#movement is for everyone no matter what your body is lack

[honeybcj]

can we talk more about classically-trained ballet dancer regulus? can we talk about how this affects his relationship with gender, sexuality, and movement as a whole? can we talk about how regulus is feminized from an early age to adhere to the strict binary rules of the classical world of dance? can we talk about how regulus is stuck in limbo of dancing for love, passion, and desire while refraining from living authentically in his body? can we talk about how regulus begins to break the mold and explores radicalized movement as a means to further explore his gender and live in a body that he can proudly call his home? can we talk about how regulus shares his love and passion for dance with other people, young kids like him, that just want to be happy and free in their bodies? can we talk about how regulus dissects and criticizes the foundations in which ballet was founded, socially, financially, and politically? can we talk about regulus and his drive to make movement more accessible to bodies because dance is for everybody and every body? can we talk about how, when regulus dances for the first time post-top surgery, he has never felt more alive in his life? can we talk about how regulus dances like his life depends on it? can we talk about how regulus would do anything to give movement to the masses to save others just like him?

[prettybabybaby]

Dark ideas for riddle brothers !! Mattheo x reader x Tom - noncon

You are a gryffindor and you piss both of them off . When they get to know that you are the one who pisses both of them off they make a plan to fuck you so hard that you know your place .

reader’s house is not mentioned

rating: ¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !

content: noncon

your intelligence puts even tom riddle to shame and you know it. you walk around with an air of superiority that rivals his own. your charm exceeds what his carefully curated persona could never quite reach. the picture perfect girl who would undoubtedly have everyone at her feet but still just out of reach.

mattheo was one of them. despite how much he tried to hide it, his fascination was clear. tom found the situation ridiculous, even telling his brother as much. but mattheo hadn’t listened. he never does.

you rejected him coldly, not even pretending to feel remorseful about it. mattheo’s pride had been hurt and he had hated you ever since. suddenly tom’s cruel remarks felt justified. they felt true and real.

the idea was mattheo’s, the plan coming to mind after yet another smug stare from you as you walked by him. you were taunting him, making sure that he knew that you knew how much your rejection had affected him.

tom was disinterested at first, finding no benefit in such an act. was he willing to risk his own reputation for the brief satisfaction of your dejected face and a tight squeeze around his cock? was he really willing to risk it all for pleas for remorse and smudged makeup? humiliation of being bare and vulnerable before your two greatest enemies while they used you brutally… mercilessly…

the appeal quickly grew, the next time mattheo made the offhanded comment tom wasn’t fast to shoot it down. tom made no effort to stop mattheo from creating a plan, but, he did offer a few pointers. tom also didn’t scold mattheo for his choice in timing, one that was way past curfew. tom asked for no confirmation, he simply showed up.

mattheo was already waiting, fingers anxiously tapping his thighs as he searched for his brother. when he saw him, a smile grew on his face. mattheo’s plan wouldn’t have worked without tom’s corrections, something tom made note of as he helped mattheo carry your body away.

soon enough, tom’s eyes roamed your chest as the buttons of your blouse were open wide and your tie, that was usually worn snugly around your neck, pressed and perfect, was pulled loose. tom watched as your chest bounced with each brutal thrust of his brother’s hips, lust and loathing fueling his movements.

mattheo put in a show better than you did. groans and moans tumbling from his lips freely, loud enough to block out the sobs that left yours. tom found it dramatic and unnecessary, though, he couldn’t say he hated the noises of frustration mattheo’s mocking drew from you.

even after mattheo, you were unbelievably tight. perhaps it was the lack of want, the sensitivity as your body screamed at you to give it a break. none of that mattered to tom. the only thing on his mind was the clenching around his cock, the slippery glide along your walls as he pushed in and out.

mattheo made sure to bother you again, clearly not through with you after one measly round. rough slaps to your cheeks, pinching your cheeks together meanly, forcing you to watch as tom fucked you. you simply sobbed as you watched his cock disappear between your legs, a painful burn in your core following each movement.

[starmapz]

cigarettes in the theater || s. geto

❦ suguru geto x sorcerer reader

❦ oneshot

❝ the week following the declaration of suguru geto's status as a curse-user, you receive an invitation to meet him for a movie. you know you should decline, but you don't have the heart to do so. what harm is there in sharing one last cigarette with your lover? ❞

❦ warnings ; no pronouns used. angst. hurt/comfort. pet names (angel, sweetheart, darling). use of cigarettes. graphic descriptions of death and injury. heavy subject matter discussed.

❦ words ; 3.4k.

masterlist || dependency - prequel || nicotine dream - follow up

By all accounts, you should be scared. You should be breathing heavily, your heart pounding in your ears, wide-eyed at the carnage that surrounds you in the theater. 

Yet… you aren’t.

You’re numb to it, numb to it all.

A body slumps to the floor in the row before you and all you can do is swallow the bile that threatens to upheave the contents of your stomach.

The presence behind you shouldn’t bring you the ease that it does. Yet, he’s been the only constant in your life as of recent, and you can’t bring yourself to hate him for what he’s done, even as a drop of blood runs down the side of your face. It isn’t your own, of course. He wouldn’t dare lay a hand on you.

You should have fought back against him, you should have protected everyone, but instead, you sat and watched. Maybe that makes you just as bad as it makes him. Maybe you’ll be sentenced to death by the higher-ups as well, seen as an accomplice to his actions tonight.

You wonder if you’re broken.

The worn red fabric of the seats hides the bloodshed so well that with little effort, you could clean everything up. You could hide the night’s calamity and go back home to Gojo, Ieiri, and Nanami. You could sweep this all under the rug, hide your trail, and blame it all on him.

Yet, you don’t move to do that.

He sits only a few seats back, smoke drifting languidly from his cigarette. His eyes are glued to the screen, just as yours are. There’s a sort of dramatic irony to the kind words being spoken on-screen as a drama plays.

“Cigarette?”

His voice is as sultry and kind as ever. You take a breath before you turn to look at him.

Suguru looks as beautiful as ever. His dark hair is up in a half-bun and the rest cascades down his shoulders, falling effortlessly over his collarbones. His eyes are sunken, tired, but that’s not unusual for him as of late. He’s wearing a deep blue sweatshirt and gray sweatpants. It’s almost cruel of him to do so, he knows it’s your favorite outfit on him.

It tugs on your heart strings in ways you can’t describe with words.

Your chest feels heavy, heart pounding suddenly against your rib cage, practically tearing its way out.

“Yeah,” you respond, barely above a whisper. You know he can’t hear it over the movie, but he reads your lips.

Long legs step over the chairs, descending the theater until he reaches your row. He pulls down the uncomfortable red seat, plopping down beside you. His cigarette hangs from his lips as he pulls a small box from his pocket. His sharp eyes watch your movements as you pull the cigarette from the cardboard.

“You look tired,” he comments, leaning over to light the cigarette.

“I could say the same for you,” you respond neutrally, taking a drag from the nicotine sitting between your lips. You blink a couple of times as you let the relaxation wash over you, a temporary escape from the dark corners of your mind.

Then again, it’s all temporary. Every life saved, every ‘thank you’ or lack thereof, each one a fleeting moment forgotten in the grand scheme of things and instead replaced with the sight of your lost classmates. Your lost friends.

The sight of Haibara flashes through your mind and you turn your head from the screen, from the bloodied seats before you, your jaw trembling subtly.

Suguru notices your movement, setting a hand on your knee. Your brain tells you to pull away. It tells you he’s dangerous, but there’s nothing more you want right now than to curl into his arms and feel his lips against your temple just as you had only a week ago.

So much has changed since then.

“Did it make you feel better?” You ask out of the blue, keeping your tone even as you steel yourself and push the image of your classmate’s body from your mind.

At the end of the day, his answer doesn’t matter. You’re surrounded by corpses in a theater. By all accounts, he’s already made his bed and you’re both laying in it here and now.

Suguru pauses, observing your expression. He can’t gleam anything about how you’re feeling, beyond the underlying sadness in your tired eyes. That look has been there for a while now, though. He recognizes it all too well. The dark circles beneath your eyes are a shade so dark that concern plagues him, though he knows he has to play his cards right in this conversation if he wants to help you heal.

“I don’t regret it,” he responds evenly, his thumb rubbing circles into your knee.

You bite your lip to prevent it from trembling. “That’s not what I asked, Sugu.”

You’re finally looking him in the eyes, for the first time in a week, for the first time since his return from the mission that sealed his fate as a curse-user.

You’re as gorgeous as he remembers, perhaps more. Even with sunken eyes, glossy and sad, and your hair somewhat disheveled, he finds himself unable to stop the way he stares at your lips. He still yearns to call you his still.

“It did, yes.”

It’s a nail in the coffin. This isn’t just a departure from Jujutsu Tech, he’s traveling into dangerous territory now, with malicious intent.

It should hurt to hear those words, it should be painful beyond belief. Yet, it’s not.

You think again that maybe you’re broken.

Silence hangs heavy over you both as you take a deep breath, processing his response.

“How’s Satoru?” He asks calmly. 

You swallow the bile rising in your throat. It’s sour and you frown at the feeling. “He’s been better. He’s angry with you.”

“I figured,” he hums softly, a bleak smile pulling at his thin lips. “Shoko?”

You take a long drag from the cigarette. “I’m not really sure,” you admit, avoiding his gaze now. You feel guilty for the fact that you’ve drifted apart from both Nanami and Ieiri, but the entire faculty seems to be drowning. None of you have time to yourselves and when you do, you’re locked away in your dorms.

“And you?”

You pause. You don’t know how you are.

No, that’s a lie. When Suguru reached out to invite you to a movie, deep down you knew this would happen. Maybe not the pile of bodies, but this conversation. From the moment you hesitantly typed see you there, you knew it would all lead to you crumbling in his arms.

Suguru is your lighthouse, your beacon of hope and safety. Your home. You love him too much to let him go.

“I miss you.”

He doesn’t miss a beat as he responds, “I miss you too.”

You can’t help it this time, your lip trembles and your chest heaves with a sob. “It’s all so fucked without you, Sugu. I don’t think-” Your voice betrays you, cutting you off as another sob wracks your body.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he hums, resting the cigarette between his soft lips as he moves his hand from your knee to wrap his arms around you. He braces himself as he lifts you up out of your seat, away from the armrest so that he can cradle you in his lap.

With a final drag from his cigarette, he puffs the smoke into the air and puts it out on the plastic armrest beside him, leaving a melted circular indentation behind. It doesn’t matter, in the grand scheme of the mess that is the theater.

His nimble fingers slip your own cigarette from your fingers as you cry into his chest. He taps his finger once against it, his other arm holding you tightly to his chest.

His warmth is so familiar and brings a sense of comfort you haven’t felt since the day the news broke.

The corpses of 112 of the village inhabitants were found dead.

Like alcohol over an open wound, the thought stings. You don’t agree with what he did, but… you suppose there is a reason you’re here.

“Why did you do it?” You swallow a sob, taking a deep breath to steady your breathing when you finally begin to steady your emotions. You shift in his lap to straddle him, letting your hands rest on his built chest.

He leans back in the chair, which reclines slightly with his weight. Taking a drag from the cigarette that was yours, he lets his hand rest on your hip. “You know the answer to that question.”

Of course you do. You’ve been thinking it. Nanami’s been thinking it.

Ever since Haibara’s passing, it’s been plaguing you all. Nanami feels he failed Haibara. You feel you failed them both as their superior. Yet Suguru… he’s been feeling the effects since Amanai’s passing. He’s been slowly spiraling and despite your best efforts, it’s clear this was inevitable.

“That’s not what I mean. What was the breaking point?”

Suguru blinks calmly, holding the cigarette to your lips to take a drag. “I exorcized the curse,” he begins, “yet they demanded I kill two young girls.” His expression shifts from neutrality for the first time in the night to one of disgust. “Shit, you should have seen them. Caged like goddamn animals, two innocent children.”

You try to keep an impartial expression, but your eyes widen, betraying your shock and distaste. If he can find the right words, Suguru wonders if maybe, just maybe, he might find you back in his arms for longer than this conversation.

“They’re sorcerers,” he tells you, “but they weren’t responsible for the curse.”

Your fingers grip at his sweatshirt as you wrestle with your emotions. You want to hug him, bring him the comfort his eyes silently beg for, but there’s so much going through your mind, so many questions to ask.

“There were innocent people there,” you state blankly.

“Were there?” He challenges you.

Your brow twitches, you’re not sure what to make of the question. It seems obvious that there would be. “Of course,” you respond, lips parting.

Suguru takes a long drag of the cigarette, putting it out in the same fashion as the previous one before dropping the stub to the floor. “Are they innocent for calling on us with no regard for the sorcerer bodies piling up?” When you don’t respond, he continues. “Are they innocent for standing by and allowing two terrified children to be caged like animals?”

Your gaze drifts to the side, melancholy swirling in your tired eyes. Suguru admires you as he lets you think, resting his hand that had been holding the cigarette on your thigh. He longs to bring you closer, to kiss your soft lips, but he refrains out of fear of ruining the conversation.

