him to not perform at the best of his abilities, he was looking forward to the relief her skilled hands would bring to his aching muscles.

As he mindlessly scrolled through Instagram, he was interrupted by her entrance into the room. He watched her appreciatively, taking in the sight of her pretty, black curls claw-clipped into a wild bun, much like his. Soft tendrils of hair dangled near her sideburns. She had done a quick wash and go and was proud of herself for making it look as good as it did.

She exuded a quiet confidence, her small frame enveloped by the vibrant hues of her floral scrubs.

"Thanks again for coming to my house to do this. I know today was your day off," he acknowledged, his voice portraying a hint of gratitude tinged with longing.

"No, it's fine. I didn't have anything better to do," she replied with a soft smile and a shrug. Honestly, if anyone else had asked her to do so, she would’ve immediately denied. But, in this case, every fiber of her being yearned for his presence. She found herself captivated by him, his presence easily invoking a mix of emotions that she struggled to contain.

He carefully placed his phone on the table and flipped onto his stomach. He crossed one arm over the other and laid his head comfortably on top of his arms.

Each time he felt her touch, it felt like electric shocks hummed through his veins. He often found himself battling the urge to pull her close, taken over by the need to explore every single part of her body.

"You know, just because you're here to work doesn't mean you have to wear those little flowery scrubs." he teased, a playful grin dancing on his lips.

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and amusement, a nervous laugh slipping past her lips as she dispensed a dollop of oil into her palms, rubbing them together with practiced ease.

"I'll keep that in mind for next time," she replied, her voice laced with a hint of self-consciousness as she prepared to begin.

As her hands glided up the smooth fabric of his basketball shorts, she couldn't help but notice the subtle tension in his muscles. She was sure she was just as tense as him though. But despite her nerves, she focused intently on her task, determined to ease his discomfort.

With each skilled movement of her hands, soft groans of pain and pleasure slipped from him as she melted his knots away.

Her arousal was coursing through her veins, her touch both tender and purposeful. Just touching him was leaving her breathless.

By the time she finished working on his legs, she found herself soaked, her mind reeling from the intoxicating mix of his muted groans and the scent of his skin. She found it almost impossible to resist him.

As he rose from the table, she couldn't help but admire the newfound grace in his movements, the progress they had made together over the past weeks was tremendous. His praise washed over her like a wave, filling her with a pride and accomplishment she hadn't known before.

"Your hands are like magic," he murmured appreciatively with a small grip on her shoulder. His touch sent a shiver down her spine.

"Thanks," she replied softly, another nervous giggle bubbling up from within her as she gathered her belongings, almost running away from the tension between them.

With a final glance, she turned and made her way toward the stairs, the weight of his gaze lingering on her like a caress. As she disappeared from view, she couldn't shake the feeling that it would somehow, someway be a while before she would start heading home.

She found herself lost in the sensual melody of "Earned It" by The Weeknd as she placed the massage oils in the cabinet. She had realized she'd been over to his house a lot more often to treat him, so she figured why not keep them here to maintain his plan of care.

Glancing at her reflection in the mirror, she couldn't help but fuss over the loose tendrils of hair, each rebellious strand mocking her efforts. The bobby pins seemed to have a mind of their own, failing to secure the unruly locks in place.

With a heavy sigh, she rested her hands on the cool marble countertop, feeling the weight of frustration settle upon her shoulders. The pressure mounted as she attempted to tame her hair, her fingers fumbling with the stubborn strands.

She paused to catch her breath, dipping her head down and closing her eyes, searching for any sign of composure amidst the sexual tension. Was it truly the bobby pins that troubled her, or was she just frustrated? Frustrated with the way the Samoan man was engraved in her mind.

As she continues to fight her silent battle in front of the mirror. Roman had other plans..

Her heart skipped a beat as strong arms encircled her waist from behind, pulling her into an unexpected embrace. Keeping her eyes closed, she threw her head back, trying to figure out if this was just a figment of her imagination or reality.

"Roman, wait..." she murmured, attempting to break free from his grasp, but his hold remained firm, a silent insistence that she stay.

"Let's not pretend that you don't want me," he interjected with a sly grin, his hands venturing beneath her shirt to explore the contours of her stomach.

She finally opened her eyes, meeting his. The weight of his gaze put her in a trance.

Her breath hitched as he turned her to face him. With trembling hands, she traced a tentative path down his now bare chest, each touch eliciting a low groan of pleasure from him. Pressed against the cool surface of the sink, her senses heightened by the heady scent of his cologne and the warmth of his skin against hers.

With a mixture of nervousness and excitement, she slid his shorts down, her fingers lingering over the tantalizing curve of his hips. As she began to stroke him, his hips moved in sync with her rhythm. The soft caress of her hand had him weak-kneed.

Her pussy grew wetter with each stroke, she couldn't help but softly moan at his easy submission. With a sense of power she had never known before, she brought him to the brink of release, his ragged breaths and whispered pleas urging her on.

“Don’t stop, please,” he whimpered with his eyes locked in on her own. His hands reach behind her, placing them on the counter, knuckles almost turned white at the grip while his precum dripped down her fingers and into her palm. She literally had him in the palm of her hands melting like chocolate.

“Mmm, but you don’t want to finish like this daddy. I know you don’t..,” she moaned while slowing down her strokes. He smirked and so did she, they knew exactly how to drive each other wild.

He grabbed her hand and took her finger into his mouth tasting himself, his precum lathering his tongue. He moaned softly staring deeply into her eyes as he stuck his tongue out and danced it around her fingers.

A moaned escaped her throat as she watched. She had never seen something so sexy in her life and the fact that he was staring into her soul while doing so was enough to make her juices slowly drip past her lips and down her thighs.

He chuckled darkly as he watched her fall into a trance and turned her around to face the mirror. With a hunger, he stripped away her scrubs, revealing the full extent of her beauty in the soft glow of the bathroom light. As he used his teeth to remove her panties, she gasped at the soft drag of the lace against her smooth skin, her body thrumming as he slid off the thin piece of clothing.

With each touch, each caress, she felt herself unraveling in his arms, her desire for him reaching a fever pitch. As he rid her of her bra, she surrendered herself completely to the moment, her body trembling with pleasure as they got lost in each other.

As his hands explored her torso, she basked in his touch, each caress leaving trails of goosebumps.

When he eased himself inside her, she couldn't help but gasp at his girth. It was as if every nerve ending in her body had come alive. His size stretched her in a way that both thrilled and challenged her, almost pushing her over the edge with each thrust.

Roman paused, his movements becoming slow and deliberate. His gaze, dark with desire, bore into hers through the mirror. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, the sight of her was so fulfilling.

"Damn, girl," he murmured huskily as he began to move, his hips setting a rhythm that matched the frantic beat of her heart. His thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing over her, building the tension between them to an almost unbearable intensity.

With every touch, every stroke, he worshipped her body as if it were a precious work of art, his hands exploring every curve with a reverence that made her heart swell. And when he finally wrapped his fingers around her throat, applying just enough pressure to send her into a state of euphoria, she couldn't help but whimper.

"Say my name, baby," he growled, his voice a rough whisper.

And as she complied, her voice barely a breathless murmur, he rewarded her with a slow, sensuous kiss behind her ear that left her head spinning and her body aching for more.

"Louder," he demanded, his fingers teasing her clit with a skill that bordered on torture. And as she cried out his name,

"Daddy!" her voice echoed in the bathroom, he knew that he had finally broken through her defenses, unleashing a raw passion.

Their bodies moved together in a symphony, sounded like one too. Her pussy gushed, making the sweetest sound. The wettest sound.

His middle finger continued to move in mind-numbing circles. Her body wanted to crumble forward but he held her throat with a tight grip, a grip that kept her stable.

"Give me my nut baby, it's mine. I want it over my dick.", he whispered behind her ear, placing a gentle kiss on her shoulder while he gave her some not-so-gentle strokes.

With him hitting her g-spot and rubbing on her clit, she felt her climax approaching. Her breathes with getting shorter, her curls were sticking to her forhead, and this man was tearing her up.

And when she finally reached her peak, her release crashed over her. He followed close behind, his own climax tearing through him with a force that left him gripping onto her body for dear life.

They stood together in the quiet, their breaths echoing throughout the room. She leaned into his embrace, their bodies entwined, the lingering heat between them melting into a shared warmth as they savored the aftermath.

His lips trailed feather-light kisses along her neck, before pulling away. A soft whimper escaped her lips at the loss, a smile forming as their eyes locked silently.

With a turn, she reached for him again, her arms enveloping his neck, drawing him into an embrace. Their lips met in a deep kiss.

As they pulled away, their breaths mingling in the stillness, he tenderly brushed his thumb against her parted lips.

"How about we go another round, baby girl," he murmured, his voice low and husky. She smiled, feeling her core tingle once more.

"Mmm, I like the sound of that." she hummed in agreement, her voice tinged with anticipation as she leaned in closer to him.

---------------------------------------------

Hope y'all liked this! Please excuse any and all mistakessss, thanks!!! lololol

Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @spritelucozade @empressdede @alichesmi @kumapassion @msbigredmachine @theninthwonder @mzv11 @wrestlingprincess80

If you would like to be added to my tag list, please direct message me! Sometimes people's requests to be added get lost in my mentions and it's hard for me to find them, so please please please don't be shy!

[bbieangel]

Sunday Mornings — Joel Miller x F!Reader (No outbreak AU)

Summary: He was usually the one in charge. But sometimes he would test your limits to the point where you needed to teach him a lesson.

A/N: Hello hello! I've been really inspired if you can tell lol. Something possessed me to write this and it's currently 4 am, so I hope you enjoy it. I would love some feedback on my writings and remember that my requests are open! I'll leave you to it. (and yes, the song "Sunday Morning" by Maroon 5 inspired the title)

Warnings and tags: Smut, lots of it. This is basically porn without a plot. Edging, breeding kink if you squint, f!dom and sub!joel. but then joel!dom and sub!reader. oral m receiving. unprotected p in v (it's fiction, please don't do this in reality), dirty talk, orgasm denial, reader has a vagina and breasts, joel is a tease, slightly rough sex, a little bit of pain being inflicted, after care (lots of it <3)

Word count: 14.4k (don't ask me how)

divider by @/ peony chance on pinterest!

It had all started Saturday morning while you prepared breakfast. Sloppy kisses on your neck, biting at your collarbone. His hands would knead your ass and breasts. He would whisper into your ear everything he wanted to do to you when he came from work and you wanted to hold him to that promise.