“I suppose that means I’m not innocent either,” you mumble, eyes darting to the severed leg that sits on the ground behind Suguru. You’re forced to swallow bile again at the sight, a shiver running up your spine. You’ve grown numb to the sight of death, but your stomach certainly hasn’t.

“Perhaps not,” he agrees, his deep and observant eyes taking in the minute twitches of muscles in your jaw.

With one hand firmly keeping distance between you despite the compromising position you’re in, you lift your other hand to rub your face, sighing. When you drop your hand back to his chest, he offers you a small smile. It’s just like him to keep smiling and offer solace for those in need in spite of his own turmoil.

“Do you disagree with my actions?”

“Yes,” you tell him firmly, not hesitating for a moment.

“Why didn’t you stop me, then?”

Your lips part, brow knit tightly as you spare a glance at the bloody scene around you. Why didn’t you stop him? You’re asking yourself the same question.

“I’ll ask again, my dear. Why didn’t you stop me?”

You want to vomit. You don’t agree with him. You don’t want to kill people. Why are you here?

All you can do is stare helplessly at him. Stare at his sharp and beautiful features, the way he looks at you with such admiration, the way his hands feel at home on your body.

“I don’t know,” you whisper. You’re almost certain he doesn’t hear you as the movie playing behind you picks up in volume and music plays.

Suguru attempts to pull you closer, but you keep your arms firm, keeping distance between the both of you. He doesn’t dare push it, push you. Not when he feels your resolve crumbling before him. Maybe it’s selfish of him, but he doesn’t care to be selfless any longer. He wants you, he wants you by his side.

“There’s a purpose to this all,” he tells you, raising his voice over the movie’s music. He’s running out of time to get through to you. Running out of time before the carnage is spotted by employees and Jujutsu Tech is informed. He already failed to convince Satoru to join him, but he knew that would happen already, the snowy-haired sorcerer was far too set in his ways.

“Satoru told me,” you say all too quietly, but he reads your lips.

“Then why are you here, my love?”

“I-” you pause, the words die in your throat. You can’t say what you’re thinking, it pains you physically as you turn your gaze to the melted hole in the arm of the chair, desperate to focus on anything that isn’t him.

“You can tell me,” he coaxes you, “even if it hurts me.”

You would never hurt Suguru.

“I miss you,” you tell him again, eyes brimming with tears now. The words are on the tip of your tongue. You know it, he knows it.

“I miss you too, sweetheart.”

He’s so patient, so calm, as he always is. You know no matter what conclusion you come to, he’ll accept it. He would let you leave, though you think you wish he wouldn’t.

The music in the background fades as the movie comes to an end, much more somber, quiet music taking over as the credits roll. The light from the screen dims, leaving the both of you in near-darkness. Suguru is running out of time with you as the movie nears its final moments. It’s only a matter of time now before staff arrive and the police and Jujutsu Tech are informed.

“I think I still love you, Sugu,” you whimper. You can’t hold back your tears any longer as finally they spill, sobs wracking your body.

Suguru shushes you softly, relieved when finally you give in and allow him to hold you to his chest. He runs his hand gently along your spine, soothing you as you tremble in his muscular arms.

“I never stopped loving you. I never will,” he whispers. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, closing his eyes as he relishes the moment. He missed you more than he ever thought possible, and the idea of losing you again when he’s already lost his best friend brings with it a sense of hopelessness he’s grown all too familiar with.

You clutch at his sweatshirt desperately as the reality of your situation crashes down on you. You want out. You want out of the world of Jujutsu sorcery and curses, you want out of the world where those you care about die.

Yet… you don’t want to leave with Nanami. You don’t want to work a nine to five job like he’s expressed interest in. You don’t want to stay with Gojo, you know he’s too dedicated to Jujutsu Tech. You don’t want to eliminate humans from the world like Suguru. But you don’t want to live without him either.

In a matter of a week it’s like your whole world came crashing down and you sit in limbo.

Suguru’s eyes flicker to the screen and he sighs. The credits are reaching their end as more and more logos show and he knows he’s nearly out of time. He can’t face Satoru again if that’s who they send after him, not right now with you here in his arms. He’s running out of time with you.

“I want you by my side,” he tells you softly.

You raise your head from his shoulder and he gently wipes your tear-streaked cheeks. “You can’t ask that of me.”

His calm eyes observe you carefully. “Talk to me, then. Why are you here?”

Your lips part, hesitant, but you manage to choke out what’s on your mind. “I feel lost.”

“You don’t want to be at the school anymore,” he fills in the blank. He knew that already, before he chose how he wanted to live, back when he was still a student, you had expressed a desire to leave.

“I don’t want to- to kill people, Sugu.”

“I wouldn’t ask that of you.”

You sigh, chewing on your lip. You inadvertently find yourself glancing down at his lips, pursed as he waits for you to make a decision.

“Then what are you asking of me?”

Suguru pauses, he hadn’t thought much of his answer to this question. He knew you wouldn’t want to bring harm to people, you’re too kind. He lifts his head slightly, staring into your eyes, a tempest of uncertainty thundering within them. As his lips brush yours, he can only hope, pray, that you’ll allow him to close the distance, that you’ll give in to him.

“I could use help looking after the girls while I’m away.”

You pause, taking in his words. There’s still a lick of uncertainty to this whole situation. Your life has lost its direction, but the one thing you find yourself drawn to is him. Although you disagree with his methods, he’s right.

You are here.

You didn’t stop him from wreaking havoc on the theater.

You don’t hate him for what he’s done.

You feel his pain. Yours just manifests in a different way.

Like a switch finally flips, you lean forward, pressing your lips to his. Your fear, your pain, even if only for a moment, it all dissolves as you’re consumed with him, with Suguru, your lover.

He slides a hand to the back of your head, pulling you into him as he deepens the kiss, passion overflowing from the movement of his lips on yours. His tongue swipes your lower lip and with a quiet whimper, you give him access to deepen the kiss. It gives him the chance to say everything his words don’t.

He parts from you, eyes flickering wildly over your features with nothing short of adoration in those beautiful deep irises of his. He pants lightly, catching his breath as he cups your cheeks.

“We need to leave, angel.”

You swallow hard.

This is it, there’s no turning back now.

Slowly, you nod.

“I love you, Suguru.”

“I love you, too.”

Hand in hand, you escape out the theater’s emergency exit. As the sun sets over the horizon, you spare a glance at your boyfriend.

You hadn’t noticed in the dim lighting but blood coats his sweats, dried into the gray fabric. His hair still drips with fresh blood and your breathing hitches when you see the way his keen eyes follow your gaze. He doesn’t seem at all phased by it.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you realize that he has bloody handprints covering his shoulders. Shaky hands lift to stare at your crimson palms. Before you can overthink your decision, Suguru gently takes your hand in his.

“I need a cigarette,” you whisper shakily, thankful when he complies. He lights it for you and as you take a drag, you feel your nerves calm.

You wonder what life would have been like had you met him at a normal college.

As news breaks of the carnage in the theater and you’re labeled as a curse-user too, you wonder if you have any right to wish for things to be different.

You wonder again if you’re broken, but as two young girls run up to meet you excitedly and hop into your boyfriend’s strong arms, you watch him with a small smile. Though he still looks exhausted, he seems happier.

For the first time in a week as you’re dragged into Suguru’s new home, you don’t feel the crushing weight of uncertainty.

You don’t regret your decision.

masterlist || dependency - prequel || nicotine dream - follow up

[ash-says]

Being in touch with your sensuality:

On today's episode of ash-says we are going to talk about how to get in touch with your sensuality. Personally it's something I am very passionate about and kind of indulgent too.

Sensuality helps me in feeling alive and in tune with myself. I can't guarantee it for everyone but for me it works wonders. It's like the "Amrut" or "rejuvenating water" (for a lack of better terms) for me. Along with that it's the most healthy way for expressing my sexuality and keeping it in control to not let it affect my day to day functioning.

Here are some ways I incorporated in the last five years of my life to be in touch with my sensuality:

1) Exercise: No matter what I am going to vouch for this always. The way it helps me in expressing the surplus energy and controlling my desires is a chef's kiss. Plus helps in tackling the sluggish feeling.

2) Dance: Especially the slow sensual seductive dance. Not only it's a good outlet but above all that it validates the emotions and creates a space to delve in it to create a beautiful synchronisation with the body movements.

3) Art: Create! Create! Create! Nothing better than creating beautiful art or writing poems, stories,etc to voice your passion for the world and it's offerings.

4) Music: I have playlists on Spotify that specifically cater to my sensual mood. It has all the songs that can set a tone for the bedroom (iykyk). Singing to it or dancing works wonders. It's a magical experience.

5) Meditation: You can meditate on those feelings to internalize it and put all that energy in proper use for achieving a goal,etc. This is something I very rarely do because I am a very active person but putting it out here cause it works for some people.

6)Play Barbie: This is my personal favourite. After all I am just a girl. I put on some makeup, wear a bold sexy outfit or a cute dress (depending on the mood) then spend my time reading a romance novel and listening to sensual songs. It's my kind of therapy🦋🦋

7) Be a model: Being all dressed up but not clicking any photos you got to be kidding me!!! Come on girl! Pose and click! You are not going to be this young again. The best thing I do is this. It literally helps in skyrocketing my confidence. I don't click pictures daily but boy when I do, God forbid!!

8) Unlearn the shame: The basic one. You need to own your body first and appreciate it. I know saying is easy but hey you won't get there if you never start.

9) Imitate things that you find sexy: I will explain this with an example, so I find laying on the bed on my chest with my legs dangling in the air extremely sexy so when I am alone I will lie on the bed in that way as a way of expressing. Secondly, we all know sipping wine while reading a book is incredibly sexy while being dressed all slutty but I don't consume alcoholic beverages so as an alternative I drink pomegranate juice. Plus I find pomegranate as the sexiest fruit for obvious reasons.

10) Invest in things that make you feel sensual and seductive: It doesn't need to be costly. Find your sexy and invest!! For me it's aroma candles, jewellery, deep neck tops, skirts, ribbons, art honestly I have developed a knack to turn any ordinary thing into something seductive atp I feel. Everything works for me. So exploreeee!! If you are experimental enough and don't have parental risks you can try out sex toys too.

That's all for today's show on ash-says. Stay tuned for more illegal tricks and explosive opinions.

[nausicaaandhermouth]

The Healer

masterlist

viktor x anhedonic!reader [1.4k][AO3]

cw: implied/referenced depression, suicide, suicidal ideation, self harm

summary: Anhedonia set in and the idea of exiting life's stage became all the more appealing. But you've heard about The Healer and perhaps he can save you.

tags: gn reader, S2 Viktor, post-Act 1, anhedonia, angst, depression, suicide, SI, SH, viktor gardening?, reader's just admiring him atp, not betad, not encouraging anybody to join any cult

a/n: idk if vik's abilities extends to making plants appear but for this pretend it does

if you're unfamiliar with what anhedonia is, it's a symptom of a larger condition (can be depression, bipolar, schizophrenia, more), characterised by the inability to experience physical and/or social pleasure. makes existing difficult, like you're dragging so much pointless weight and everything feels high effort, so what's the point.

just a brief description (based on what i've learnt from it in research and experience), so i encourage learning more to get it more in depth if it interests you or sounds too familiar.

You prayed for an easy coax out of the darkness.

The little home of scrap fabric and heartbroken brick you built throughout the years was becoming more and more dilapidated, though its original state had never been of full health to begin with. And like it, your body’s ridges became prominent, visited by unexplained bruises, warmed by the thickened hair on your skin, and yet living on had always been the only option you saw—no, the only option you allowed.

You’d breathed long enough to outlive many of those around you. Whether it was becoming grey-lunged corpses, enforcer punching bags, or a Promenade diver, everybody knew somebody who, sooner rather than later, knelt to kiss Death’s feet. Surrendered. Be it by their own or another’s will.

Then it fell upon you: the swole blanket of indifference, of apathy. It cloaked your mind, buried your defences that was defiance, which had been the only source of survival you’d had left. But snuffed out now.

And how easy it is to think of self-inflicted inexistence when it seems nothing else matters.

Oblivion would whisper in the corner, a demented, deformed dog snarling yet begging your hand’s comfort. Come to me. And you can’t find good reason as to why you shouldn’t.

This… healer—a man whose touch could gild any man’s sick and bestow him a new life, a new body, a new mind—you’re not sure when he arrived. But the whispers morphed to murmurs which morphed to rumours and unfolded itself into your side of the city’s underbelly.

Was he the answer to your prayer?

You made journey to the place you’d heard he’d made camp, and it unfurled before you and stole all expectation and put them to rest. Because for once, the Sumps had colour, had life.

At the centre stood a strange, globular… building? Just like stained glass, its surface was of mute Spring colours, translucent, swirling lattice-work reminiscent of butterfly wing patterns.

He’s a tall thing. A beautiful thing. His metal body cloaked, careful, and coded with grace. Each movement was deliberate, no gaze shared unintentional. How had he come to exist? How had this world birthed your people’s suffering but, as well, him?

You want to laugh at the sick irony. Whoever’s dealing the cards need their hands cut off.

“What ails you?” he asks, giving you such soft regarding you can’t help but be rendered speechless.

In truth, you’re not sure. Physically, you know you’re lacking, but so was everyone so why are you different? In your head there sits a temptress, attempting to lure you to the edge of buildings or blades, but she had no name. No one speaks of her.

The healer tilts his head, seeming to take a better look at you. He looks so kind. Such eyes, opalescent, have seen suffering, and you know it.

“Life,” you give a one-shouldered shrug, smiling. “I… I’m not actually… uh, I don’t know what I’m doing here,” you take a step back.

What had been the point of this? Attempt what? Healing? What’s this man to do?

“No,” he steps closer, his voice swathed in a strange mechanical whir. “Stay,”

You’re sure that by the furrowed desperation on you, it convinces something inside him, as he turns and beckons you with a nudge of his head. So you follow.

Each step he makes creates a heavy thunk beneath him, and though you don’t feel its impact, merely by sound you feel the weight of him. How had he acquired such a body? Modded fingers, let alone limbs, cost years of your wages—you can’t imagine how much his entire body might have cost.

“I can feel something plaguing you,” he begins, shifting slightly to catch a look of you.

You scoff but it doesn’t quite match your face.

“Then what brought you to me?” he shrugs and looks away, leading you to the side of the Sumps where a clear plain rolled out.

You watch as he kneels and reaches for the soil, taking it between metal fingers.

“I’m not sure,” you kneel beside him, shoulders bunching up. “What are you doing?”

He hums, smoothing the ground and creating indents, “I’m assessing,”

You lean forward, folding your arms and hanging your head to look at him.

The metal frames his face, just barely hidden by chestnut waves, curling beneath the jaw and around the ear.

He’s got a rather angular beauty to him, something belonging to scrutiny and studiosity. Even his strong brows follow theme, arched forward in a focused furrow, over narrowed eyes homing iridescent irises. You’re not sure if he’s from this world. Or if the world was gifted him.

Your attention trails back to his hand, and he digs his fingers beneath the soil. Then, hand glowing beneath the metallic muscles, the ground is imbued with a light, where then verdant stems spring alive.

You choke back a gasp, glancing about as the spindly bodies uncurl and reveal yellow petals. Roses?

Whipping back to him, you take note of the glow leaving his eyes, shock threading through your system.

When you glance back at the flowers, now surrounding the both of you, you can’t help but think: logically, how you might have reacted would be with pleasant surprise, glee, even.

Such occurrences, the arcane or a mere flower field, was a coveted sight, and without a doubt you would have felt the surge of optimism. But instead nothing happens. Instead it’s unmet anticipation and expectation sitting at your belly, pooling into grey disappointment.

It’s when you look back to the healer that you realise this disappointment must have shown on your face. He inclines his head so slightly, blinks, as if saying I understand. And he smiles. He smiles and it’s the gentlest thing ever given to you to hold and witness.

You want to crumple, to lay graves for your limbs and disassemble each part that ever dared to exist only to suffer. There used to be anger, and at the very least there was indignation. At topside for their neglect, your parents or finding each other, for finding something beyond the misery and creating you. Where had all such righteous resentment gone?

“Viktor,”

You look up to see the healer’s hand stretched out, asking for yours in return. And you oblige, shaking it gently, before pulling away only to be held with soft restraint.

“You are welcome to stay,” his voice becomes tender, becomes more human almost, aimed purely for your audience. “Even if what torments is not outright seen. I welcome all,”

Your breath comes out long, carrying with it the tired days in the dark. The healer… Viktor makes no acknowledgement of this but just another observant blink, the corners of his mouth slightly tightening.

“Wasn’t gonna die or anything,” you joke, flattening your lips and hoping it registers as a smile, however trying it may appear.

“Eh,” Viktor shrugs, turning his attention to your hand and turning it about as if trying to see new angles. “A slow death is still a death,”

This makes you frown. Why has he assumed? But why is he right?

“The slower it is, the more painful, I think,” he remarks, but he seems almost far away. “As you watch what is left of you wither, and all you can do is… hm, watch,”

Then you understand. Something in your chest tightens as you take in once again all this stranger is. “You’re well-acquainted,” you note, coming out barely as breath and observation, spoken clearer by the narrowing of your eyes than your own voice.

He looks at you again, and something’s changed. His eyes? It seems. There’s something more amber about them, more grounded in this singular hue. “My longest companion,”

You hum, nodding.

There’s a safety in knowing you’re understood, even if they’re not able to fix you. It cloaks you warmer than summer, than any consolation offered in pity—he understands. And perhaps not the very same that brandishes you, but in some aspect he knows.

Which is what makes you ask, “Can you fix me?”

His eyes resume that pearl sheen once again and you’re mesmerised, gaze flitting between each eye in deep investigation—tell me who you are, how you are; tell me how you’ll fix me. Like the field around, the sweet sunshine hues of the roses, to make your land more than just barren.

And he does. He raises his other hand, uncurling, coming to hover by your face. “May I?”

You breath sweeps back in and you nod, leaning forward and connecting his cold fingers to your cheek.

He notes you for a moment, saying nothing, doing nothing. It’s his gaze that makes you feel naked, removed of any pretence crafted carefully. But he shifts his attention and his fingers connected with your forehead, eyes overtaken by a white glow.

Your vision drowns in the white.

a/n anhedonia's been hitting me and this is the only thing i could muster to make so here we gooo. not my favourite, feel like i could've done it better but oh well, least i made something wahooyaaa writing is coping after all 🫵🏼😃🗣️

requests + taglist open!

[this is a reupload, i have no idea why the original post disappeared :''')]

[mothybean]

Loud

An: this fanfic is rated R so minors DO NOT INTERACT! This is probably the most smuttiest fic I’ve written so hold on to your underwear lol.

Jinx GP! x FemReader

•••

I’ve had my eye on her for a while—the wild, blue-haired, braided bombshell. She was everywhere I looked: at every underground rave, EDM show, and concert I attended. She’d be there, flaunting her perfect body, girls, guys and everyone in between drooling over her figure. Yet, no matter how hard they tried, she never acknowledged them the way they did her. 

Her vibe screamed, ‘try all you want, but you’re going to get nowhere,’ and it was alluring. I’d be a big, fat liar if I said I wasn’t part of the drooling herd. I absolutely was. In fact, I was right at this moment.

I watched her from afar, her body gracefully moving to the music. The indoor venue’s LEDs and strobes accentuated her toned physique. My eyes couldn’t get enough of her. My favorite part of her was her midriff. 

I loved how her clothing always revealed her belly. The lack of fabric meant I could admire her sleeve of baby blue cloud tattoos that flowed from her right arm down the right side of her waist. There was something about girls with tattoos that drove me wild. Especially hers.

She danced with a group of girls dressed in revealing outfits, their petite hands trailing over her skin like starving animals. Watching their touch made my blood boil with envy—I wanted to be the one touching her, not them. Yet, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Chained by my own inability to be direct, I hid within the crowd, silently watching as these women got their fill of the tatted beaut.

I turned to my friends to say something, but from the looks of it, they were no longer on planet Earth. Their eyes were glazed over, fixated on the flashing lights like moths to a flame. I waved my hand in front of them, but they were too far gone, as if in a trance, the music dictating their movements like slaves. Safe to say, the Molly they had taken beforehand was doing its job. I sigh through my nostrils.

Looking away from my zombie-like companions, I glance back at my crush. As expected, she was still dancing, the sweat on her exposed skin glistening under the ever changing rainbow LEDs. I felt feral. I wanted to march right up to her and pull her into a deep, passionate kiss, telling her how much I liked her. I shook my head at the imaginary scenario, realizing how cringey I was being. She would probably smack me if I did that. Hell, I would too if some rando professed their love to me while I was busy minding my own business.

Going for another sip of my drink, my lips were met with ice cubes and a bit of watered down remains. I groan with frustration. I needed more liquid courage. 

I yelled over the music to my friends—who I doubt even understood English at this point—and made my way to the bar. I waved at the man behind the bar, flashing him my neon orange wristband. The shirtless buff bartender nodded and leaned over the counter to hear my request.

“Give me the strongest shit you got!” I yelled, my voice fighting against the heavy bass that pounded through the speakers. He nodded and stepped away to work on my order.

While I waited, I leaned my forearms against the cool counter, my skin sticking to the black marble surface beneath. I scrunch my face, horrified with the uncomfortable sensation. I quickly pull away, subconsciously rubbing my arms, trying to get rid of the sweat that lingered.

“Ick.”

I hated being sweaty. It made me feel unclean and uncomfortable, but I didn’t have a choice. I’d been dancing for hours next to other sweaty bodies in a poorly air-conditioned building. What was I expecting? As much as I hated the sweat, my love for EDM outweighed it. At least I wasn’t as drenched as my friends. The happy little white pill certainly turned them into a waterfall, their clothes visibly soaked with sweat. I enjoyed Molly, but decided against it tonight. As much as I wanted to drip with ecstasy, I didn’t want to become a gross puddle of nastiness.

“Bad night?” A raspy voice asked from my right.

The sudden question caught me off guard. I turn to the voice’s owner and my stomach immediately does a quadruple front flip. It was her. My electric blue crush, in the sweaty flesh. She was standing next to me… talking to me. Holy fuck.

“O-oh, uh, n-not at all! It’s just hot in here…” I stammered, forgetting almost every English word I knew as I tried to respond to the blue-haired beauty. She smirked, her gaze dangerous as she locked eyes with mine. My pussy did a backflip.

“Yeah…it’s pretty hot in here.” Her eyes slightly eyeing me up and down.

My body became a confusing temperature of hot and cold, both temperatures fighting to become the more prominent degree. Was she flirting with me? I felt my breath hitch.

The bartender snapped me out of my racing thoughts as he placed my drink in front of me. My eyes dropped to the clear cylindrical glass, watching the ice cubes float around the interesting colored liquid. It almost looked like gasoline with how yellow and viscous it looked.

“Whatcha got there?” She asked, peering into my cup.

I shrugged and picked up the glass, bringing it to my lips. Whatever it was, it was strong. The alcohol practically singed my nose hairs when I sniffed it. It had to be at least 100% proof.

“I’m not sure, I just asked for somethin’ strong.”

Her smirk became wider as she moved closer to me, her fingers wrapping around a fresh shot of vodka. She was so close. She smelled  like a mixture of something oriental and musky. I liked it.  I gulped as I watched her delicate fingers lift the shot glass.

“Somethin’ strong, huh?” Without a hint of hesitation, she swiftly knocked the shot back and slammed the empty glass on the counter. She smirked and leaned forward, her lips brushing against my ear. She gave a soft hum before she asked, “Wanna dance?”

I blinked a few times, processing her question, trying hard to not pass out from excitement that was surging through my nervous system. 

Holy fuck. Was I dreaming? 

I threw the mystery alcohol back, the substance practically burning a layer of skin off my esophagus as it slid down. I didn’t care, I was too enamored with what was about to come. I wiped my lips with the back of my hand and nodded vigorously. The next thing I knew, her hand was firmly around mine, dragging me into the sea of people.

The drink I downed had an immediate effect. My vision blurred slightly, like someone with astigmatism, yet everything around me remained clear enough to process. My body felt loose and comfortably warm. Every single fear and anxiety I had was completely obliterated by this strange liquid. Whatever it was…I felt amazing.

My eyes were glued to hers as the music controlled us, our bodies pressed together, moving in unison. I was on cloud nine. The way she moved, the closeness, the ambiance, the alcohol… I was elated. Her gaze made it feel like we were the only ones in the room, the music slowly echoing as if I were underwater. As she danced with me, her hands on my hips, a wave of desire washed over me—I was undeniably horny.

The alcohol took over my body, yelling at me to touch her. Without a nanosecond of debate, I obeyed, my hands finding their way to the small of her back, pulling her close. I was much smaller than her, but with how petite her frame was, I momentarily forgot just how tall she was. I looked up at her, her eyes already staring down on me. I watched her eyes flicker through a few emotions—amusement, hunger, temptation. She confirmed my educated guess by sliding her hands down to my ass, pulling me even closer to her.

The fast paced beat of the music matched my heart beat, my love muscle thumping against my rib cage. I wanted her. I wanted to kiss those beautiful, soft, pink puffy lips.

So I did. 

My thoughts were no longer coherent; they mimicked a ritualistic chant begging me to seize the moment and just go for it. I bravely removed my hands from her waist and grabbed her face, pulling her to meet mine. Electricity spilled from my lips the moment hers met mine, my body following suit. She hesitated, but just for a moment before she returned my kiss with equal, if not more intensity. 