But of course, work wasn't easy and he came back wrecked. Only wanted to sleep and you weren't one to demand him anything when you knew his work left him feeling exhausted some days. But it frustrated you every time it happened, he would rile you up and leave for work, leaving you to satisfy yourself however you could.

That Sunday you decided to get up and take a shower. Sundays meant slow mornings and lazy afternoons either way.

You got out of the shower, already having changed into your night gown that looked more like a dress inside of the bathroom, and you felt your boyfriend's intense gaze linger on every curve of your body. From your toes to the last hair on your head, he gawked at the sight of it all. The way the nightgown hung over the swell of your breasts, how it was just barely covering your ass with a small piece of lace. Your skin was shining from that new body lotion you had tried out, the smell being intoxicating to his nostrils. He wanted to lick it off of you. It almost felt like a personal attack, as if you were doing it on purpose.

And the thing was.. you actually were doing it to provoke him. You had gotten tired of him teasing you all day only for you to end up having to use your hands to get some relief while he walked out of the front door with that shit-eating grin on his face.

A taste of his own medicine wouldn't hurt. And, either way, he always ended up submitting to you completely. Or so you thought.

He smirked when you got on top of him, straddling his lap without saying anything. When his hands began to make their way like snakes moving under your gown, you slapped his hand away.

He yelped, looking at you with a frown.

"Ow! What was that for?"

He asked, holding his hand like a puppy who walked with his wounded paw, hanging. You grinned at the sight, the way he played the victim perfectly made you chuckle every time.

"You're not in control tonight."

You explained, and the way your eyes darkened and your voice dropped two octaves seemed to make him realize you weren't joking. That you were serious about it all, and that both excited and scared him. Because he knew too well how dominant you could be when given the opportunity.

"So I can't touch you? Anywhere?"

He asked, his voice already giving away how he would submit at the snap of your fingers.

"No. Not until I say so. Understood?"

You said with the same tone as before. One of your hands crawled up his chest until you found one of the pebbles on his chest and rubbed it with your thumb.

He let out a choked up moan, taken by surprise. He bit down on his lower lip and closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling. At the lack of response, you pinched it.

He whimpered and gasped, trying to sound more hurt than he really was just because you couldn't find out that he liked a bit of pain.

"Answer me, Joel."

"Yes! Yes, I understand."

He said, his voice hoarse with desire and a hint of submission.

"Yes what?"

You asked, taking advantage of his current state. He gulped before answering, his cheeks flushed a pretty rosey pink that reminded you of a liquid blush he gifted you just a couple of weeks ago.

"Y-Yes, ma'am."

He said. Oh, how well trained you had him. Almost like a dog.

Your hands traveled up and down his chest, your nails barely even touching him. The feeling was so feathery, so teasing that he couldn't help but buckle his hips underneath you just to get a bit of relief. You pinched his nipple again.

"No, no. You either take what I give you or you don't have anything."

You said, waiting for him to answer. He was quicker to react this time.

"Sorry, ma'am. It won't happen again."

He said, his eyelids dropped while his chest rose and fell heavily, trying to get a grip on himself. It was almost too easy to get him to submit, but again, it was Joel Miller. The most stubborn person you knew.

So, you should've expected his next move as you leaned down, your lips hovering over one of his nipples. Your breath tickled his skin in a way that felt torturous and delicious at the same time. But you couldn't take your time, no, he wouldn't let you. He immediately pressed your head down against him, making your lips wrap around his nipple.

He was stronger than you so getting his arm out of the way wasn't a battle you were going to win. But you could use other strategies to finally put him in his place, such as biting down his nipple. He jumped, letting go of your head. The bite hadn't been that strong either way.

Your tongue lapped against the reddened and hard button just one, and then you pulled away.

"You know what? I'm tired of you being a goddamn brat. You're going to learn how to be in your place."

You spoke through clenched teeth as you pulled down his boxers, making him gasp. His cock laid against his soft stomach, all hard and already glistening with a bead of precum. The tip was a shade of red you would only see when he was really desperate, and this time wasn't any different.

You were going to give him what he wanted, or at least you made him believe that's what you were going to do. You spat down on your palm and wrapped your long fingers around his thick length, pumping him at a steady rhythm.

His back arched and your name fell out of his plush, velvety lips. The sound went straight to your core, making you drip with desire and clench around a ghostly feeling of the countless times he had fucked you that week.

He, on the other hand, was too far gone to notice that. His eyes were closed as he groaned and gripped the sheets to try and ground himself.

"Eyes on me, pretty boy."

You commanded and he complied, looking at you with these chocolate dripping irises of his. The ones that had made you fall in love with him in the first place, and ones that could make you melt into a puddle of nothingness.

You nodded softly at him.

"I know, baby. It feels so good, doesn't it?"

You cooed, the sound of your tender voice contrasting your harsh actions as your pace picked up drastically. With that, you earned a louder moan from Joel, one that indicated you had found the perfect pace. One of his hands went to touch your cheek but he seemed to remind himself of your previous boundaries, so he held back.

"Good boy, Joel. I knew you could be good for me, baby."

You spoke into his ear and all of the hairs in his body stood up, sending a delicious pang of warmth to his lower stomach. One that stirred his closeness.

Suddenly, you slowed down, which pulled him out of his almost drunken state. His eyes snapped open at you with a look of betrayal, almost.

"Darlin' why are you stoppin'?"

He questioned you, his legs trembling with need for release.

"I don't know."

You shrugged, leaving him to overthink the reasons as you leaned down. You took him into your mouth, not even giving him time to adjust to the warmth and dampness of your oral cavity before you moved down, down, down..

Until your lips touched the base of his cock. He cried out your name and his grip on the sheets only grew stronger. You, on the other hand, inhaled deeply through your nose, combating against your gag reflex.

"Sweetheart, if you don't move I'm— mmph— Imma c-come.."

You let him go with a pop. He let out a whine, something you had never heard before. Joel Miller was, indeed, a whiner after all.

He grunted with frustration, finally picking up on what you were doing. Denying him the right to have his orgasm.

After a few seconds you started pumping him with your hand again, making his face twitch with pleasure. His skin seemed golden under the cast of the sun that slipped through your curtains. Slow mornings with lazy sex were a one thing, but slow mornings where you could edge Joel Miller? That hadn't happened before, and you were enjoying every second of it.

As you grabbed one of his balls and started massaging it, he tried to close his legs with a moan. His abdomen contracted in a way that told you he was about to be close again.

"Ah, ah. Keep them spread for me, baby boy."

You spoke lowly and he complied with a whine, looking at you with glassy eyes.

"Oh.. What's wrong? You don't like being edged?"

You said with a mocking pout. He whined again at that, knowing he was in a place you had been countless of times. This time he would get to feel how frustrating it was to get your orgasm being taken away at the last moment, over and over again.

He nodded, his eyebrows scrunched up in the most beautiful way.

"N-No, ma'am, I don't like it. Just.. let me come."

He spoke, his voice was ragged with desire and you were afraid he would draw blood from his bottom lip if he kept chewing on it like that.

"Is that the proper way to ask me? Try again."

You spoke, letting go of his length once again. The absence of your skin around him left him feeling the way his heard was pounding on his ears. Not for too long, though, because you were back at taking him until his tip was touching the spongy skin on the back of your throat.

He let out a ragged scream, then gasped for air. He hit the mattress like a wrestling player did when they were being grabbed with too much force.

"I'm gonna— darlin'— I'm—"

He said, and once again to no one's surprise, you pulled him out of your mouth. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of his length all covered in your saliva and precum just pouring out of his red, angry tip.

"Please, please ma'am. Please let me come, I promise I won't tease you again."

He panted, looking at you with glassy eyes. His expression was a sight to behold: his lips were slightly swollen and parted, his chest rose and fell rapidly at the way he tried to catch his breath, his cheeks tinted almost red.

A bead of sweat rolled down his temple, and his hair was disheveled. All spread out for you, Joel Miller was begging for you. And it made you feel proud, so much that for a moment you forgot the power he actually had over you.

At your lack of response and the way you were almost gawking at his cock, he flipped you onto your back and caged you under him. You gasped in surprise but he was quicker, holding your wrists above your head.

"I'm tired, darlin'. I'll make sure I get my fill until the neighbors are complaining 'bout your damn screams."

He spoke, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

He almost ripped your panties apart by how hard he pulled them. He would never hurt you, never touch a hair on your body. But when it came to being rough he almost transformed into a different person.

You immediately felt two of his thick, long fingers stretch you out. He pumped them easily, given how wet you already were.

"Yeah, she's so wet for me. Already makin' a mess of the new sheets, isn't she?"

He spoke and you could only nod as he curled your fingers, touching that spot he knew by memory now. You arched your back.

"Shh, I know she feels good. M'gonna fill 'er up over and over."

He whispered in that velvety, smooth voice he managed to pull out in moments like this. His southern drawl was ten times sexier during sex.

He pulled his fingers out, all slick and shiny with your juices. Your hole clenched around nothing, making you feel empty.

He brought his fingers up to your lips, you already knew what to do. You parted your lips open and he pushed them inside, the tangy flavor making you hum in pleasure. If Joel Miller knew one thing you would never admit, was that you loved to taste yourself.

After you licked his fingers clean, he pulled them out and sucked on them. He gripped your hips and aligned himself with you, making you squirm when the tip threatened to enter.

"So eager for me, baby. Look at 'er, clenching 'round nothing. M'gonna give her something to clench around."

He said, hovering over your body until your lips were almost touching. With one swift movement, he drowned himself inside of you, making you spill onto the sheets.

He groaned and you let out a cry, at which he hushed you.

"Shh, I know. I know it hurts but you brought this upon yourself, darlin.'"

He spoke as he started moving without giving you even a second to adjust. Your walls clenched him in ways that made him almost delirious.

He moaned and panted into your ear, adding to the whole overwhelming experience.

"She's so tight, honey. Gonna milk me dry, isn't she?"

She spoke and you could only babble incoherent sentences, too far gone in the mixture of fading pain being quickly replaced by pure pleasure.

"Mmph—Joel.."

His name rolled off your tongue so sweetly, so desperately that it almost broke his dominance. But again, you had played with him for a long time, making him look pathetic.

And he would return the favor.

As he picked up the pace, your hand tried to go to your sex so you could rub your clit in search of that release you desperately needed. But he pulled your hand away, holding it above your head again.

"This ain't 'bout you, sweetheart. I will come first, then we'll see what I do with ya."