With my courage running low, I pulled away, my hands still cupping her face. I bit my lip, analyzing her expression. Her eyes were wide with surprise, her hands still firmly on my waist. I was about to pull away and profusely apologize, but the moment I opened my mouth, she crashed her lips into mine once again. I immediately melted into her kiss, my arms wrapping around her neck. Our second kiss turned into a heated make out session, our hands roaming every inch of skin we could find. 

I was soaked.

She broke the kiss this time, her hands on my ass. She rested her forehead against mine and flashed a mischievous grin.

“Wanna go somewhere…private?”

My pussy throbbed.

“Yes, please”

The moment the words escaped my mouth, she forcefully dragged me away from the crowd and down a dimly lit hallway. I had no clue where we were going, but I didn’t care. All I could think about was how hot she was. I was still extremely shocked with how the night was playing out. I was starting to appreciate my immense disgust for sweat. If I never made that face at the bar, she probably wouldn’t have talked to me.

She led us to a gray metal door, a red neon exit sign flickering above it. Outside? She wanted to mess around outside? As unsure as I was about her location of choice, I don’t object, allowing her to lead us through the door.

We stepped out of the building into a narrow secluded alleyway, the only source of light was from a nearby street lamp. It looked clean, no garbage insight except a few stray cigarette butts and gold condom wrappers. The air was warm, a perfect temperature. I took a deep breath in as she led us deeper into the alley, appreciating the fresh oxygen entering my lungs.

“Shit, it’s so nice out here.” I gasp, enjoying the sudden breeze against my skin.

She grinned, softly pushing me against the brick wall to the right of us, out of view of the street and side door we exited from. I breathed heavily as she pinned my arms against the hard surface.

“You’re so hot…” I mutter, my eyes hooded with desire.

She pressed her crotch against mine, her smile dropping a bit, a more stoic expression taking over.

“Oh yeah?” She said, her voice husky. As she pressed her hips harder against mine, my eyes widened. At first, I thought it was a phone in her pocket…but now…

“U-um…can I ask—” she cut me off with a small snort, pressing even harder against me.

“My name?”

I blinked a few times before it occurred to me. I didn’t even know her name. I nod slowly.

“Jinx.” She smiled. “Yours?”

“Y/n…b-but I don’t wanna be so forward but what—”

“My dick?”

Her bluntness caught me off guard, my mouth agape. H-her dick?

“Shocking, huh,” Jinx laughed, pulling her body away slightly. “I was born with both parts…go figure.” She stayed silent for a second. “Does that bother you?”

My pupils dilated from her confession and her size that pushed against my covered pussy. For some reason, I was more turned on than before.

“N-no! Not at all. I’m shocked, but I’m not disappointed in the slightest.” I say, barely above a whisper, my hands clutching her hips, pulling her closer.

Her pupils mimicked mine. She placed her lips to my ear, her breath hot against my ear’s shell.

“Good. Because I wanna fuck you.” She growled.

I crushed my lips hungrily against hers, my hands exploring her body once again. With this new piece of information, I was desperate to see what it looked like. Considering her having a legitimate sized bulge, it must be huge. I felt my mouth water at the thought. As our tongues engaged in a feverish battle, my hands roamed to her lower half, brushing against her bulge. I needed to know.

Her hips buckled softly as I slid my hand down the front of her black skinny jeans. She was hard as a rock from what I could feel. With how skinny her jeans were, I could only imagine how she managed to stuff herself in such tight clothing. It must hurt if she’s that endowed. My hands fumbled with her pants button, followed by the zipper. She gave a sigh of relief in my mouth as I released the pressure her member was causing.

My heart sped up as I gently pulled her pants down, her gray box briefs still on. With her member no longer suppressed by her jeans, my hand could fully feel what she was packing. I glanced down briefly, viewing the large imprint against her briefs. Jinx peeked an eye open and smiled smugly. 

“Like what you see?” 

Instead of responding verbally, I place my hand through the opening of her underwear and pull out her cock. She let out a soft moan before shoving her tongue back into my mouth. Her dick was massive. I could barely wrap my whole hand around it, but I tried regardless. I moved my hand up and down her length, earning me a low guttural moan each time I slid my hand back down.

“F-fuck…” Her hips bucked into my hand as I jerked her off. I felt my pussy throb as I continued to move my hand against her. I wanted her to fuck me right then and there. She was so…alluring. Each kiss we shared had me immediately wanting more. Speaking of more…

I let go of her member and pulled away from her. She looked like a lost puppy the moment I did.

“W-why’d you stop?” She groaned, her hand dropping to her shaft, gripping it softly. 

I smiled seductively and bit my lip before I dropped to my knees, the tip of her cock was eye to eye with my mouth. Before she could say anything further, I placed my lips around her tip, grazing her slit with the tip of my tongue.

“O-oh shit…that’s fucking nice.” She moaned, throwing her head backwards. I giggled into her cock, bobbing my head slowly. 

I was insanely turned on. How lucky was I? A beautiful girl with such a massive surprise. Could this night get any better?

Jinx placed her palms against the brick wall in front of her, moaning softly as I continued to suck her off, my tongue dragging down her length to her base. I could feel my underwear dripping at this point. The sensation was uncomfortable, but I kept going, her cock practically halfway down my throat. I gagged, unable to keep her in my mouth long and pulled back to catch my breath. How could such a petite girl have this big of a dick? I placed my hands against her thighs and tried to engulf her once more. 

Eventually, after a few more minutes of me battling her size, Jinx pulls her cock out of my mouth. I pulled away as well, watching her member twitch slightly, begging for release. 

Why did she…? 

I look up at her with confused eyes. She stared down at me, a primal expression plastered on her face. She licked her lips before pulling me to my feet, forcefully shoving my torso against the wall. I grunt at the sudden harsh impact.

“Fuck…” I whimper, my palms against the rustic brick.

My swear word earned me a hard slap on the ass, a mixture of pain and pleasure reverberating throughout my body. I whimper again. As I was pressed against the wall, I felt Jinx position herself behind me, shoving her cock between my clothed thighs. I moaned as her length grazed my clit. The way she felt against me drove me insane. I wanted it and I wanted it now.

“Oh Jinx…” I gasped as she continued to thigh fuck me.

She moaned quietly, pulling her body away from mine.

“Pull your pants down.” She demanded, her voice dangerous.

She didn’t have to ask me twice. My fingers hooked under the hem of my leggings, pulling the black fabric downwards, revealing my matching color thong. Jinx��s breath hitched.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes.” She growled, smacking my bare ass cheek again. The sound of her palm connecting with my ass echoed within the alley way. Thank god the music in the building was blasting. I had a feeling that it was about to get loud.

Jinx once again slid her dick in between my legs, using thighs as friction. With less fabric separating us, I felt the skin of her shaft against the top of my pussy. It was soft and warm…I wanted…no—needed more of it. 

I slowly swayed my ass side to side, enticing her to remove my underwear. It enticed her alright. Jinx grunted and pulled my thong to the side. Without warning, she pushed the tip of her cock into my tight hole.

“A-ah!” I whimpered, my hand holding onto my ass as she entered me. “Fuck…”

Jinx let out a long breath moan as she slowly backed in and out of me.

“Y-you’re so tight…”

I couldn’t respond. Her length and thickness was absolutely wrecking my hole. Each time she thrusted, I felt my pussy stretch, struggling with her blessed genetics. She was a lot bigger than what my hand and eyes speculated. I certainly wasn’t disappointed, but it did hurt.

“Mmm…” I moaned happily, my pussy finally adjusting to her size. She was at least 7 inches, her girth comparable to a soda can. Okay, maybe a little less than that, but damn was she close.

Jinx’s hips picked up the pace, her member sliding in and out of me with ease. She felt so good. My pussy was just dripping from the sounds we were making. Her breathy moans, the wetness of my pussy, the rhythmic sounds of our skin slapping together…it made my head spin. She could fuck me all day if she wanted to.

The knot in my core was increasing, I felt myself close to the edge. My whole body was tingling, my pussy aching for release.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I almost screamed, her cock slamming into me with motive.

“You like that baby?” She taunted, her balls smacking into my cunt as she thrusted faster.

My mind went blank, my eyes rolled back. I didn’t know how much more I could take. Her dick was like fucking morphine with how good it felt. Everytime she smashed into me, I wanted to cry, the amount of pleasure was unbearable. Suddenly, my body gave me the warning—I was about to cum. And hard.

“J-jinx… I-I’m gonna…” Was all I could manage to say before my eyes rolled backwards, my body shaking violently as I came onto her throbbing cock. The sound of me climaxing seemed to push Jinx to her edge as well.

“Oh shiiit…” Jinx groaned loudly, her hips desperate for friction, pumped a bit faster before she started to slow down, her fingernails digging into my asscheeks.

Jinx moved in and out of me a few more times before she pulled herself out. The moment she removed her cock, I felt her thick load drip out of my pussy and onto my left thigh.

I shakily turned around to face her, my body dripping with sweat as I panted heavily. She smiled, wiping the sweat from her forehead and stepped towards me, her hands resting on my hips.

“Well, Y/n…I know this is a bit backwards,” she panted, gripping my hips a bit tighter. “But would you like to…I don’t know…go out sometime? Grab some dinner?” 

I poked the inside of my cheek with my tongue. To answer my earlier question, yes… the night absolutely could get better. I bit my lip, suppressing my eagerness.

“I’d like that a lot,” I smirked, snaking my arms around her neck and placed a small kiss on her lips. “I’m free tomorrow if that works for you?” I rested my head against the brick wall.

She nodded, flashing me her infamous smile.

“Sounds good to me…” 

A comfortable silence filled the night air, our bodies still hot and sweaty. Jinx cleared her throat and looked down. Curiously, I followed her gaze and raised my eyebrow at the sight.

“Round 2?” She smirked, pressing herself against me. I was impressed. She certainly had the stamina.

At that moment, sweat no longer seemed to bother me. In fact, I wouldn’t mind being covered in it if it meant she was the cause.

“I thought you’d never ask…”

[retroellie]

Phone Call

Summary: You were frustrated, beyond tired of your boyfriend always ditching you for his team. So you decided to show him just how frustrated you were while he was on the phone with his boss.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who voted on the poll! I wrote this really fast so it's a bit messy, but enjoy it anyways <3

Warnings: NSFW, Sex while on the phone, Slight dirty talk, normal CM talk

Word count: 4.1k

Recently, Spencer has been away a lot. He told you that it was most likely because it's summer and "statically most serial killers strike in the summer". You didn't care what season serial killers strike in, you only cared that Spencer was away from you. It always worried you, always frustrated you that his coworkers got to spend more time with him than you did. Even though Spencer made sure to call you every chance he got, you hated how much time this job had taken away from you and Spencer. You were sometimes afraid you would end up like Hotch and Haley, lovers one day and then the next complete strangers as if your love never existed. However, your fear was quickly shut down as soon as Spencer got home.

Most nights when Spencer returned would always end up like tonight, with you and Spencer trying desperately to get each other off. Spencer had come home late, his eye bags looking worse than ever but he didn't care. He went into your shared room and started ripping your clothes off, whispering how much he missed you into your ear. What Spencer lacked in being present he made up for in worshiping your body every chance he got. It started off as a makeout session, his hands groping you through your clothes... but it led to you on top of him, hips burning as you thrust down on him. You both were tired, both worn down, and both extremely horny with just one look at each other.

"Fuck..." You moaned out, hands scratching at Spencer's chest as you picked up the speed of your hips.

Spencer threw his head into the pillows, feeling your pace quicken and your pussy tighten around him. No matter how many times you have had Spencer deep inside you, it never fails to amaze you just how perfect he felt inside you as if he was built just for you. With each thrust of your hips, his cock penetrated the spongy area inside of you, hitting your G-spot almost perfectly. His hands were placed on your hips as he helped you bounce and roll your hips up and down, urging you to go ever faster.

You were on the edge, your pussy clenching tighter and tighter around Spencer which led him to his climax with you. This was pure ecstasy, no drug on the planet could make you feel any higher than how Spencer did. You could never get enough of him, ever. His smile, his voice, his stupid facts he told you about, his soft snores at night, the way his cock curved slightly, his soft tummy... he was your drug. The fact of you being so addicted to him created some very unusual situations that Spencer would never in a million years think he would be in. Like one time you dragged him into the girls' bathroom of the FBI headquarters and fucked him silly. Then another time you sent nudes to him on the FBI jet basically forcing him to jack off in the jar bathroom only 3 feet away from his team. In other words, He was just as addicted.

You were high in the clouds, somewhere on another planet as you rode his cock harder, trying to get you both off even throughout your body's exhaustion. Your body felt as though it had been set on fire, kicked around, and then kissed softly. Then suddenly, the fire had cooled over with one simple sound. Spencer's phone.

You stopped your movements, both you and Spencer looking at his phone that was set on his nightstand. The feeling of your climaxes far away now, being ripped away by the sound that echoed through the room. You both had heard that sound too often, been woken up by it in the cold hours of the night, been haunted by it everywhere you went. It felt like someone always needed Spencer more than you needed him, this was a fight you both had often. You looked over at Spencer, his eyes glassy but written with shock. You hoped that Spencer would ignore it just this once, allowing you both to orgasm finally before he decided to run away from you again. No... only that would happen in a perfect world, Spencer was going to take the call. You knew what you were getting into before you started dating Spencer, but that doesn't mean you have to like it. Spencer gave you a sympathetic look, causing you to slouch over and sigh.

"It's Hotch. " He said simply, his hand reaching for his phone as his other one drew circles on your hip as a way to apologize. "I'm sorry, I have to take it."

You were beyond upset, your heart tightly in your chest as you could feel yourself fighting not to cry, you silently cursed yourself for being a crier when frustrated. Not only is your boyfriend choosing work over you but you are also so close to cumming, so close to that release you've needed all week. You rolled your eyes, pulling your long shirt down angrily as you popped yourself off Spencer.

"Fine, answer your boyfriend...." You plopped down on the bed next to Spencer, watching him cover himself with the covers and looking over at you.

He was about to say something but decided not to fight about it. He sat up, leaning his back against the headboard as he pressed the phone to his ear. Even the sound of his voice as he said "hello" created a deep ache in your stomach, your failed orgasm lingering as you pouted next to Spencer. You knew how much this job meant to Spencer, but it just wasn't fair in your eyes. He just got home not even an hour ago yet his team wants him back? When do you get a turn to be with him? You wondered if any of this was actually even worth it, this deep pain you felt in your chest. You loved Spencer so much it hurt but you can't take much more of this frustration that has built up over the months. Even in your own home, you couldn't have him to yourself... not even for a night.

"Yeah, I made sure Penelope sent that to you..." Spencer spoke, the conversation having no significance to you, only the fact that this interrupted your much-needed cock riding session. "I'll have her resend it if you can't find it."

You sighed softly, watching the ceiling as you waited patiently for the call to be over even though you weren't even sure if you wanted to continue what you had started. You were too upset now and you would become more upset after the 30-minute phone call Spencer just had to take. That gave you an idea, an idea that would fix both of your problems... almost like killing two birds with one stone type situation. You sat up once more, looking back at Spencer as he spoke and he paid no attention to you... clearly in his own little world.

"The records didn't show that, he must've gotten them removed somehow." Spencer continued, completely oblivious to your nasty idea.

You innocently smiled over at him as he spoke, a new coat of slick pooling on the bed below you. You shifted yourself back into the position you were in right before the phone call. Spencer gave you a quick smile, thinking that maybe you were just being affectionate. His smile sent a rush through your body, the feeling that he will soon be as frustrated as you are finding its way down to your core. Your anger had completely turned you bitter, you're tired and sexually frustrated so you would give anything just to see an ounce of just that on Spencer's face.

You started it off innocent, giving him soft kisses on his cheeks and his neck. He didn't notice it really, too focused on Hotch's voice to even consider what you were doing. Hotch had asked Spencer about a case report he did, the case was a very tedious one and Spencer's report wasn't completely coherent to those who read it. Although Spencer's reports are never really understood by the reader, he usually went on rants and snuck in small statics that he never actually cited... but the bottom line is that because of Spencer's genius brain, this call was going to be a long one. You would probably end up falling asleep waiting for him to finish it, you had work in the morning and couldn't afford to work on lack of sleep like Spencer did.

You sucked softly on his neck, kissing and lapping at his neck that was already painted with bite marks that you created earlier tonight. Spencer placed a hand on your hip, rubbing it softly once again as you covered his neck with love marks, something that he will definitely scold you for tomorrow. You didn't really care too much if you're honest, all you were worried about at the moment was getting off. So cock hungry it almost hurt as your stomach was still tight with that coil that almost came undone not even 15 minutes ago.

You couldn't help yourself but grind softly against Spencer, your bare cunt rubbing against Spencer's cock. He wasn't expecting this movement, groaning softly as your warmth teased his already throbbing cock. Spencer squeezed your hip, his nails softly digging into your soft skin as a way to tell you to stop. If that didn't do it, his scolding face would. You took your face away from his neck, giving him innocent eyes as he continued to scold you, saying something to hotch as you bit your lip softly. You stopped your movements for only a second before you ground down harder on him, this time his hardened cock softly entering your wet cunt.

"Yeah umm...." Spencer stuttered out to Hotch, trying to stifle his moan. "Hey hotch, give me a second..."

Spencer waited for Hotch's response before he took the phone away from his ear and muted himself. He looked up at you, trying to be stern with you but couldn't help the blush that had risen on his cheek. It's not that Spencer didn't want you or wanted Hotch to call him in the middle of fucking you, but this was important and he needed to do his job. He understood that maybe you wouldn't understand that, anyone with a working brain wouldn't understand why his work was so important to him, so he tried to be sympathetic with you. The weight of this job was enough on him so he did everything in his power not to affect you, but some things are unavoidable... He knew you didn't sign up for this. So he understood your behavior, how frustrating this could be for the love of his life.

"Look, I'll hurry the phone call, okay?" He gave you a grin, leaning up to peck your lips softly. The kiss was supposed to be innocent but you were far from an innocent mood. You turned it into a hard, passion-filled kiss hoping that it would make Spencer put the phone down and give you what you needed... but of course, Spencer pulled away. "Y/n... This is important, give me 15 more minutes then I'll do whatever you want."

He sighed softly, putting the phone back to his ear and continuing his conversation with Hotch as if nothing had happened. The word "important" sent shivers down your spine, what did he consider important? Was his job more important than his lonely girlfriend or were you just not enough for him to want so badly he would drop everything? You knew some men who would ruin their lives for even just a glimpse of your tits. So why wasn't Spencer hopping to the opportunity? The insecurity sat hard on your stomach, dancing around with the coil and the anger that resided in the pit of your belly. You huffed softly, sitting back on your knees as you watched Spencer completely ignore you and continue on with his conversation like you weren't sitting there with your legs open for him.

You would consider yourself a level-headed person, knowing that sometimes things just happen and you were okay with it most of the time but tonight... Your brattiness really decided to make an appearance. You bite your lip, placing your hand on Spencer's chest, looking up at him to see a reaction. He had none, completely immersed in the phone call to notice your dirty intentions. You slowly dragged your hand down his chest, watching his eyes to see if they even had a glimpse of a reaction. He had none until you made it to his lower stomach, his eyes on yours as he raised a brow.

"Well we found out he was a necrophiliac, that's why he killed before the initial penetration." He said into the phone, explaining something about the case that you didn't even want to know about.

If someone had told you that you would be trying to get in a quickie while your boyfriend talked about necrophilia, you would have laughed in their face. But you prevailed and you continued your hands' path to the part you really wanted. Spencer took the hand that was placed on your waist, placing it on your hand to stop you. This bratty side of you was something Spencer had never seen, it wasn't a complete turn-off to him... frustrating? A bit, but not the bad kind of frustration. You batted your eyes up at Spencer, taking his hand in yours before bringing it up under your shirt. His hand shook as you placed it on your bare chest, but Spencer continued his conversation with Hotch like nothing was happening.

You took your other hand, placing it on his cock and pumping it a few times. Spencer's eyes flutter shut, leaning his head against the headboard as he listens to Hotch speak. Spencer had no idea why he couldn't resist you right now, maybe this entire situation frustrated him as much as it did you. Maybe he didn't want to be bothered by the BAU while home with you. You lined Spencer's cock to your entrance, basking in his reaction and how he couldn't push down the ache he felt in his cock. You were swift with it, sitting all the way down on his cock in just one thrust. Spencer groaned once again, his eyes widened as he forgot who was on the other side of the phone. He apologized on the phone, telling Hotch he needed to mute himself for a split second again.

"Y/n..." He moaned softly, holding your hip to keep you in place. As much as you looked pretty right now, he needed to finish this call up without distraction. "I really need to talk to Hotch, okay? he needs me.." He was interrupted by a moan escaping his throat as you thrust harshly onto him, your bratty behavior making him throb inside you already.

"Then talk to Hotch..." You said simply as if you weren't riding his cock at the moment. You smirked, looking him dead in the eye while you cock warmed him. "Just pretend I'm not here... you can do that right?"

Spencer sighed softly, shifting himself as he slowly gave into you but pieces of him knew he was needed on the job. You weren't going to let up, you both needed this more than Spencer even knew. The other night when Spencer was in an unknown city, you had called him before he went to bed like you normally do. You could hear the stress in his voice, the same stress that coated his words this entire night. The only thing that could chip away at that stress was you sending him a titty pic and verbally fucking him to sleep, explaining to him exactly what you would do if you were there. He needed this and you would happily give it to him, however, if he said no you would back off obviously... but you weren't hearing him wanting you to stop.

"I can finish this call later." He said, taking his hand from your shirt and putting it back down on your hip before going to dive back into the call. "I'll just tell him I need a moment and hang up okay." He looked up at you for your approval.

"No!" You spit out, the idea of fucking Spencer while talking to his boss was slightly very arousing but also he made his bed... might as well lay in it. Spencer looked at you with his brows furrowed, wondering why suddenly you were so upset. "You decided to answer him, so you finish your fucking call... I swear if you hang up I'll stop, you'll be going to bed with a hard cock..."

Spencer was massively turned on by the tone of your voice, the bratty behavior is something he could get used to. You were just really tired, mentally and physically. The only way to get your boyfriend to notice you was to practically scream for it, it exhausted you how much you had to scream. Spencer thought for a moment, was this really something he wanted to get fired over? Fuck yes... he brought the phone back to his ear, continuing his conversation with Hotch. You smiled, leaning down to peck his cheek softly. His own smile is brought to his face by your actions.

You once again laid your hands on Spencer's chest, helping yourself roll your hips onto Spencer. You didn't know how this would go simply because Spencer was extremely vocal and had a hard time covering it up. However, Spencer didn't actually want to get fired so he kept quiet, putting a hand on his mouth when not speaking or biting his lip so hard it bled. You could have gone slow, teasing him like he did you every chance he got but the coil in your stomach hurt so bad you needed this release. Your hips sped up once more, going as fast as you could which was not as fast as you would have thought. It was a steady pace, allowing Spencer's cock to hit the spongy area once more.

"We found his car, a blue Toyota Camry..." He spoke, his mind not even comprehending what he was saying due to how hard you were slamming yourself onto him. Clearly, he had got a detail wrong due to the fact he quickly apologized to Hotch immediately after saying it. "I mean a gray Toyota Corolla... sorry."

You laughed softly at his mistake, knowing only your pussy could have the genius with an eidetic memory to forget something. You continued your thrust, leaning down to bury your face into his neck, knowing that you were just as loud as Spencer and if you didn't then Hotch would definitely hear. Spencer dug his nails into your hip, a way to stop himself from crying out loud as he listened to Hotch, his soft moans still escaping his lips. It was clear that Hotch had said something about his behavior, his soft noises on the other side of the phone. Spencer racked his brain for an excuse, landing on something so stupid but believable.

"yeah, I'm just jet-lagged and I think I ate something bad on the plane..." He lied, moaning in the middle of his sentence. His voice became more high-pitched, hinting that he was going to cum any minute. "I'm okay..." he finished.

You placed a hand in his hair, pulling it slightly as you continued to ride him. Your hips burned, your vision blurry and your legs shaking, you didn't know if you would stop due to bursting at the seams or pure exhaustion. You were now trying to quietly get the both of you off, hoping that Hotch would believe Spencer's very weak excuse. You bit and sucked on his neck, leaving more love bites there, knowing that Hotch might actually put the pieces together tomorrow when Spencer showed up looking as though he spent a night with a vampire.

"Gonna cum..." You whispered into his ear, you tightened around him. The coil in your stomach burning with the ache to come undone and this time Spencer's phone wasn't going to stop it.

Spencer went quiet, knowing that if he said more than 3 words at a time he wouldn't be able to stop the curses and moans that escaped within himself. Your thrusts became sloppy, your body exhausted as you tried to get that coil within you to snap... and it finally did. You moaned loudly into Spencer's neck, his hand coming to meet your head to stuff your face further into his skin to silence you. Your walls contracted around spencers cock, sending shocks through your sweaty body as you fucked yourself through your orgasm and slowly inched Spencer to his own.

Spencer pulled the phone away from his ear, coming undone only seconds after you. You could feel his hot cum drench your walls, his moans not being able to be silenced any longer. Hotch could definitely hear what was going on, his clear confusion being heard from his phone as he asked if Spencer was okay. Spencer forgot where he was for a minute, he forgot that he was on an important phone call or that he was a genius FBI agent with a duty to protect but instead, he is fooling around with his girlfriend instead of listening to his boss. He kissed your neck softly, the words "thank you" slipping from his tongue and echoing through your brain. You just sent him a smile and brought his lips to yours, hands on his cheeks as you slipped your tongue into his mouth.