He spoke as he started thrusting you harder, the room being filled by the pat, pat, pat of his hips snapping against your skin, and his balls hitting the swell of your ass.

You closed your fists around the air because, if your hands were free, you would be carving your name on his back.

As his body started trembling you knew he was close, also by the way his cock twitched inside of you.

One, two, three thrusts and he gripped your hips so hard you were sure you would walk around with bruises for the next few days. The warm liquid of his seed spilled inside of you and, by consequence, onto the poor sheets that were almost transparent by now. He groaned and panted onto the crook of your neck.

After catching his breath he pulled out, collecting the remaining of his semen dripping from your hole and pushing it inside once again.

"Gotta keep it inside, darlin'. And ya better do because if not, m'gonna fill you up again."

He said and you whimpered. You could feel your little bundle of nerves pulsating with need, and he simply left you unattended.

As he went to the bathroom you held your legs up against your chest, clenching tight so nothing would spill out. He came back with a rag to clean up himself and you, but when he raised an eyebrow at your direction you knew you were fucked. Quite literally.

It was impossible to keep it inside, what did he think? That it wouldn't drip?

Without speaking, he brought you over to the edge of the bed and placed a pillow under your pelvis to hold you up. Then, he went and positioned himself between your legs again.

"This is what happens when you try to be dominant. What did you learn today, darlin'?"

He asked as he buried himself inside of you once again, making you cry out in pleasure. Your pussy was just exhausted from keeping up with him, and so were you. You just wanted him to let you come on his dick, or without it, you couldn't care less anymore.

"T-That I shouldn't –fuck, Joel – I shouldn't try to be dominant."

You spoke as hot tears streamed down your face, your legs trembling as he put one over his shoulder. You screamed in pleasure when the new position angled him better to touch that part of your cervix that made you see stars.

"That's a girl.. If you keep up, Imma let you come. Is that what you want? You wanna come?"

He asked, and you knew it was better to answer rather quickly.

"Yes! Yes, please. Please let me come."

You responded desperately, grasping his arms and digging your nails on his flesh. Take it as a way to return the bruises on your hips.

He kept on hitting that same spot inside of you, making you squirm and call out his name like a prayer. He wouldn't give you a break, wouldn't let you catch your breath.

Suddenly, he licked his thumb and pressed it against your clit, making you grip the sheets.

"Please, p-please, Joel. Please let me."

You mumbled and he smirked at the sight of you. Your hair was sticking to your face after sweating so much, and your lower lip was swollen from biting down on it. Soft, glistening tears made their way down your cheeks.

"'s okay, princess. Imma take care of you. Just gonna fill you up once more."

He spoke in a slightly breathless tone. His body was covered in sweat as well and his face scrunched up every time he would push his cock into your cunt once again. He picked up his pace and began rubbing your clit without stopping.

You wanted to come? Fine. But he wouldn't be gentle about it.

Your moans began coming out more shortly and fast paced, leaving almost no space between one and the next.

"Come f'me, sweetheart. Let me hear you while I fill you up again."

He spoke against your ear, holding your waist now. His hands trembled as he spoke, he was so close.

You were drenched at this point, mixed juices dripping to the floor as you felt him twitch once again inside of you. A rush of white painted your walls and that was the deal breaker for you.

You screamed as you came, tears coming out harder as you gripped his arm like a lifeline. You weren't sure when it would ever stop, the endless waves of pleasure hitting you over and over again.

The next thing happened all while you tried to recover. Joel pulled out with a grunt and placed a soft kiss on your forehead, then reached for the wet rag and very carefully cleaned you up.

He scooped you out of bed and had you sit down on the toilet, all while he changed the sheets into new ones.

"I'll be right back, sweetheart. I jus' need to change those sheets, okay?"

He said before kissing your cheek lovingly. When he came back he didn't even let you walk back, oh no, he couldn't let you lift a finger. He scooped you back up and laid you in bed, tucking you in.

You felt as if your limbs had turned into jelly and your mind was still too focused in coming down from everything that had happened. So, he wasn't surprised when you simply closed your eyes and let yourself be pulled into his chest, cradling you with his arms.

Before that, though, he helped you sit up just for a moment so you could chug on a glass of cold water he had brought for you. That helped make you feel a little bit more composed.

He spoke loving words to you, telling you how amazing you were and how much he loved you. Sunday mornings were almost ritually like that with Joel: wake up, have sex, and go back to sleep in the arms of one another.

His fingers gently threaded your hair when slumber called you and you answered, falling asleep on his chest. His movements became lazier and slower until they came to a stop when he also fell asleep, all while keeping an arm over your waist.

Because, no matter how rough he was during your most intimate moments, he would always protect and care for you. Even in his sleep.

[raitonsfw]

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: | 1 | Nikolai switched the plates on you, and suddenly the aphrodisiacs that were supposed to be coursing through his veins suddenly rushed through yours... | 2 | Round after round after round, Nikolai decided his cock was best spent nestled deep inside your cunt for the night– sleep evading your senses.

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, fem!reader... | 1 | aphrodisiacs, accidental drug usage, manipulation, teasing, dirty talk, desperation, mentions of multiple positions & kinks (anal, spanking, bondage, use of nikolai's ability for sexual purposes), petnames (dove, my love, my sweet) | 2 | pussy worship, cockwarming, dirty talk, p in v intercourse, creampie, hint of a breeding kink, petnames (princess, dove), he's lovey dovey here and slightly whiney (he doesn't wanna pull out)

a/n: | 1 | i found a way to include his ability hehe, this thirst had me reeling for a long while. wc: 600ish. | 2 | to cockwarm nikolai would be an honour... he's just sooo pretty. wc: 600ish. v-day m.list | m.list

thirst count: 2

divider credit: @hitobaby & @firefly-graphics

| 1 |

Oh, you didn’t think Nikolai would be so cruel. When you tried to stand from the confines of the table, you saw the smirk that leveled his face. “N-Nikolai, did you switch the food?”

“Whatever are you talking about, dove?” He smirked at you, his hand resting carefully against the nook of his gloved palm. His eyes had sparkled the very first time you took a bite of the dinner you had made for the two of you– one plate mixed with potent aphrodisiacs and the other simmered down with nothing but what was originally in the rice pot. 

You wanted to see him panting, ripping off his clothing, his cloak– yours too, just to be inside you, inside something that would calm him down from the painful ache of the aphrodisiacs… and the best part is he wouldn’t even know why he was like that. He’d be totally overwhelmed by the throb of his pretty cock, straining against his striped trousers and he wouldn’t even realize that you had put sexual stimulants in his rice until he was on his knees in front of you– begging for relief from his precious innocent girl. And that’s when he’d realize, his cards falling out of favor.

 It was the perfect plan to get him to submit to you for once. 

But you realized that your plan had totally backfired as your arousal dripped into the lace, pooling right underneath the warmth of your cunt. It was cool and sticky against your skin and you squirmed in your seat, a needy whine escaping your throat as you moved too suddenly, the lace rubbing up against your swollen clit. 

“My love, are you– aroused?” Nikolai had lifted from his seat with faux shock painting his face, his hand offering out towards your shoulder and you immediately tried to pull him down but he shifted back with a smirk. “Need some help?”

“Need you to fuck me– Lai, shit, I hate you…” And he only murmured as you cursed him for swapping the rice dishes. Your mind was absolutely whirling, your skin flushed hot and all you could think about was getting his cock inside you as soon as possible. You fucking needed it– honestly you needed anything at this point and your fingers came down to swipe at the wet material of your clothing, you were like a goddamn leaky faucet. Your pussy clenched around nothing as he tutted at you with a frowny face, moving to stand behind you. 

“No, no… I didn’t tell you to touch yourself.” He ran a finger down the underside of your chin before softly grabbing at it, making you peer towards his face above you and you tilted your neck up obediently. You didn’t care to listen to what he had to say after that though, your senses far gone from the grasps of reality.

You started to babble on about the ideas floating in your head. Normally, you’d keep quiet about your fantasies, but you couldn’t help yourself; it all came spilling out as you looked up at him, his heterochromatic eyes lurking with a mischievous smile. ��Nikolai– can we try a new position? Want you to fuck me on this table, but not my pussy…” 

“Anal? Why not also try bondage, my sweet?” Nikolai had both hands on your shoulders now, careful to not rouse you too much as he bent down beside you. His silky braid fluttered against your back as he whispered in your ear, one glove escaping into his coat as he pulled out a wrap of ribboned rope from the golden portal within “Maybe I can get you in the perfect position, where I can spank you for being such a bad girl…” 

Yes, Nikolai was cruel– vile and you practically felt his devious grin floating behind your ear as he swept down to bind you.

| 2 |

“Sorry, princess… Couldn’t go another second without your pussy squeezing me soo tightly.” Nikolai groaned into your ear as he bottomed out in you again, for the third time that night. 

“Lai…” You moaned into his mouth as he pressed it against yours, reveling in the way he slid in and out of you feverishly. You were tired, but you just couldn’t resist him; it was Valentine’s Day after all and you barely got to see him with his carded debut in his shady organization. 

He hiked your legs up against his shoulders, his braid fluttering down his chest and you threw your head back in a bitey moan. You knew his eyes were gleaming on your folds, taking him in so nicely as they swiped slick onto his cock. Even behind his card mask you could recognize the shine to them from the turquoised scar; he was focusing solely on how wet you were and how so fucking pliant you were, sucking him in with every thrust. Nikolai was a creature of habit, you knew all his tricks and that made you perfect for him, perfect for the length of his cock nearly folding you in two.

“Gonna fill you up again– Ah, c’mon dove, don’t be shy…” He teased, voice rough and his white knuckled gloves came up to brush your arm away from your face. Every roll of his hips had you in a trance, rutting against your sweet spot and gripped at his hands as they intertwined with yours. A smirk plastered onto his face as he saw your eyes roll back when he worked his thrusts faster into you. 

You whimpered as you felt his cock twitch inside of you and a weak moan fell from his lips as he came inside of you, some of it leaking out as he fucked it into you with a heavy sigh. He had buried his face into the crook of your neck not long after, lavishing kisses against it as you rode out your high. As you regained your senses, the feeling in your cunt felt a little odd and you realized Nikolai hadn’t pulled out yet. 

Did he want to go another round?

“Nikolai.” You said in a quiet tone as you rubbed your palms up the sides of his waist which in turn, he shuddered. “Are you not going to pull out?” 

“Don’t think so.” He said flatly. You couldn’t detect if this was a joke or not, but he didn’t budge even as you wiggled underneath him. “Hey–!” 