"Spencer?" Hotch asked, his voice now filling the stuffy room. Spencer then remembered what he was doing moments before his orgasm, picking up his phone and putting it to his ear.

"Hey sorry hotch!" Spencer said, embarrassment filling his body. You chuckled softly, reaching your hand down to slip Spencer out of you. "yeah no, I'm fine! Like I said, I ate some bad food... I've been throwing up all night... Do you mind if I call you back later?" He asked, this made your ears perk up.

You hoped this meant you two could go a few uninterrupted rounds before falling asleep. You watched Spencer's lips as he spoke to Hotch, saying his goodbyes and apologizing for his sudden sickness. You couldn't help yourself but peck his lips with yours, he talked to Hotch through your kisses until eventually he pulled the phone away and set it on his nightstand. You pecked his lips once more but this time Spencer held your lips on his, continuing your passionate kiss from earlier.

"Are you trying to get me fired?" He chuckled out through kisses, his lips trailing down to your neck like you did to him only minutes ago.

You sat on that question for a minute, knowing that he loved his job but maybe his being fired wasn't the worst idea. No, you were just being selfish, you only wanted him home so you could have him whenever you wanted. You giggled, his lips attaching to your neck as you let his words sink in.

"No..." You finally said, pulling at his hair once more. "i just want you to fuck me without being interrupted... that so much to ask?"

Spencer rubbed your thighs softly, bringing his hands up to the hem of your shirt and yanking it off. Your breast sprang free and he didn't hesitate to start kissing and sucking on them. You could feel yourself wanting to cum again just by his lips attached to your sensitive nipples. You two were definitely going to go multiple rounds tonight, something about being caught by Hotch made Spencer go crazy... almost like he was doing something very illegal. You moaned softly into the air, grinding your hips onto Spencer once more as his mouth worked magic on your chest. Just when you were brought to the stars once more...

The piercing scream of his phone filled the room once more, halting both of your movements. You both looked at each other, then to the phone as Spencer looked to see who it was. Your anger came over you again, but this time it was going to end in a mind-blowing orgasm... no it would end with Spencer packing his shit and spending the night at the office. Spencer plopped his phone back down, going back to leaving kisses on your chest.

"They can wait..."  

[bonesandchalamet]

in this world, it’s just us — Finnick odair

masterlist | pairing: Finnick odair x reader

summary: in a world where hunger games don’t exist anymore it’s just you and Finnick

warnings: fluff

a/n: finally writing for finnick 🤭

you can hear his breath escape his lips, it’s faint, but it’s all that matters. he’s alive in your arms and in your bedroom.

nights were never the same, consisting of some form of him muttering incoherent words, legs thrashing, and thick sweat glistening against the sheets. the hunger games haunt him, even in a world where he’s safe.

there’s no president snow, there’s no more kids being hunted by others. the odds were in everyone’s favor, and people could sleep well again. except those in their respected districts victors villages.

the soft grunt that escapes his lips indicates he’s awake now. he rolls carefully onto his side, almost like he doesn’t want wake you, but you’ve been awake for some time. reflecting on what the nights could’ve been if finnick never was picked at such a young age.

“you’re doing it again.” he mutters, you feel him shift closer to you, his warm clammy skin pressed against yours, “you’re thinking about the if’s.”

he tsk’s you, and yanks the covers off your bodies to reveal the cool air of the house. it feels nice, after tossing and turning in the heat trapped sheets, you allow yourself to stretch out against the mattress and watch finnick rise for the day.

no day was ever the same, but finnick needed a new task everyday, or else he’d go insane. he needed to occupy himself from the loss and maybe even the ache. you never knew, he was a closed book about his experiences.

you watch him gather around to fish, a typical morning routine despite the overflowing amount of food in your house. you never objected or asked him not to go, it was the one thing finnick enjoyed and he could now do so freely. who were you to stop him?

“can I join you?” the words slip your mouth without a second guess, and he’s stopping in his tracks. you’ve never taken up much of an interest in fishing, not since you didn’t have to do so anymore, but you loathed sitting around waiting for him to return. plus, it gave you something to do as well.

“you better hurry.”

scurrying out of bed, you find yourself rushing with the sunrise and finnicks personal clock, but by the time you’re down by the water, no one else is even there and the sun is just starting to rise.

“what’s the plan?” you ask, turning to face him he’s got a trident in his hand, his typical choice of weapon that somehow made it back to district four along with him.

“we hunt, we go home, and then we eat.” he says offering a small smile before moving carefully and slowly into the water. he moves with such precision, careful not to alarm the fish. any movement and they’ll scatter along. you watch him hunt for awhile until it’s your turn, you don’t come up as lucky as he does, but he still applauds the three fish you killed.

“now we eat and save some for dinner.” he smiles, content with the couple hours of work done. without telling, it’s most likely noon and your stomach was reminding you of the lack of food in your stomach.

the hike home doesn’t take long and Finnick is cooking while you shower. the warm water trickles down your back, soothing away the morning worries. you take longer than you normally do, just to enjoy the silence your mind finally gives you before turning off the water.

emerging from the shower, he’s leaning in the doorway. a cocky smile against his lips that if it weren’t for his beauty, you’d attempt anyway to erase it.

“you think about me in there?”

“never in a million years would I think about you in my shower.” you pick up a soft towel, running the fabric all across your body and through the ends of your hair. out the corner of your eye, you can still see that smile. the smile that every girl falls for when finnick would enter a room. he’s easy to like, bright eyes, beautiful smile, golden blond hair, and an ego so big sometimes it’s adorable, other times? not so much.

“you’re awful at lying. it’s actually one of your worst traits.”

“and you’ve got an awfully big ego, it’s one of your worst traits.” you fire back with a smile on your face leaving him to roll his eyes and tell you lunch was waiting for you.

In this world, it's just us

You know it's not the same as it was

[vibingandsimping]

This is exactly who you think it is. 🦜🦜

Might I request the origin characters (+ Halsin) of your choice caring for a burnt out/sick Tav?

Hello! I shall call you bird anon…

(Leave me and my family alone)

But ask and you shall receive! Requests/thoughts always make my day.

Origin characters + extra companions taking care of an exhausted reader pt. 1

No forewarnings besides maybe some suggestive mentions and a little angst. Mostly all fluff + comfort… barely proofread

Characters included in this part: Astarion, Gale, Lae’zel and Jaheira

Astarion

Astarion, when you present him with the problem after his insistent pestering, is a little lost. Everyone has their breaking points and their limits. You just held a confident front for so long that he started to believe you truly lacked one. He suggests the pleasures of the flesh at first. “To ease that pretty mind,” he claims with a smirk. You can tell in his gaze it’s his default- he was used for his body for so long it’s clear he’s unsure of what else to say. A bit of frustration with both him and his past bubbles up. It hurts to know he values himself that little and at the same time… it’s frustrating that he thinks it will solve anything. After a curt “No thank you.” he seems to deflate a bit. You stalk off to your tent as he watches from afar.

He sat with himself as he contemplated his abilities. You’d done so much for him over the period of time you’d known each other. Quite frankly, he hates to say it but he’s realized he’s taken you for advantage. He reminisces over the times you’d let him feed and he has had his nose pressed into your skin. How he’d inhale your scent and memorize it with your blood. He broods over it for a little before beginning to test different scents and oils. What he believed would work with your body chemistry and what he knew you liked.

It’s an hour or so later when you hear slow footsteps. Whoever it was made their presence known, so as to not scare you with a sudden intrusion. You’d been laying with your head in silence and the dark due to how it throbbed. Everything seemed so loud and overwhelming. He speaks smoothly and announces his arrival, you just grunt in acknowledgment. It seems to amuse him as he laughs gently and places something on the ground. Which? You’re unsure- and you could care less to check right now. It’s only when you hear the flick of a match and the room illuminates that you peek. He has a couple of wax candles laid out that seem to be dripping in mixtures. He smiles at you in such a way that you push suspicions aside. The room flickers with the light of the candles. “Relax. I made these special for you. Just focus on them and let the world wash away.” You watch him for a minute more as he lights the candles and the scent grows stronger as it burns with the wax. At first, it also overwhelmed you. You decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and focus on taking deep breaths. With each inhale, you draw more of it into your lungs and feel your muscles slack. Whatever he used was working wonders to calm your body and ease your mind. He did miss his calling as a perfumer.

The feeling of cold hands on your neck tenses your so delicately relaxed frame. His voice comes out in a shush, making you shiver from the tone. The way his fingers move so slowly tells you he’s holding a part of him back. It’s likely the reflex to make things more… intimate. A part of you swells knowing that he is trying a more simple intimacy on you. Thumbs dig into the tense muscles until they’re worked from the stiffness. Soft moans of content escape your throat. Though, just the same are the groans of pain when he reaches a more tender spot. “You’re lucky you have such a caring companion.” He muses half-heartedly, an attempt to make you smile. It did, matter of fact. You’re sure he knows because his movements become more confident. You drop your head back into your pillow and breathe out a sigh. He didn’t say anything but you could feel his eyes on your back. It was quite comforting to know he was there if you needed it. You eventually drift into a half-conscious state as he works your tender flesh. By the time he’s left you to rest you were already asleep.

Gale

Gale’s watchful eye concluded your growing burnout long before it settled in. He was a wizard- a man who studied for a living. He understood frustration and burnout. He’s faced it many times before… and it’s never an easy thing. When you settle down at the camp for the night, he can’t seem to get his eye off you. You walk around slowly and seem out of it. The man sits in his thoughts for a moment longer and decides to make his way over to you. You, of all people, deserved to have a moment to relax and truly replenish your mind. His hand makes contact with your arm and you’re snapped from your daze. He gazes down at you with a softness and silently asks you to follow him. You’re too worn down to argue and just nod.

He winds you out of the forest and towards a still lake. A drinking deer turns and shoots out from its spot when you two arrive. You quirk an eyebrow at him and he bashfully smiles. “Water is soothing to the mind and muscle. I’ll take care of you- let me.” The moonlight dappling the water is tempting and he seems harmless enough with his request. You relent and begin to slowly peel the clothing off your body. Turning back around you stride into the water only to find it pleasantly warm. It was almost hot- glancing up at him as he removed his robe, you knew he tampered with magic to heat the water. You’re not complaining though. It’s already doing wonders to work out the aches in your muscles. He slides in behind you and asks you permission to touch you. You hummed approval as you closed your eyes and put your trust in him.

He lathers his hands with soap and begins to work your muscles along your back. Simultaneously massaging gently and washing you clean. His fingers work from your neck to your shoulder blades, down your spine, and to your legs. He slowly turns you around so he can repeat the same process down your front. He’s careful around your more intimate areas, eyeing you cautiously to gauge what’s too much. It feels nice to be doted on and not have to bathe yourself for once. You’re sure he knows it, too. Then, he whispers for permission to do your hair. You barely speak and instead hum once more. He chuckles a little before wrapping an arm around you and one under your head. He dips you into the water until your hair is thoroughly soaked and pulls you back up. Like that, he begins to lather shampoo into your scalp. His fingers work wonders and you moan a little. The moment is gone too soon for your preference and he’s washing it out.

After a minute more of holding you in the water as he rinses you off, he guides you out. You almost protest like a child, wishing to relish the hot water a little longer. He hands you a large linen cloth and you dry yourself off. Squeezing your hair until it no longer drips annoyingly and wrapping it around yourself to conceal your intimates. He follows alongside you back into camp and you head into your tent. He lingers beside you while you settle down and gather some night clothes. Then, as soon as the eyes are noticed, he leaves you to your own devices. You manage to get to sleep surprisingly easily and the night passes mostly peacefully. In the morning, your previous clothes are folded neatly outside your tent. They’re clean and practically spotless. Gale must’ve taken the time to wash them while you slept and hung them to dry overnight.

Lae’zel

Lae’zel’s instinct is to scold you for showing weakness. Githyanki are warriors and have no time to tend to the frail. Yet, you’ve proven anything but frail in the time she’s known you. She’s utterly torn and wears it on her face obviously. You’re unsure why you turned to her for comfort, it was obviously a mistake. You sigh exasperatedly and trail off as she watches. You almost make it to your tent before her hand wraps around your wrist and tugs you to look at her. “Battle me,” she speaks blatantly. “Githyanki soothe their mind and body with battle. It is all I know to do. Battle me.” There’s a desperation in her voice. She cannot stand to see you so exhausted and fed up. You squint at her and almost protest that all the battling you’ve done is what led you to this point. The expression she held deterred you. You complied in the end.

She leads you into a dirt clearing and unsheathes her sword. Her face is like the steel she holds in her grasp and you ready yourself. There’s a moment of silence and anticipation that hangs in the air as you two lock eyes. She makes the first move, launching towards you and missing the side of your face by a few inches. You retaliate and dig your weapon of choice into her side. She grits her teeth as she is sent sprawling a few feet away. The girl gives you little time to react. Her next attack flies at you and you two are a clash of steel and flesh. There’s an adrenaline that elicits your veins and your head clears. The worries of taking care of everyone fade and you focus solely on your sparring partner. It’s like a second wind that envelops your body. It takes you a few hits until you realize she’s purposefully leaving herself open and using weaker moves.

She was allowing you to win. To taste her blood and victory in battle. You’re almost insulted if it weren’t so flattering that she was laying herself openly for you. You lay a final hit on her and she kneels with her head bowed. The two of you pant as wounds seep blood. Nothing is too deep and can easily be fixed by bandage or magic. She pulls herself to her feet and smiles softly at you. “A formidable opponent. You underestimate your power.” It was her form of a compliment, you supposed. She then followed you back into camp and sat you down. She runs a wet rag along your scrapes and cuts. The crimson washes off and leaves the wounds exposed to the fresh air. The githyanki is gentle in her touch as she wraps them with a bandage and secures it in place. The muscles in your body flex as you test the hold before turning your attention to her. You go to tend her wounds but are met with a hand in your face. “I am fine. I am strong enough to take care of myself. You, on the other hand, need to recover to lead us onward.”

You quirk a brow at her before pulling away and allowing the campfire to warm your bones. She works deftly on sealing her wounds and you can’t help but feel a little rejuvenated. It wasn't pampering of sorts- but she cared. She tried her best to show it and that’s truly what mattered. She fought against her nature to shame you and instead attempted to cure your ailments. She was rough around the edges but had a soft heart. The thought made you smile softly as you watched the shadows of fire dance along her olive-green skin. She catches your gaze for a moment and seems flustered. “Go rest.” She commands softly and you laugh breathlessly. It takes you a moment to get to your feet but you manage it. Some sleep would surely help repair the worst of it as long as you took it easy the next day.

Jaheira

Jaheira was an older elf. She could spot the telltale signs of wear. Whether that be mental or physical. She took care of her harpers for just about as long as she could recall at this point. It felt nice to not have to be the one in charge- but maybe she took too much comfort in it. A little guilt weighed in her heart. Too late to dwell, though, you needed assistance. The crackle of the fire was all that could be heard as you sat in front of it. You were still- seemingly lost in thought. She groaned a little as she lowered herself to a seat. Her knees weren’t as they used to be. The sound alerted your mind and you snapped out of it to look at the woman. She smiled softly at you and handed you a goblet. In her other hand was a bottle of wine and her own goblet. “Do not worry, no funny games this time. Just something to unwind.” You scrunch your nose a little before grabbing it.

The bottle uncorks and she pours a glass for you two. It’s not the finest wine but certainly was much better than the gruel served at the tiefling party. You draw your knees to your chest and take a long sip. After she takes a sip of her own she clicks her tongue in thought. Her gaze isn’t on you but on the campfire as she begins to speak. “You are more powerful than you know,” she begins and you look at her from the corner of your eye. “I’ve seen it firsthand. You vanquished the curse of the shadowlands and defeated Ketheric Thorm. I am surprised you didn’t succumb to exhaustion sooner.” You tense, almost expecting it to be an insult. Her softness of tone betrays that thought. “You need to rely on your friends and company more. We are here to help. We care. I care.” She enunciates the last word by looking at you. You can’t help but feel a soft fuzz blooming in your chest. Was it her words or the alcohol?

“I took care of my harpers for a century or more. It is hard work to look after the well-being of everyone else and yourself. I think I became too comfortable in letting you guide me. I apologize for that, truly.” You open your mouth to speak but she shushes you with a point of her goblet. That gesture makes you flush a little and take a sip of your wine once more. “I have seen many people in my life. I have lost many people in my life. You are among some of the most… wonderful I have seen. I will be damned if I lose you to anything beyond yourself.” She smiles at you, the age lines on her face only speaking to how truthful she is being. You can’t help but feel relaxed by both the influence of the alcohol and her words. You realize anything you say would be practically pointless. So, you just shuffle to her side and press against her. She hums in satisfaction and wraps an arm around you. You can hear her swallowing her wine more clearly. There’s a comfortable silence that is punctuated occasionally by the crackling of the fire.

“Another pour?” She offers as she holds the bottle and you cannot help but laugh while gesturing your goblet. Indulging for a night hurt nobody and hell you deserved it. She refills the two glasses and rests her head against yours. There’s a mutual understanding of comfort and connection between you two as you sip and watch the fire. It’s nice to not have to say anything in return. To be able to simply sit and digest the fact that somebody appreciates the fact that you work so tirelessly for them and everyone around you. It’s only til your goblets empty again does she finally pull away and cork the wine. You stand and allow the buzz of the alcohol to warm your veins and loosen your mind. She offers a hand out with a sheepish smile, “Help a gal up?” you tease her for a minute and grab her hand as she hoists herself off the ground. She regards you with a softness and plants a gentle kiss against your forehead. You two part and head to your respective tents to sleep the night away.

[katherines-imagines]

“Stupid bitches, be stupid bitches.”

pairings: hazel callahan x reader

warnings: angst, fighting, mean PJ, bad writing

summary: PJ starts yelling at Hazel, but her girlfriends not having it.

A meeting was called for the fight club after their revenge on Jef. As the girls started coming in, each had a mischievous yet proud smile adorning their faces. Y/N walked towards the back where her girlfriend, Hazel, was saving a seat for her. Sitting down, Y/N took Hazel’s hand into her own, playing with her silver rings. When everyone arrived, PJ began to speak.

“Alright, well, some of us clearly have a different definition of egging.” The girls gave each other knowing looks. “But if we keep our mouth shut, stay calm, we’ll be fine,” PJ finished.

“They’re gonna shut us down, aren’t they,” Sylvie asked sadly.

“What,” PJ laughed nervously. “No, we don’t know that. Why-”

“Principal Meyers will believe whatever Jeff and Tim say,” Brittany pointed out. “I don’t really see how we recover from this.” She was right, and all the girls knew it. As much as they could hope that the club would continue, after their little stunt, the club would be shut down.

“Man. Fuck,” Sylvie sad dejectedly.

“It’s been real guys,” Hazel said, looking bittersweetly to the group. Her girlfriend lovingly tracing her hands, nodding in agreement.

“Okay,” PJ interrupted. “Let’s not jump to conclusions with the, goodbyes,” she waved her arms around.

“I’m gonna miss you guys so much,” Hazel said, ignoring PJ. Y/N’s heart felt heavy from the break up for the group. These were her friends. This was her safe space. Now it would end, but she didn’t regret joining at all, and that made it all the more bittersweet.

“I’m like,” Sylvie started while standing up. “At least we went out with a bang,” Sylvie referred to the bomb Hazel made, causing the group to laugh sans PJ and Josie. “I mean, that was fucking insane!” The group laughed louder. “It’s just like, fire, everywhere” she continued, playfully hitting the girls.

“Wait, wh, stop,” PJ stuttered. “We don’t, wait, no, we don’t know that for sure,” PJ tried to deny, but the girls had already accepted it.

“PJ,” Annie stopped her with a sad smile. “Don’t be sad it’s over. Be happy it happened,” she smiled towards the fight club members, them smiling back.

“Alright, can everyone calm the fuck down please,” PJ said exasperatingly. “The club is not over, Josie? Right?” PJ motioned to her best friend, a hand motioning in her direction. Josie kept silent, PJ turning in disbelief at the lack of answer.

“No matter what,” Isabel started. “This club has brought me so much. I feel..” She took a deep breath before continuing. “So much more powerful, and, protected.”

“Me too,” Josie agreed, eyes showing vulnerability like the rest of the girls. PJ let out a sarcastic laugh

“Great,” PJ said. Hazel, tired of her attitude, interrupted her.

“Oh my god PJ, okay,” Hazel stood abruptly, her hand leaving Y/N’s grasp, causing her to jump at the sudden movement. “I’m sorry you didn’t get what you wanted out of this group, but I think the rest of us did.” She motioned towards the girls with a smile.

“Oh,” PJ spoke sarcastically. “Good for fucking you Hazel.” Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed, not liking how PJ was speaking to her girlfriend. “I’m glad that you finally wrote one email. Accomplished a lot.”

“I actually did, I practically ran this club for you and Josie,” Hazel said frustratedly. Y/N nodded harshly in support.

“Let’s calm down, maybe,” Josie said, trying to deescalate the situation, but it was too late for that.

“You really think that your the reason that we have this club,” PJ asked rudely.

“The reason? No, but I can tell everyone that if you want,” Hazel shot back. The girls heads snapped to Hazel at the comment, none of them expecting Hazel to have a mean bone in her body. Y/N stood up next to her girlfriend, hand going to the small of her back in support. As much as Y/N wanted to tear PJ a new one, she knew that Hazel had to do this part, at least, by herself.

“Hazel, uh hey, let’s calm down,” Josie said to Hazel. Y/N glared at Josie. Clearly PJ was the one who needed to calm down, not Hazel.

“You’re really ungrateful,” PJ snapped at her. “You’re so lucky that we even let you be a part of this.” How dare PJ try and glorify herself?

“PJ, your a liar.” A silence followed after Hazel’s retort, eyes turning to PJ for an explanation. PJ scoffed in disbelief.

“Yeah, well,” PJ started. Y/N had a feeling that the next few words that would come out of PJ’s mouth would make Y/N’s patience snap. “You have no friends, and a skank as a mom, so,” PJ smiled maliciously, as Josie looked at her feet. As the girls stared quietly, Y/N yelled at PJ.

“How dare you say that? She has friends, and you have no right so say something so atrocious to her,” Y/N said angrily, while Hazel stared in disbelief at PJ. Before Y/N could continue, Hazel looked at her friends in pain before picking up her stuff. Y/N followed Hazel’s lead, picking up her and her girlfriend’s stuff before following Hazel down the bleachers. Before leaving the gym, Y/N went to PJ’s face and spoke coldly, “If you every say shit like that again, I’ll fuck you up. Don’t you ever, disrespect her.” Shoving PJ with her shoulder, Y/N followed Hazel out the gym. While the rest of the girls watched them leave, Josie calling out for Hazel. When Y/N caught up to Hazel’s fast walking, she stayed quite. After a few minutes of walking quietly, Hazel spoke softly.

“What did you say, hun,” Y/N asked softly, not hearing what Hazel had said.

“Could you please hold my hand,” she shakily asked, quiet tears streaming down her face. Instead of answering, Y/N simply took Hazel’s hand in her own, comfortingly rubbing her thumb across her girlfriend’s hand. They walked in silence before Y/N spoke up.

“She’s a bitch.” Hazel let out a startled laugh of disbelief. “And not even a good one like me,” Y/N added, hesitantly looking at Hazel to see if it was ok to talk. Hazel laughed quietly, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. Y/N stopped the pair, Hazel looking curiously for the reason why. Y/N dropped their bags and took of her jacket, using the sleeve to wipe Hazel’s tears before putting it on Hazel. When Y/N picked up their bags, she took Hazel’s hand and continued to walk. “Don’t listen to her Haze. You know what they say about girls like her?” Y/N waiting until Hazel hummed in question.

“Stupid bitches, be stupid bitches.”

Hazel laughed loudly, hugging Y/N’s arm to stop her from falling.

“Y/N,” Hazel laughed.

“Hazel,” Y/N responded seriously. Well, semi-seriously. She couldn’t help the small smile growing on her mouth. Sighing gratefully, Hazel tugged on Y/N’s arm to stop.

“Thank you, love,” Hazel said, looking into Y/N’s eyes with love. Y/N swore she could feel her heart melt, warmth filling her up.

“Of course, pretty girl,” Y/N spoke softly, hugging her girlfriend tightly. Y/N was not going to let PJ get away with this.

No one spoke to her girl like that.

a/n: first imagine since I came back! if you have any requests from any fandom, please let me know. if I know the fandom, I will try and do it! Hope you guys like this one as much as I did.

[venusxstars]

𝐇𝐀𝐙𝐄 ⸻ nsfw.

nagi seishiro x fem!reader

nagi just thinks that you feel so good. nothing else other than that matters.

keynotes ⸻ reader with implied sagging breasts. implied body insecurities. breast fondling / sucking. fingering. penetration.

venus’ note ⸻ boobs of all different shapes and sizes are beautiful. no one can fight me on this one.

YOUR BREATH COMES OUT SHARP and ragged as you feel Nagi’s soft lips connect lazily against your neck, tongue running in small and slow circles on the skin before he gently nips on it. Your place on his lap was a constant thing, after all, Nagi wasn’t one to put effort into hovering himself on top of you whilst going through the trouble of balancing himself with his two elbows. He voiced out his concerns repeatedly the last time you both tried before settling back to your usual positions—you sitting snug on his lap as he sits comfortably on the couch with his broad back leaning against the soft rest.

You squeal as he suddenly lifts up your shirt and you instinctively move back, pulling your shirt back down. It was an irrational concern, truly, to hold such insecurities over breasts that functioned normally. But you didn’t like the way the weighed down above your abdomen whenever you’d sit down nor could you seem to get used to the image of them without your bra lifting them up more ‘attractively’.