“Lai, come on.” You said with a short laugh, sleep trudging up within your eyelids and you were a few minutes from passing out. “Come lay next to me.”

“But you’re soo warm around me… I don’t wanna pull out.”  He muttered into your skin, his tongue laving at a bruise he marked on you earlier in the day. You whined at the soreness of it, scratching at his back lovingly to try to get him to roll off of you. You were quickly losing the battle though as he dug himself deeper into you, his cock snug and his chest flush with yours. Nikolai let out a soft noise of content as your body relaxed against his, his hands mimicking yours against your waist.

You watched as his head bobbed up to stare at you and you reached up with a small smile, removing his card mask to reveal his other eye. Jade peeked back at you in a mischievous glance, a coy smile written on his lips. “There you are. Did you want to sleep like this?” 

“Absolutely.” His voice was like static to you, raspy and quiet as his eyes etched with sleep whilst looking at you. And you figured, why not let him? 

You just have to be ready to wake up later on… with his thrusts shaking you awake.

[holy-amelie]

idk if it just me being depressed, but I want to live in sunday's dream. Live of escapism with nothing but joy. But I too know it's unhealthy.

AE!reader where joining the crew is their escape from their home planet, so they understand sunday's point of view of things, and to remind him he's not alone and they can grow out of it together.

idk if this is considered trauma dump or not, but if you're uncomfortable, it's okay to not write this too.

lots of love and I hope you have a good day

'Escapism' sfw (Sunday)

...when the world is too cruel ˎˊ˗

·.༄࿔ characters: Sunday, you

·.༄࿔ pairing: Sunday x g/n!AE!reader

·.༄࿔ cw: no tw, fluff and hurt/comfort, non-native english author, written before 2.7, but contains spoilers/leaks, be careful! Can be ooc but this is how I see him at the moment. You are from the Astral Express here.

·.༄࿔ a/n: thank you fror your request! And don't worry, love, I totally understand that feeling 💔 Sometimes I wish I could live in his dream too

Escapism is a refuge for the weary soul, a sanctuary where reality melts away. 

You, more than anyone else on the Express, understand how much we sometimes just want to escape the cruel reality and dissolve into dreams of a better world. That's why, back on Penacony, something in you resonated with Sunday's words.

That incomprehensible promise of paradise he dreamed of so much and sought so desperately.

But no matter how good his intentions may have been, their realization was not… Healthy. Not at all. Trapping everyone in a big, perfect dream with no choice was wrong, you knew that. Even if it was what your heart desperately wanted - a chance to escape reality.

Sunday was mentally crushed after all his dreams of a perfect future without pain and suffering were shattered. It had undermined his whole motivation, his whole purpose in life so much, that he was ready to be destroyed along with those dreams.

Waking up was the hardest part.

"Is there still a paradise?" he whispered, looking out the window at the star-studded canvas of space. "Or is there no place for wounded souls to rest?"

Sunday shifted his gaze to you, his eyes — shining pools of gold filled with endless sadness for everyone lost and abandoned in their pain. Something you've never seen in anyone else. Since he joined the Express, you've talked a lot, sometimes spending nights with a cup of tea away from prying eyes and ears. Underneath the leader's facade was a vulnerable, sensitive soul that was gradually revealing itself to you.

"I don't think this paradise exists," you replied quietly. "But… Even if it doesn't exist, if it can't be built for all who suffer, people are capable of creating safe havens for each other. Even in the most desperate times, people can create their own paradise. Small and fragile, but still."

It was a painful truth that you had to face, just like him. The way this world works, you can't just run away and hide forever. Locking everyone in a golden cage isn't the answer, too. Grief and joy go hand in hand. Without one, the other is meaningless.

He stared at you in silence for a while, trying to comprehend the depth of your words.

"You sound just like my sister," a bitter smile appeared on his lips and Sunday lowered his gaze. "In a good way."

For a while there was a comfortable silence between you, broken only by the hum of the Express' engines and Mart's loud laughter somewhere in the distance. Of course, it's hard to change your worldview at the snap of a finger, it really is, but Sunday tried. For his sister's sake, for the future, for… you.

"I understand how you feel," you said again. "I feel it too. The desire to find relief from suffering. But, Sunday…" you turned to him, and he tilted his head slightly, listening. "This world is complicated. Sometimes cruel, sometimes beautiful. Everyone has their own path, sometimes paved with suffering, and… Here at the Express, we can help those in need. And bring happiness back to them. Without forcing into anything. Without sacrificing our own happiness to create eternal paradise."

“Do you think I still have a chance to bring something good into this world?” he asked.

You just nodded. Despite everything, his soul was still noble and pure. If his intentions were channeled in the right direction, Sunday could be a ray of hope in the darkness for many.

“Then…” he smiled, much softer this time, not taking his eyes off you. “Will you be ready to find a new path with me?”

Of course. You will.

please, do not rewrite/copy/repost/translate my work without me knowing, you can always ask first, thanks

[darlingdekarios]

until the stars leave.

RATING: m for canon themes — LENGTH: 4,782 — Rolan x Tav [reader]

CONTENT: hurt/comfort, set shortly after the final fight, fluff, somewhat unspoken admission of feelings, first kiss, cuddles because they both earned them, brief indecent thoughts

when the celebrations are through a harsh realization sets in - with your companions returning home or answering to their new purpose and the city in ruin, you are alone with no where to go. as you wander in the night, your mind recalls a certain sentiment that was extended.

Your heart had decided what it wanted before your mind had the chance to catch up, and your feet had carried you to the location you were drawn to - really, to the one place you felt was an option for you at the moment. At least, it was the safest and most comfortable option for you at a time like this, and the one you felt confident wouldn't turn you away.

Entering the main doors was hardly difficult - you'd picked up enough lock picking skills along the way to make quick work of the lock, slipping inside into the darkness around what walls and books remained and releasing a sigh of relief. The stairs you had to climb were familiar - a comfort in some way, at least.

What would happen when you stumbled through the portal? In all likelihood at this hour you'd enter the Tower to remain alone for several hours yet, until its new inhabitants woke for the new day. It didn't matter - you'd happily sleep amongst the books propped against the wall knowing you'd get through the night without any surprises.

But that wasn't quite fate's plan.

"Tav?"

Could his voice be considered a surprise when he was the Master of the Tower you'd snuck into? Could it be considering sneaking when you technically had an invitation - albeit not one specifically for tonight?

"Oh, hells," fell from your lips in surprise nonetheless, scrambling backward and into a stack of books until you fell flat on your ass. Your face burned as your mind wrapped itself around the situation, huffing out a deep breath as you fought your way on pained bones and muscles to your feet again.

"What are you doing here?" he questioned, rising from where he sat atop a throne made of books to walk closer to you, meeting you where the ceiling allowed the moon to illuminate the two of you. "Is everything alright?"

"Everything's…fine," you breathed out again, reaching upward to remove your headwear and view him completely unobstructed. Your stomach fluttered at the sight of him - the bruises from Lorroakan had faded more since you'd seen him in-person last, something that brought a light smile to your face. It was easier to focus on the freckles that decorated his skin when you weren't distracted by hatred for his former "teacher." “Cal said I had a room here…anytime. And well, I don't quite think he meant at this hour but…”

“Of course you do, there's no question about that in the slightest," his expression was still perplexed, eyebrows furrowed together with one slightly raised as he continued to await any answer you were willing to provide.

Not that you'd intended it, but his careful - and clearly caring - scrutiny made your eyes start to water, one of your shaking hands quickly lifting to wipe away a tear just as it fell. Your voice was meek but you tried to maintain the level of sass and confidence he was used to hearing from you - as you spoke, you were certain it was hardly a convincing performance.

"Only if you don't mind, Master of Ramazith Tower."

He tried to smile his signature grin but his mind focused too hard on you using such a title for him, his cheeks burning several shades of red darker. He cleared his throat and averted his gaze quickly to re-center himself, though it was probably a laughable effort.

"Are you alright?" his voice was just as gentle as you'd needed it to be, your appreciation growing with each word. "You don't even look like you've been healed an-"

“I am…alone. My family is scattered to return to their lives and I'm…"

The words had slipped out before you could stop them, this level of vulnerability and amount of sharing with the Wizard Tiefling entirely new - territory much better explored with a clearer mind and healthier body. Inwardly you worried even that was too much emotion between the two of you for the type of relationship - if you could even call it that - the two of you had maintained up to now.

Another surprise for the night - his eyes were only incredibly understanding as he shakes his head in your direction, dispelling your feelings in the politest way possible.

“You're not alone. Obviously."

There was that agitation in his voice you knew had nothing to do with you. Rolan, complicated man as he was and growing more so by the day it seemed, was not one to share his feelings, few exceptions being made throughout his hardened life. But the truth was undeniable in that single word - four syllables that told you everything you needed to feel more at peace tonight in knowing you were wrong.

You have me.

It was silent - it was all you needed.

Your lip began to quiver again as another tear fell, but this time it was his hand raising to catch it on your cheek, his hands soft and warm and delicate in all the ways you'd dreamed they would be…far more times you were willing to admit. He hadn't thought about the movement before it was carried out, yet he couldn't bring himself to regret it, savoring the way your head seemed to lean toward his touch more.

When was the last time you'd been touched in comfort…in need? Had it been just as long as it had for him? He found it was hard to pull his hand away from the softness your cheek presented beneath his thumb.

“You’ve been through quite a lot recently,” he removed his hand as he spoke again and you immediately wished he'd return it, that you could continue to memorize the feeling. You focused your attention instead on his eyes, falling even harder as you gazed into his eyes. You found only honesty met you in those yellow flames. “You’ve always been here for us…for me. My home - and everything in it - is yours. For as long as you need it."

"I didn't help you to be owed a favor," you reminded, always the one to ensure everyone around you knew they owed you nothing. "Thank you."

"Only you could just save the world and feel you're not owed anything," there was a subtle laugh to his voice that you were happy to hear - that you were certain you'd never been gifted with before and eager to hear much more in the future. "When's the last time you ate?"

Just the word made your stomach growl - it'd been a while, that much was clear.

"We donated our leftover supplies," your answer was hardly a real answer and yet that told him exactly what he needed to know - whatever the truth was it was completely unsatisfactory. He sighed in response, shaking his head slightly as he reached upward to pinch the bridge of his nose briefly in frustration - it only meant he cared.

"Unsurprising," he breathed out, returning his gaze to yours again when he removed his hand from his face. His tone offered no chance of argument. "I'll show you to a bath, and I'll find something for you to eat and wear while you're in-"

His tone offered no chance of argument, yes - but that still wouldn't stop you from trying.

"I'd be okay not eating. You don't need to go out of your way."

His eyes narrowed and he shook his head again, though you could see the hints of amusement at your usual heroic antics flickering in his eyes. You'd starve if it meant you didn't inconvenience someone else. He was hardly going to let that happen, and he was more than willing to repeat himself to you after the interruption - but likely only just the once.

"I'll show you to a bath, and then I'll find something for you to wear and something for you to eat," his tone was more assertive now, dominant - you couldn't deny the way it made your mouth go slightly dry and your palms sweat. "Take your boots off at least, I can't have you tracking…whatever it is on them all over the Tower."

You nodded in agreement knowing he wouldn't agree to anything else now that his mind was made up, beginning to lower yourself down to the ground. Your weary bones were struggling from fatigue and you ended up falling into a heap on the floor instead. He was quick to follow you, dropping to his knees at a speed you knew would result in a bruise, one of his arms coming out to support you.

You thanked him by looking at him like he'd answered a prayer, an expression he'd refer back to frequently. For now, however, he was too focused on your condition to fully appreciate the sweet moment for as long as it deserved.

"Gods," he spat, clearly not in your direction whatsoever - as if he could ever truly feel that anger at you. "I suppose none of your friends could perform healing."

"It seemed selfish to ask at a time like-"

"Just…stop," he sighed out again, waving his free hand in the air to dismiss your piss poor explanation - unwilling to hear the excuse he knew was reasonable and yet didn't bring him comfort. "There is such a thing as being too heroic. I hope the next time you're faced with saving the world you remember that."

"I hope there isn't a next time."

The confession came fast and took him by surprise - he offered an understanding nod and the briefest rub to your lower back where he still held you. He began to remove your armor, gently pushing your hands away when you tried to help. Any amount of relaxation he could offer you now he would without being asked, if he knew it was acceptable.

"Why are you awake at this hour, anyway?"

Your voice was soft and much less upset as you just watched him care for you, trying to navigate the conversation away from yourself. His eyes flickered up into yours again as he worked the laces on your sides free, fingers brushing over the thin fabric covering your sides gently.

You were touch starved and it was hard to ignore - in the way that every cell in your brain was screaming with the desire to hold his hand. You were hopeful the conversation could distract you before you made your desires known.

"I have a lot on my mind," he confessed, placing what had covered your torso to the side. You could see the conflict in his eyes returning and growing, whatever his mind had trailed to as he came up with an answer disturbing the peace that had fallen over the two of you. "I'd like things to be normal for a long time, whatever normal looks like now, but…"

It was your turn to nod in understanding as he removed your gauntlets, fingers lightly brushing against your arm as the skin was exposed. Goosebumps raised where his fingers touched, a fact that he didn't miss. He wondered briefly if it was the reaction he'd get from any part of your body he touched.

"But? Something else worth sharing?"

He had to lie…

"I'm afraid not."

But unfortunately he wasn't very good at it.

"If it's from your mind, it's worth sharing."

Such a compliment took him off guard momentarily, his eyes widening with genuine surprise as he allowed them to soak in, hoping he'd remember how that sentence sounded from your lips forever. It was impossible to lie when faced with the weakness of his intellect being appreciated, especially when it was by you.

"I worried it would be a long time before I got to see you again."

With his confession of the truth both of your faces heated up - his face turning shades of red that only seemed to make him glow. It made both of you feel silly, this giddiness which neither of you were particularly good at hiding at the moment. He helped you to your feet again as you made a mental note of the subtle flick to the tip of his tail.

Being a little bashful wouldn't stop you from flirting with him altogether. It was far too tempting to tease him just a little more.

"So that's what keeps the Wizard of Ramazith's Tower awake at night," your tone was light and playful and he was thankful you were able to diffuse the tension with your personality. He wasn't certain if his efforts to flirt had ever been even remotely successful in the past with others, but he was becoming increasingly hopeful they might work with you.

"It's what was keeping me awake tonight. Who's to say what tomorrow will bring?"

Your eyes flashed with surprise that Rolan was capable of flirting in such a way and found you could only smile, his heart fluttering at the sight. Behind him his tail twitched again, and he quickly moved to ensure you weren't catching onto the quirk. An arm gently slipped around your waist as he began to lead you to the bathroom where the promise of a relaxing bath waited for you. On the way, you still wanted to fill the silence.

"Are you going to tell Cal and Lia?" you questioned, realizing quickly you needed to clarify. Forming a concise question proved to be difficult when you were becoming intoxicated by the smell of him that was flooding your senses at this proximity. "That I'm here."

"Of course I am, but in the morning. Tonight you need to rest."

You nodded in agreement and remained at his mercy as you made your way to the destination he'd chosen for you. The bathtub filled before your eyes with a simple wave of his hand, a smug expression forming on his face as you looked on in wonder despite all you had seen in the recent weeks. Reaching for a shelf he walked beside the tub to empty several vials of herbs, once again waving his hand so some of the candles decorating the room flickered to life.

When he turned to face you he realized all that was left was for you to remove the rest of your clothes…the thought alone returned the blush to his face. This time, however, it was joined by several beads of sweat breaking out across his brow, his hand raising to rub the back of his neck as he nervously cleared his throat.

"I'll find you some clothes," he announced, trying to maintain the composure in his voice. "And food."

And like that he was gone, disappearing in a flash to remove himself from any further opportunity of indecent thought.

The bath alone did you wonders in returning your body to a somewhat lucid state, though you still stumbled when you raised yourself from the relaxing waters. A simple robe in a shade of blue he so regularly wore awaited you on the vanity, which you dressed into slowly to ensure you didn't have any accidents.

It felt odd to dress for the day and not cover yourself in as much powerful armor as possible - even odder not to grab a weapon. You were thankful for the oddity.

An illusionary duplicate of himself waited outside the bathroom door to direct you to your next location - you weren't surprised at all to find Rolan hadn't bothered with giving it much of a script beyond what was necessary. Still, you found your mind focused on all the power he was displaying - Rolan became more impressive by the day, more powerful and capable of caring for himself and his family.

How very lucky Cal and Lia were to have someone in their lives like him.

You found him in the kitchen, amused at the flustered expression on his face as he plated whatever he'd whipped together - for the two of you it seemed, judging by the matching plates in front of him. With a pop his mirror image disappeared and Rolan's head lifted to meet your gaze, both of you smiling just at being reunited again, though it'd hardly been long since you separated.

(In fact, this would become a trend for the two of you very soon - minutes would feel like hours, hours like days, days like eternity until soon you'd find being apart at all was unbearable. When that day came for the both of you, you would hardly be far from his side again.)

He'd made a simple meal for you - something he somewhat bashfully admitted he used to make for Cal and Lia when the three of them were growing up. As you ate together in comfortable silence you decided it was the best meal you'd ever been made, and one you would ask for again whenever you needed an excuse to see Rolan.

Not that you truly needed an excuse.

Thankfully, it was still dark when it was time to retire to bed for the night, something you were already hoping you could manage despite everything that was still on your mind. As he escorted you to the room you'd sleep in he offered a quick explanation knowing there was an argument to be had when he'd finished.

"You'll sleep in my room tonight, and I'll take the spare bed in Cal's room," his words were coming quick in the hopes that your exhausted mind would have trouble keeping up with them, intentions pure as he hoped you would just allow him to extend this kindness. "Tomorrow we'll be sure one of the other rooms is furnished to your liking."

"You don't need to go to all of this trouble for me."

The genuine offense that passed his features at your phrase was chased quickly by annoyance, his eyes narrowing again as he imparted his next words onto you.

"You've gone through far more for me. Please."

He opened the door and motioned you inside fluidly, following after you to light the fireplace with the wave of his hand, providing more light to the dark room. Even in the dim environment you could see his bed looked oh-so-inviting…despite the books that littered the top of it. Realizing the mess he rushed forward to begin moving them, shooting you a grateful look when you joined. A gentle brush of your hands together as you both reached for the last book caught both of you off-guard, his movements entirely freezing at the feeling of your skin against his again.

In the privacy of his bedroom, there was something about the touch that just felt more meaningful than anything that had come before it.

"Sorry about the mess," he quickly filled the silence with an apology before he got too lost in your hopeful eyes, before he thought too long on how exhausted you must be after everything. "You should be plenty comfortable here for the night."

You nodded in agreement and climbed into the bed, quietly moving to the opposite side and finding comfort in the first position you found yourself in. Taking in a deep breath you continued to gaze up at him, mind running through a million options as to what to do now and hoping he could see your desire written in your eyes.

Instead, he took a step back as if to leave.

"I'll see you later this afternoon, I hope, after you've gotten plenty of rest," his voice was quieter as he was conscious of you entering a relaxed state, truly hopeful it wouldn't be long before you were asleep. "Goodnight."

But as sweet as it was, it wasn't what you wanted.

"Wait," you called, reaching out to grab at his arm before he was too far away. He turned to look over his shoulder, a puzzled look on his features bringing a small smile to your own. A smile - a genuine smile. How very good it felt to do so without guilt again. "Stay…please? It's just…quiet. So quiet in my mind since the parasite is gone. I don't like feeling so…alone."

Thankfully, he'd never make you beg. He simply nodded and rubbed the back of his neck, breathing out deeply as he mentally talked himself into remaining calm - sleeping in a bed together was hardly something to get all worked up over.

"I suppose I will sleep much better knowing you are."

For as nervous as he now felt, he was thankful he was still managing to form coherent and articulate sentences. He was still living through the embarrassment of tripping over his words in front of you the first time you'd met.

"Then please.""

Eager to ensure you didn't have to repeat the plea again he only gave in to your desire, climbing into the bed next to you and trying not to feel overwhelmed by your scent flooding his senses. He stayed on his back for a moment deciding it was for the best as he decided exactly what he wanted to do - what the best way to continue the night was.

What didn't take much thought was the feeling that crackled in the air around the two of you, an undeniable mutual want drawing the two of you nearer. And yet, neither of you knew how to seize the moment that was presented to you, new worries taking root in your minds.

He was so thankful when you were the one to break the eilsnce.

"You said you worried it would be a long time since you saw me again."

"Yes, I did."

"Why did that worry you?"

"I suppose…"

His response trailed off as he elected to consider his words carefully, taking a moment to form them in his brain to ensure they were exactly what he wanted. No words - even magical ones - would ever be enough, and even if they were he was hardly the type of man willing to express them.

But for you? He'd do whatever h could manage.

"I suppose I am quite fond of you," he breathed out, admitting to himself inwardly that it did feel good to finally admit it aloud. "Though I find your heroics insufferable and wish desperately that you could practice a little more selfishnesses quite a bit more often, I…enjoy your company. I did not want to go long without it."

He was certain he'd chosen the right words when his eyes found your face again, greeted with the sight of complete and utter adoration. It had been a long time since someone had looked at him this way - it was instantly a sight he wanted to see forever.

"I was selfish…after the battle," you explained, biting at your lip nervously - a habit he found quite cute, no matter how many times he'd reprimand you in the future for it. "Everyone offered me a place beside them. I could be helping in so many places - I had so many choices."

He waited for you to continue your story, understanding that something like this may take extra time. If there was anyone that deserves it, it was you.

"I chose to stay in Baldur's Gate."

He could feel that you were burning beside him - your temperature had easily spiked. Were you embarrassed at such a confession? He hardly thought admitting to stay in the city warranted such a fuss, though he also wasn't going to be one to shut you down.

"No doubt you'll be detrimental to the city's rebuilding efforts."

"I intend to be, but that's not why I chose to stay," you offered a light smile and released a shaky breath before you continued with your confession to him, glad you could get it out now and that the suit hadn't died alongside you. "I chose to stay…for you, Rolan. To be near you. I wasn't ready to…to move on."

The realization washed over his face like a wave and he was very aware that he was burning now, unable to stop the smile that spread across his features - or the fact that he'd been moving closer throughout the lunch.

"It seems my worries were matched by your own."

He was mocking you playfully, in a way that only he was truly capable of. You adored when he was in a mood like this. If he was in the mood to flirt, you were more than happy to oblige.

"I'd love to not worry myself over you someday, Rolan."

"And I you," he agreed with a nod, his handsome smile still covering his features. It was lighthearted and peaceful yet serious and intense - you'd happily go mad trying to understand all the different sides to him. "Do you think that day will come?"

"Perhaps if we watch one another," you offered, knowing you had no intent of removing yourself from his side anytime soon if no one forced it. "Every day, to be safe."

Slow movement caught your vision from the corner of your eye as one of his hands reached up to cup your face in one hand, cutting what the conversation could've blossomed into short. Your joking expression melted away into serenity once again masked with bashfulness. You were nervous at what his next move was - you bit at your bottom lip to prove it. He adored seeing you behave so…smitten?…for him and couldn't resist the opportunity for more.

"I am so glad you are here," he breathed out deeply, unwilling to mask his thoughts from you anymore, feeling already that he'd wasted enough time. "That you chose this. That your decisions lead you here, to me. I wouldn't trade this moment for anything."

Your own hand joined his, laying atop his as your eyes fluttered shut. You held his hand against your face as you moved closer, propping yourself up on one elbow. When you were certain you'd be greeted with the exact sight you wanted you opened your eyes, taking in the sight of him gazing up at you patiently, waiting for whatever word you'd offer him next.

"You're quite a prize for saving the world.""

"And I haven't even thanked you properly," his thumb brushed across your bottom lip slowly, his hand then slipping to the back of your head to pull you downward, closer to him. Your faces were mere inches apart, the anticipation of a kiss waiting to be claimed growing by the second. "May I?"

It was a quick nod you offered that was barely finished before he was claiming your lips in his own. It was the sweetest, most delicate and heartfelt kiss you'd been given in your life thus far, all-consuming and addicting immediately. You pressed closer to him as you lost yourself in the kiss, singularly focused on how perfectly his lips moved with yours to the point his tail winding around one of your legs went fairly unnoticed.

The two of you only pulled away from air, both of you immediately breaking into a small fit of giggles, nuzzling your noses together in pure joy. As you laid your heads back down on the edges of your pillows so you could remain close you gazed upon one another with an adoration that could go unspoken for now - your shared devotion was perfectly clear. Your hands found each other between your bodies and he placed his atop yours in silence, enjoying the first true peaceful moment in so long for a moment, reminding himself it wasn't selfish to stop and appreciate you - particularly at this hour.

His tail released your leg to drape over your waist instead, pushing you closer to his form until you were burying your face in his neck. The warmth and his scent combined with how one of his arms also wrapped around you gently was lulling you to sleep before you'd even found the perfect position. Though really, any position with Rolan would be perfect in your mind.

"Goodnight, sweet hero."

You were already asleep, his hopeful sentence gone unheard by yours ears as the exhaustion finally overtook you and you succumbed to the comfort of resting beside him. Waving an arcane lock toward the door to ensure the two of you would go uninterrupted for as long as he could keep you in the bed.

The world and all its troubles could be forgotten awhile while the two of you found tranquility in your shared solitude - and neither of you would have it any other way.

masterlist. baldur's gate III masterlist.

[incognit0slut]

Right Kind of Wrong (17)

She never thought she’d be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: Spencer and Y/n try to outsmart the situation. wc: 3.5k Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content, graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide, mentions of SA A/n: this took longer because trying to come up with a climax scene was SO hard, I hope I did some justice here

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16

HER BODY ACHED. Every muscle seemed to join a protest, sending out persistent signals of pain. The cold air seemed to snake through her limbs, and the chains that bound her wrist seemed to cut into her flesh. The bed underneath didn't do much to ease things—it was as stiff as a board, offering about as much comfort as the floor.

She wasn’t sure how long she had been here. It was likely no more than a week, but it felt like months. Maybe hunger messed with her head, making everything feel fuzzy. The lack of nutrition had her feeling delirious. For someone who claimed to be in love with her, Eric showed no mercy for her well-being.

Of course, he didn't, she thought, because there was no love in the first place, no genuine care, no honest affection—just an illusion crafted by his distorted mind.

Her eyes drifted shut, and a sigh escaped her lips. The air in the barn was thick, almost suffocating, with its heavy, musty scent. It offered no peace for her tonight—or was it already early morning? The darkness seemed to stretch endlessly, blurring the line between night and dawn.

But something felt different.

The atmosphere shifted abruptly, a quiet change that quickened her heart. The unmistakable sound of a vehicle reached her ears before it abruptly stopped on the other side of the wall. A car door creaked open, accompanied by distant voices. Then came the purposeful footsteps, growing louder with each step as they approached her.

The barn door groaned in protest, creaking open slowly, letting in a thin ray of dim light. Her breath caught as Eric stepped in. Yet, it wasn't his presence that shocked her; it was the man he dragged along, someone she least expected to see.

Her eyes widened. Spencer?

He was here. He was really here, right in the flesh, making it harder for her to breathe. Because he looked worlds apart from the last time she saw him—his shirt dirty, bruises marking his face, clear signs of whatever ordeal he'd been through. It also seemed like he hadn't slept for days. His eyes appeared hollow and vacant, yet as they met hers, she noticed a glimmer of relief.

Tears welled up in her eyes. All she wanted was to run into his arms, find comfort in his embrace, and let out the tears for everything that had gone wrong. But she couldn't do anything when she was bound with chains while his hands were tied behind his back. And as glad as she was to see him, it registered her to why he was even here. Anger suddenly flared through her body as she leveled her gaze on Eric with a glare.

"What the hell are you doing?"

He pushed Spencer forward, forcing him to stumble, landing him on his knees. "A little present for you," Eric taunted. "Aren't you glad to see him?"

Spencer looked at her with concern, his eyes slowly assessing every inch of body. His stomach churned when he took in how fragile she looked. She seemed so weak, so helpless, being held captive with those repulsive chains binding her wrist.

“Are you…” he muttered, his voice barely a whisper. “Are you okay?”

It was a dumb question. Of course she was far from being fine. But he had to say it, he needed to interact with her to make sure she understood how much it pained to see her like this.

But before she could respond to him, Eric noticed the interaction and pulled out a knife. Her heart pounded in her chest as she watched him circle Spencer, the glint of the blade caught in the dim light, sending a chill through the air.

The cold steel of the knife traced sinister patterns in the air, and she couldn't tear her eyes away from the dangerous dance. "What do you want?" she demanded, her voice shaking but defiant. "Let him go. This has nothing to do with him."

Eric chuckled and shook his head. "Oh, but it does. He's hurt you, and I need to do something about it."

"Eric, please," she pleaded. "You don't need to do this."

He ignored her pleas and narrowed his eyes on Spencer. "What do you think, Dr. Reid? Should I let you go? Let you free while I'm left alone with her, doing anything that I please." Spencer glared at him and Eric's smile grew wider. "That's what I thought."

He started pacing between them again, casually playing with the knife in his hands. "You know, I usually kill my victims before I write anything on their bodies, but tonight I'm making an exception." His eyes glazed over to her. "I think it'll be fun to do the other way around."

The ominous threat hung heavy in the air, and her heart pounded wildly in her chest. Spencer's eyes flashed with defiance, though his bound hands limited his ability to physically intervene. She locked eyes with him. They both knew the odds were stacked against them.

“You don't have to do this,” she begged once more, desperation lacing her voice.

"But I do Sweetheart, I really do." He focused his attention back on Spencer. "Now, what do you reckon I should choose for you, Dr. Reid?"

Eric continued to circle, a predator reveling in the vulnerability of his prey. "What do you think of Proverbs 11:21?” He spread his hands out as if he was imagining the words were written in the sky. “'Be sure of this: The wicked will not go unpunished, but those who are righteous will go free'."

When he was met with silence, he approached Spencer with a menacing glint in his eye. "No? How about Proverbs 21:15 then? 'When justice is done, it brings joy to the righteous but terror to evildoers.'"

Spencer finally looked up and retorted, "Justice isn't about inflicting pain for the sake of satisfaction."

Eric glared back with a sadistic resolve. "The only way to cleanse the evil here is through suffering. Proverbs speaks the truth, whether you like it or not."

At that moment, Spencer's mind suddenly shifted gears, deciding to try a different approach. His narrowed eyes showed he was honing in, not just reacting but strategizing. He was about to do what he did best—understand people, especially those on the brink. Instead of just reacting to the danger, he aimed to get inside Eric's head. He wanted to observe Eric with an intensity that went beyond the immediate threat.

"You're a smart man, Eric,” he started, his tone measured and analytical. “I can see that you've been through a lot, maybe more than most. I don't think this is about justice anymore.”

He noticed Eric stopping from his casual pace around the narrowed space, and Spencer continued. “It seems like you want to reverse the roles. To be the one inflicting pain instead of receiving it."

Eric, though still wearing a facade of defiance, couldn't completely mask the flicker of unease that danced in his eyes. Spencer's words seemed to hit a nerve.

"What do you even know about my past?" He retorted, a hint of vulnerability seeping into his voice.

Spencer, maintaining his calm and analytical demeanor, continued his probing. "I don't need to know the specifics to recognize the signs. People who inflict pain are often trying to regain control over a part of their lives where they feel helpless."

Eric's grip on the knife tightened, his jaw clenching. "You're making assumptions, Dr. Reid. You don't know anything about what I've been through.”

Spencer met his gaze evenly. "I actually do, Eric," He paused, letting the words linger in the air. "Or should I call you Henry?"

The name hung in the air, a heavy silence enveloping the barn. Y/n’s eyes darted between the two men, her confusion mirrored in the furrow of her brow. Henry? His real name was Henry?

"Henry Wyatt," Spencer continued. "Troubled childhood, juvenile records. You changed your name and tried to leave the past behind."

There was a moment of silence as if Eric was weighing his next words. "I no longer associate with that name," he finally insisted, the defiance in his voice trying to mask the vulnerability that lingered beneath the surface.

"I don't think so,” Spencer remarked. “You're still him despite having a different life now. Your current action shows how you're still bound by the past."

Eric vehemently shook his head. "No."

"Your attempt to leave it behind is what brought us here."

"No," Eric shot back, frustration lacing his voice. “You’re wrong.”

"Your sense of betrayal is the root of your actions," He pressed. "Are you deeply hurt by Oliver that you seek revenge this far?"

A growl rumbled in Eric's throat, the grip on the knife tightening. "You have no right to bring that up," he spat out.

"I do, because I want you to realize that your need for revenge is a sign of weakness," Spencer continued with a calculated intensity, his words aimed at striking a nerve. "Not strength."

Eric shot a fierce glare at Spencer as his frustration reached a crescendo. "You know nothing about me. Don't pretend to understand."

"I do understand that inflicting pain won't change anything." His words hung in the air, a challenge that dared Eric to confront the truth.

The subtle tremors of Eric's clenched fists betrayed the storm within him. The knife, once held with purpose, now seemed almost precarious in his grip. Spencer's next move was strategic, pressing on despite the mounting tension. "Romans 12:21—Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good."

Eric's anger boiled over. "Stop talking."

But Spencer saw an opening and seized it. "Hurting others won't bring you the closure you seek."

"I said," Eric snarled, his patience wearing thin. "Stop. Talking."

"Ask yourself, Henry," Spencer goaded, deliberately emphasizing the name. "Is this really about justice, or is it about masking the pain you refuse to confront?"

"Fucking shut up!"

Eric's outburst reverberated through the barn as he grabbed onto the only source of lighting, an old lamp sitting on a nearby crate. He smashed it onto the floor towards Spencer, the crash of the lamp echoing like a gunshot.

Fragments of glass sprayed across the floor, some landing dangerously close to his knees as the room dimmed further, the broken lamp's feeble glow casting eerie shadows on the walls.

"You thought you could defy me?" Eric seethed, his voice low and menacing, closing the gap between them. "You're fucking wrong."

With a sudden, swift motion, Eric brought the knife dangerously close to Spencer's face. Y/n’s mind raced. She couldn't let Spencer get hurt. She had to do something, anything, to protect him.

"S-Stop!" she stammered, trying to intervene. The chains rattled as she tried to move. But Eric kept going, and she tried again with a desperate plea.

“Eric! Look at me! Please!” She begged. “I-I'll do anything!"

There was a slight halt in his steps. "What?" Eric paused.

"What are you doing?" Spencer's voice filled the air. 

She glanced over to him, prepared to see the panic in his eyes. But despite the concern in his voice, he responded to her gaze with a silent plea, as if urging her to keep going.

He was onto something; she was sure of it, even if she wasn't sure of whatever plan he had in mind. She could tell by the slight shift in his demeanor before he quickly looked away. She sent him an understanding nod and redirected her attention to Eric, who was slowly turning toward her, oblivious of their interaction.

"I-I'll do anything you want," she repeated her words. 

A sinister smile played on Eric's lips. "Really? Anything?" he taunted, a cruel glint in his eyes as he considered her offer.

"Yes, just—please, let him go.”

Eric's gaze shifted between her and Spencer, contemplating the power he held at that moment. "You'll do anything to save him?"

Her nod was hesitant but determined. 

Eric's eyes gleamed with a malicious delight as he absorbed her desperation. "Anything, you say? That's quite a tempting offer."

"Just tell me what you want," she pressed, her voice quivering. "I'll do it, but you let him go. He doesn't need to be a part of this."

A wicked grin etched itself on his face. "Oh, it's not that simple, Sweetheart. You see, actions speak louder than words. I need a demonstration of your commitment."

Her mind raced, searching for a way to navigate through the situation. "Tell me what you want me to do," she pleaded, her eyes pleading for mercy.

He bent down and picked a shard of glass from the broken lamp scattered on the floor before throwing it to her feet.

"First, you're going to have to convince me that you're willing to endure pain for his sake." Eric gestured toward Spencer with the knife. "Hurt yourself, and maybe, maybe, I'll consider releasing him."

A chill ran down her spine as she comprehended his twisted demand. She shot a quick glance at Spencer. He met her eyes with a subtle nod, indicating that he was ready to seize the opportunity when it presented itself.

As Eric watched her, a maniacal excitement burning in his eyes, she knew she had to play along, at least for now. With trembling hands, she reached for the shard of glass, but she hesitated for a moment.

"Come on," Eric urged, the sadistic anticipation evident in his voice. "Prove your devotion."

Summoning every ounce of courage, she finally pressed the glass against her palm, wincing as it broke the skin. A suppressed gasp escaped her lips, but she fought to maintain a facade of resolve. 

"Now, that's dedication," Eric mused, enjoying the spectacle of her distress. "But we're not done yet. I want more."

She fought back the nausea, the pain in her skin throbbing with each heartbeat. With a deep breath, she tightened her grip on the glass shard, her hands trembling as she looked up at Eric.

"What more do you want?" she demanded, desperation still present in her voice.

His eyes glinted with sadistic pleasure. "Cut deeper. Prove to me that you're willing to sacrifice for him."

Spencer's eyes widened in silent horror, but she shot him a reassuring glance. The shard pressed against her skin once again, but this time, she hesitated. The internal struggle was evident on her face.

"Do it!" Eric barked, reveling in his perceived triumph.

With a swift motion, she sliced the glass across her skin again, the pain intensifying. A muffled cry escaped her lips as she felt warmth seeping through her fingers. 

"That's more like it," Eric praised, his eyes gleaming with madness. "Now, drop the glass."

She complied, releasing the shard to the floor with a gasp, her eyes never leaving Eric's. The room felt heavy with tension as he considered his next move.

"Now tell me you regret nothing, that you'd do it all over again for him," Eric demanded, the twisted satisfaction evident in his tone.

In a desperate attempt to stall him and buy time, she played into his game. "I regret nothing," she forced the words out, her voice steady despite the pain and fear. "I'd do anything for him."

Eric's triumphant grin faltered for a moment as if he expected her to break. But then, a cruel glint returned to his eyes. "Well, well, well. Seems like we have a devoted lover here.” A chuckle followed through. “But the night is still young."

A chilling silence took place as Eric continued to stare at her, his eyes traveling the line of blood dripping down her skin. His gaze traveled upwards to her shaking body before it settled on her pleading gaze. A sinister smile took hold of his face and she shivered at the sight.

"You know," he began, taking a step forward. "You look rather tempting covered in blood."

Her skin crawled at his words, and she fought to maintain a façade of compliance. The barn seemed to shrink around her as Eric advanced, his eyes fixated on her like a predator closing in on its prey. 

"Look at you, all frightened and desperate." Eric continued, walking closer to her. "I'd say you're quite adorable now."

Every step he took sent a chill down her spine. Eric's sinister smile widened as he reveled in her discomfort. "You thought you could outsmart me, didn't you?" he sneered. "But here we are, and you're at my mercy."

In response, she swallowed her fear and shot back, "Your twisted games won't break me. I-I won't let you win."

His laughter echoed through the barn, a haunting sound that seemed to reverberate within the walls. "Oh, I'm afraid you've already lost, Sweetheart."

Her stomach dropped when she saw him unbuckling his belt with his free hand, the sound of its clinking metal echoed through the suffocating silence. Fear gripped her as Eric's intentions became painfully clear. She struggled against her restraints, her mind racing for a way out of this nightmare. "Y-You promised to let him go," she pleaded, her voice shaking.

"I said I'll consider releasing him," he corrected her. "And right now I'm considering giving him a show."

She felt a wave of nausea and revulsion. Fear clutched at her chest, threatening to overwhelm her. Every inch of her body ached, both from the physical torment and the psychological torture. The chains that bound her seemed tighter, cutting into her wrists.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He taunted. "You'd let me use you while he watches how good I can make you feel."

He unzipped his pants.

“How you’d be screaming my name,” he grinned. “Secretly begging for more.”

His looming figure cast a shadow over her, his attention remained fixated on her. He was too focused on her that he didn't notice Spencer's stealthy movement behind him, and just as she braced herself for the worst, the unexpected happened.

"What do you think, Spencer? Let me—"

A sudden shot echoed in the room. The deafening sound rang through the barn, causing a momentary freeze in the air. Her eyes widened, pupils dilating in shock, as she watched a dark stain spread across Eric's shirt before he crumpled to the ground.

The gunshot rang in her ears and she blinked her eyes, trying to focus her attention on her surroundings. Then Spencer took over her line of sight, sitting on the floor with one leg stretched out. The time she had bid managed to help him escape from his restraints. 

Her gaze then shifted to the subtle holster snug in his sock, revealing the hidden firearm he was carrying all along. Her eyes met his, his expression a blend of exhaustion and concern, and a heavy breath escaped him as he slowly lowered the gun.

Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision. The weight of the situation hung in the air, and she couldn't find words to express the whirlwind of emotions coursing through her. The fear, the desperation, the relief—they were all tangled together. It was like a tornado had torn through, leaving her standing in the aftermath.

Spencer moved on instinct. Without saying a word, he stumbled towards her, sinking right on the mattress as he reached for her face. His hands were warm against her cold cheeks, and his eyes held a depth of regret as she stared into them. 

"I'm sorry," was the first thing he said as he held her gaze. When the first cry escaped her lips, a raw and unfiltered release of the pent-up anguish, he pulled her into his arms without hesitation. Her wails echoed in the hollow space of the barn as he held her close and continued to utter his apology like a desperate prayer.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he choked, his voice sounding strained. "I'm so sorry."

Her sobs vibrated against his chest. She clung to him, her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt, her blood staining the material. The scent of hay and the earthy musk of the barn intertwined with the warmth of his presence.

"S-Spence.." she murmured, her voice a mere whisper.

"Shh, I've got you." Spencer continued to cradle her, his lips pressed gently against the top of her head. His fingers traced soothing circles on her back. "It's over. I'm right here."

Between her cries, she managed to nod, clinging to him as if her life depended on it. And maybe it did. She wasn't sure she could function properly without his presence. So she focused solely on him—the rise and fall of his chest, the soft beating of his heart against her cheek. She shut out everything around her, not even bothering to ask how the authorities knew their location when she heard a faint siren coming from the distance.

The sound of people entering the barn didn't even faze her moments later. Or the way someone came up to them, insisting the two for a medical check. Instead, she shook her head and tightened her grip, and Spencer reassured the medics they’d come to them in a while.

Time seemed to stop at that moment as she pressed herself further into his arms. The world outside could wait, but for now, all that mattered was him.

>> NEXT PART

a/n: his escape scene is kind of a nod to that truth and dare episode, idk i felt like putting it into the plot :D

.

taglist #1

@tereresrock @casthings @vader-is-hot @maevethelesbian @whereintheworldisspencerreid @reidverseq @niyahwhoreworld @l4venderia @theintrovertedthespian @lovelyxtom @tayzerr-72 @mulbsstuff @dorothleah @stevenknightmarc @prettyboyspenceee @gracesmusings @kalulakunundrum @fearlessmoony @r5court @simp4f1 @thecrazytealady @nyeddleblog @ghostheartbeat @comfortzonequeen @iiheartbowie @busy-buzzing @imtherealslimmoony @baeofevery @elamultistan @lyxennz @additi @donttrustlove @notahappystan @daisiesfor-mylove @pinkpantheris @jamieeboulos @thegeniusreider @bxtchopolis @kr-1-sta @emotionalsassqueen

@cowstealer427 @thollandsdarling @ghxst-heart @cashtons-wife @kyuupidwrites @you-sunshine @comboboo @sebastiansstanswhore @panic-monster @marimorena06 @alice-ace299 @uncle-eggy @bollzinurmouth @julezs-bl0g @ruhrohragu @eternally-passionate @kazuumii @spencerr3idd @withered-rxse @broken-pieces @siredtomsgilbert @kaiya3333 @furiousbanditnickelknight @pinkangelavenue @slay-and-gay @woahnotmecryingoverafanfiction @zeysartzone @frxcless @sadroses98 @luvmgg @sky2nd @jamiemuscatosslut @rorylover71 @comeonatmebruh

PLEASE READ: If you already asked me to be added but you're not on the list OR you want to be added in the future, please comment on this post so I can see it. But make sure your blog can be searched or I can't tag you. Or if you want to be removed you can also tell me. Thank you :)

Don’t forget to interact with the story!

[333sturns]

matt knew that you were a bit sensitive during intercourse, and because of that he would respect you and your boundaries.but today was different.you had purposely asked matt prior to not hold himself back this time. he had resisted almost everytime you asked always using the same excuse: “i dont wanna hurt you m’love.”“itll be too much.”but yet you ended up together with matt towering over you, one hand placed onto your clit and the other on your hip to keep you steady as he thrusted into you.you threw your head back in pleasurable pain, loving the feeling that he wasnt going in his usual slow pace as he used to. you let the painful whimpers slip from your lips as he kept going. “m—matt,”he rubbed his thumb harshly along the bulb of your clit, to quickly slipping his fingers inside you. still not stopping his thrusts as he did so. you squeezed your legs together in an attempt to push him away. your mind fogging up making you completely forget what you had said earlier.“legs apart.” he husks, thrusting harsher by the second. you cried out his name in sobs, your legs falling weak from tiredness. “too—much—“ he gave you a deep thrust in response. matts lips curling into a smile from your words. “this is what you wanted, so take it.”you were now close to your second orgasm of the night, your core tightening up as it grew deep inside you.“gonna cum!”“yeah? cum for me darling,”you were already overstimulated by your second orgasm. (This is what you wrote so far)

“SUNFLOWER”

requested by: @annoyingtacomentality

matt knew that you were a bit sensitive during intercourse, so, we would respect you and your boundaries.

but today was different.

you had purposely asked matt prior to the intercourse to not hold himself back this time. he had resisted about everytime youve asked him, using the same excuse:

“i dont wanna hurt you.”

“itll be too much.”

instead, he finally gave in.

“fuck it.”

and now you ended up having matt hovering over you while you lay beneath him. he stared hazily into your eyes as he had one had onto the bulb of your clit and his other hand onto your waist to keep you steady.

you felt the helpless whimpers fall from your lips in response, ones like never before. yet, you secretly loved how he wasnt holding himself back anymore.

“matt—“

he harshly rubbed his finger along your clit, to then quickly slipping his finger inside of you. still not stopping his thrusts as he did so.

you squeezed your legs together subconsciously to the feeling in attempt to push him away. “legs apart.” he husks, thrusting deeper in response to your pleads.

you cried out his name louder than ever, feeling the substance of your previous orgasms sticking to your legs. you let your legs fall to the bed from tiredness, watching through your lashes as he smirked down at you.

“c’mon baby, you can take it.”

you already felt your stomach building up towards your second orgasm the second you felt matt to gain back his rhythm.

the tears flooded your eyes; pooling down to your cheeks. you quickly felt the pleasure turn into pain. reaching out towards matts shoulder, you spoke soft but just loud enough for him to hear.

“sunflower,”

matt looked down at you, slowing down and stopping almost instantly at your words. of course matt wasnt going to just let himself run free even though you had asked him to,

so he made a safeword.

matts gaze softened at the site of you trembling and weeping underneath him. he slowly pulled out of you, smiling down at you in response to your whine of relief.

“too much yeah?” he starts.

your chest rose up with every heavy breath that you took. finally opening your eyes and being met with matt smiling down at you. you felt your cheeks flush in embarrassment.

“y-yeah.”

“no worries, cmere.”

he gently brushed the hair out of your face and lifted you up by your arms. taking you into your shared bathroom. he placed you down onto the toilet seat.

chuckling as he saw your submissive state. he threw you a towel to not get cold for the moment as the water began to warm up.

he let his fingers run through the water until it waw at a perfect temperature for you to bathe in.

“here, a bath just for you.”

you weakly made yourself to the bath. letting out a sigh of relief as you completely sat down.

“feels s’good.”

“i know baby.. will ya let me bathe you?”

“yeah.”

“alright, sunshine.”

✉️: @toooster @ifwdominicfike @lvrsturniolo @faith5drpepper @delilahsturniolo @lormyaaa @ilusa @zayluvss @marrykisskilled

©333sturns

[yandere--stuck]

"Rarity, can I please go home now?" You asked, voice strained.

Even if the pain in your voice wasn't obvious, it should have been just from looking at you - which Rarity had been for the past several hours! Your hearing was slightly muffled from how flat your ears were pressed against your skull. Occasionally, you'd weakly lift one hoof off the ground for momentary relief, praying that the other three wouldn't give out. If you weren't held up by obligation to your friend, you were sure you'd have slumped to the floor of the platform in exhaustion.

"Oh, but where would I be without my muse?" The mare whirled around from her sewing machine.

Biting back a sneer, you held back your frustration. Something about Rarity simply getting a new muse was held in your jaws like a steel trap. But, you couldn't do that. A heavy sigh heaved out through your snout.

Rarity was your friend. Someone who was always generous and loving toward you, as a good friend should be. It's only fair for you to give her just as much in return. Not only that, but she was an Element of Harmony and owner of two different boutiques. To say she had quite a bit of social standing now was an understatement. Not that you think she'd ever use that against you… No. Never. Not Rarity.

"I'm almost done, dearest, I assure you," the mare promised before turning to look outside. Complete darkness. Her eyes widened, a gasp escaping her. "Oh my, I completely lost track of time. My sincerest apologies, darling!"

A sigh escaped you, your irritation leaving with it. Of course, it wasn't intentional. Rarity would never do this on purpose. Accidents happen. And hay, it'd be over soon, right? With a smile and nod, you waved her off with a shaky foreleg.

"Don't worry about it," you assured. "I just need to get home soon."

"Oh… I don't think that'd be a good idea. It's far too dark out now, I'd feel awful having you leave on your own. How about you stay the night?"

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to impose…"

"Of course!" Rarity whinnied, trotting over to look up at you. "It's been some time since I've had a sleepover, and there's nopony I'd rather spend time with than my muse."

You watched as Rarity reached up for you, feeling the soft underside of her hoof cup the side of your face, gently stroking your fur. You couldn't help the smile and slight flush that rushed to your cheeks. Rarity always made you feel like a star, the most important pony in the room. And she was so comforting... You leaned into her touch and, just for a moment, allowed yourself to close your eyes...

You felt the world go off balance, wobbly legs giving out from under you as you went careening toward the floor. A cry of surprise escaped Rarity. The floor rushed up to you, nothing underneath you and legs too weak to catch your fall- oh, this was gonna smart!

But, suddenly, everything stilled, as if time itself stopped. Your vision was filtered through a blue hue. Darting your eyes around to get your bearings, you spotted the mare. Her face was twisted in concentration and her horn covered in a blue aura. Rarity… Rarity had saved you!

With great effort, she slowly lowered you to the ground by her side. Immediately, she pressed herself up against you for you to lean on. The feeling of her fur was so warm against your own. The moment you were released from her aura, you fell against her.

"Rarity," you mumbled, pressing the side of your face against hers. You were so tired…

"Let's get you to bed, dearest," you heard her say. "You can take my bed. You've more than earned it."

You could barely walk, let alone reply or keep your eyes open. You let her guide you through the boutique, helping you gently up the stairs before eventually you found it. Salvation. The feeling of a soft mattress and satin sheets and even better, nothing under your hooves for you to keep yourself held up.

Rarity held herself back from squealing or jumping for joy in her excitement. It worked! Her plan worked! Ah, but, how could it not have? Finally, Her beloved muse would never leave her again. Oh, how she adored you.

And how glad she was that you were far too exhausted to even notice the shackles that clasped around your hooves, secured by a bedpost.

Pressing a kiss to the top of your head, she whispered a wish for sweet dreams. And in the morning, you'd start the rest of your lives together. 

A happily ever after. Just like she'd always dreamed of.