See, lookism has become more prevalent along the recent years with the constant increase of the usage of social media that wordlessly promoted unattainable beauty standards. Everyone had their own certain charm to themselves, but with every comment thoughtlessly uttered, apparently certain groups of people had a surplus amount of it. And that only fed onto the irrational thoughts on your mind.

“What’s the matter?” Your boyfriend furrows his brows in genuine confusion. His hand moved down to clutch onto the edge of your shirt, frowning a little at the way you pulled them down.

You scratch the back of your neck awkwardly, looking away. “Can I keep my shirt on?”

He tilts his head, dark and round eyes gazing into yours quizzically. He speaks bluntly. “Why? … I mean, it’s your choice, but I wanna touch ‘em.”

You chuckle at the way the words roll out of his mouth with a certain lack of care and genuine confusion, and perhaps, that nearly enough to convince you out of your irrational thoughts completely. You cup his large hand that was still holding onto the shirt you were wearing before explaining softly. “It’s a weird reason, but I just don’t like the way they look.”

He nods in agreement at your first statement, looking down at your clothed breasts shamelessly, muttering. “It is a weird reason. Dunno, but they look fine to me. Besides… don’t really care, just wanna touch ‘em…”

He dips his head down onto the crook of your neck once again, breathing in your natural scent before kissing your skin lazily again. He mumbles quietly against your neck, slowly snaking his large hands up to grope your clothed breasts. He squeezes them gently before running his thumbs down onto your nipples that were poking against the shirt.

You breathe out shakily, holding onto his bare shoulders as he plays with your tits mindlessly. You see the way he subtly pulls back a little, head dipped down to stare intently at the way his own large hands were fondling with your soft breasts—the weight on his palm nearly satisfying him, along with the way the fabric of your shirt forms creases every time he squeezed.

“Come on… let me see ‘em, please…” His hands move a bit more roughly and you gasp at the movements. “S'not enough…”

This time, you don’t stop him when he lifts his shirt up completely above your head and throws it onto the floor. You don’t know what he’s thinking as he stares down at your tits wordlessly for a few seconds, dark eyes pinned on it without moving away for a single second. Finally, he snaps out of his stupor with a soft whine when you smack the back of his head lightly.

“Seishiro…” You begin to grumble. “What are you—”

You gasp when he suddenly dips his head down, lifting your breasts up a little with his hands, before sucking on the tips of your puffy nipples. You shudder, unconsciously tightening your legs around his waist as you pull yourself closer to him.

He groans quietly against your breast, looking up at your contorted expressions. “Looks fine to me, baby… so pretty, even. Feels good in my hands and mouth… Wonder how good my cock would feel between your tits…”

He presses his lips all over the surface of your chest—soft moans tumbling out of his own lips as if his own ministrations were pleasurable for himself—alternating between each of your breast. He sucks on the skin, leaving soft red marks in its wake, and soon, your breasts is painted with a harmony of colors like a simple abstract painting of the picturesque lust.

Your bodies are both hot, and you can feel the wetness seeping out of your pussy through your thin panties, leaving a patch on your boyfriend’s gray sweatpants. He pauses his ministrations to dip his hand down against your heat, cupping your clothed pussy completely.

“Ah, fuck… it’s so wet, baby” He mumbles, cheeks and ears dusted a light shade of rosy red. “Got some on my pants. Let’s take ‘em off…”

You lift your hips up as he pulls your underwear down and throwing them onto the floor before making a move to take off his own sweatpants. Soon, you’re both bare for each other to see and admire. You rub the side of your arm a bit shyly at the exposure especially with the bright fluorescent lights of the living room glaring down over your figures. It shows every single part of yourselves—every crevice and color marking your skin.

Nagi slowly reaches up to touch the back of your neck and push you forward to capture his lips with yours. It’s soft and gentle, just like how kisses between the two of you were always shared—exploring every part of each other through tongues slowly slipping in.

You pull away breathlessly. “Want more, Sei…”

“Me too…” He mumbles, immediately moving his fingers down against your pussy again. He rubs slow circles with his middle and ring finger around your wet clit, keeping his eyes trained on your face to watch your expression contort, presenting varying feelings of the pleasure he was providing you. He feels the wetness on the pads of his fingers, pressing them a little more against the area before slowly easing a finger in. His cock hardens, pressing against his lower abdomen as he hears your drawn-out moan dragging out of your parted lips.

“Got me so hard with those sounds, baby… let me hear some more…” He groans out softly, pumping his middle finger inside your pussy, searching for your g-spot. He moves in a little deeper, touching the bundle of nerves inside of you and rubbing it a little with the pad of his finger. He watches you jolt on top of him before deciding to do the same movement twice. Next, he pulls his finger back slowly, experimentally bumping the pad of his finger against the spot.

You were in cloud nine at his seemingly mindless and entertained movements, feeling every part of his finger with your walls clamping down on it tightly. Warmth spreads around under your belly and you can feel it building up with each passing second. You whine when he pulls his finger out again, watching him pump his cock slowly with his head thrown back against the back rest of the couch.

“W-Wait just a second, baby…” He gasps a little, pumping his cock that was oozing with pre-cum. It drips down on the length of his cock and he sighs before aligning the tip against your entrance. “Hurts so much— wanna be inside you so bad…”

He pushes his cock in and you both simultaneously let out a moan. It was thick inside of you and you can feel every single crevice and vein with your gummy walls clamping down on it as he slowly helps you ease down on his cock. His long fingers were digging down against your hips, pulling you down breathlessly until he’s completely sheathed inside of you.

You both take a short pause as you accommodate his length inside of you.

“You okay?” He asks a little breathlessly, chest rising and falling deeply. You can see him grind his teeth a little.

You nod after a while before slowly lifting your hips up again and dropping it with the same pace down on his cock. You furrow your brows, biting your lip at the pleasure that seemed to swarm throughout your lower body.

“H-Help…” You request as your thighs burned slightly at the continuous movements you were making. Obediently, he places his hands onto your ass, helping you lift and drop your hips against his.

“F-Fuck, s’good, baby…” He moans, watching the way you repeatedly bouncing on his dick. He lifts his gaze up and groans this time at the way your tits bounced along with the movements of your whole body. He moves his head forward, burying his face between the valley of your breasts, loving how the warmth engulfed his skin comfortingly. “Love your tits so much…”

He lifts and drops your hips a little faster, digging his fingers down on your ass more that it seemed to be leaving marks behind. His clouded mind and pleasure-filled body taking control of the pace each time he feels your soft yet tight walls squeeze and pulse around him deliciously.

“S-Sei!” You gasp, bouncing on his cock harder and following along with his wordless command.

“H-Huh? F-Fuck… yes, baby?” He bites his bottom lip hard, leaving it swollen and pink before he starts babbling between your bouncing chest. “Love having you fuck yourself on my dick like this… Wanna see you cum around my— c-cock, shiiit…”

He throws his head back, forcibly picking up the pace as he lifts and drops your hips on his cock before he then begins to meet your movements by thrusting his own hips up. The sound of skin-slapping fills the area along with the breathy moans leaving both of your lips.

“S’too fast, S-Sei— a-ah!” You gasp, mouth hanging open and eyes rolling back.

“Looks so f-fucked out, baby—” He groans out, thrusting his hips up faster and deeper inside of you as you meet his hips—the impact leaving your clit hard and aching as it slaps against his skin, sending waves of sharp delicious heat up and around your core.

“G-Gonna… gonna cum!” You moan, digging your nails against his shoulder as you suddenly twitch, pussy pulsing and walls clamping down hard around his cock. Your mind blanks when you reach your climax and you shudder as your boyfriend continues to move.

“S-Shit, got so tight… W-Wanna cum too—“ He buries his cock deep one last time before it twitches, then pulling out to shoot his milky white cum on your breasts. “H-Haah—”

You both pant loudly at the exertion then you drop your head down against his shoulder, laying against him limply and tiredly. You can hear his heart beat even with your ears up from where you were and you were certain that he could hear yours too.

“Thanks, Sei” You blurt out quietly.

“For what?” His words come out a little breathlessly.

“For everything”

You can feel him tilt his head and you chuckle when you hear him utter his response cluelessly.

“Don’t really know why you’re thanking me, but… no problem, I guess…”

[layraket]

Day 8 - Sleep Deprivation

Character(s): Four (LU)

Words: 1258

Summary: He doesn’t know what a normal sleep schedule is pls someone knock him out

Whump scale: 1 (see the full scale here)

Warning: Sleep disorders

This is kind of related with this post btw

Part 2 in Day 13

-

Not sleeping was a normal thing for him at this point. Since his first adventure staying up to keep going was almost daily, with only a small break when he couldn’t any more.

His grandpa has scolded him more than once for staying up too late at the forge, forcing him to stay at his room. At least the windows were never locked.

When his second adventure happened, sleeping become something optional.

His curiosity kept him awake during whole nights to continue an interesting book, his energy pleading him to practice with his sword, his heart aching for past memories, and his gut telling him to check if there weren’t any monster attacks around.

It was tiring after a certain point.

Since he joined the chain it was getting easier to sleep, the constant exercise being a big help for him to fall asleep during a full night. When it wasn’t enough, he would always ask to take a shift to keep guard and try to burn all the extra energy.

It worked, the first months.

After a while it suddenly became more and more difficult to sleep. It was after a fight with some weird wizzrobes that everything went down.

Four was hit by one of their spells, gladly it didn’t show any effects during the fight. They won and made camp as usual.

He took first shift, after all he didn’t feel like he could sleep easily tonight.

He called for Legend to take the second shift and went to his bedroll to try and fall asleep. He really tried, and failed.

When he realized it was already morning, the sun coming up in the horizon and light falling on the small clearing they were resting in.

Time was on last shift, and to not worry him he pretended to wake up from a really deep sleep. A whole night restless, it wasn’t new.

The next time he decided to not take any shifts, maybe that made his brain more alert than usual.

‘As usual’ do you mean us or your own mind? Both.

It wasn’t surprise that it didn’t work, another night without getting any sleep. He could keep the act up, it wasn’t hard to pretend being completely alert and no tired at all.

Yeah, the first three days.

When at first it didn’t matter a lot to him, now he was starting to feel the side effects of no resting. His body was feeling more and more heavy, his thoughts were less well-structured and an hour felt like a whole day.

He made a good job hiding it though, nobody has asked him about his tired face or the bags under his eyes yet.

“Hey Four, have a moment?”

Great.

“Yeah vet?” If he was lucky it was just to give some maintenance to his sword and shield, then he could go and try to take a nap without everyone looking.

It looks like that wasn’t the answer Legend wanted to hear, looking him up and down. “Just wanted to ask, how are you doing in your training?” This felt like a trick question, a very hard one.

“Ah, good, Sky is teaching me some movements and to react quick, very good teacher.” The last time he trained with the skyloftian he fell on his face, but Legend didn’t need to know that.

“Uh-huh” Maybe he squinted, maybe he blinked very slowly, he doesn’t know. “What about a friendly match of sparring then? Let’s see how much have you improved.” There was the characteristic smile from their vet, playful and challenging.

It was lacking something, huh. Weird.

“Sure, why not?” I’ll give five reasons why not, first of all– A friendly match could wake him up enough for the rest of the day.

They asked Wild for a borrowed sword for Legend and went to their places. They made camp in a big clearing, giving them enough space to not interfere with anyone doing their own thing.  

They both charged to each other, Four’s legs feeling heavier than they should be with each step he gave. With a clank their swords clashed, coming with fast swings trying to hit their opponent.

Slowly the smith’s movements started to get slower and clumsier, now with him just hitting anywhere he could and the vet blocking it without problem.

This game kept going a while, until Legend throwed his sword away and got a clean hit on Four’s neck.

He fell to the floor, his body collapsing and the impact being mitigated by the soft grass.

“That-That wasn’t fair!” How dare him call for a friendly match and suddenly use his bare hands?! But you had done it a lot of times before– The injustice!

Again, he felt like this answer didn’t make the vet content. Or better, him talking didn’t made him happy.

“You should be knocked out by now. How are you even awake.” The look in his eyes was of pure confusion, or Four thinks, its hard to tell when his vision was blurry.

“What do you mean he’s still awake?!” That was Wild, sweet chaotic Wild. What were they talking about. “It was a clean hit! We’ve tried everything!”

“Can someone explain?” The smith asked, slowly moving to get up, but his body didn’t have the strength to do so. Well, the grass wasn’t that uncomfortable at the end.

The two heroes looked at each other in a silent conversation, nobody can have any context in this group apparently.

Wild was the first one to talk “Legend noticed how you sometimes took longer shifts and haven’t been sleeping, so we’ve been trying to get you to have some more rest.”

“It didn’t work anymore, though” There was a hint of frustration in his voice, how long have been they doing this? “Since that battle with the wizzrobes nothing seemed to make effect anymore.” 

“We tried tea, making you work a little more with weapons so you get more tired to sleep, and knocking you out.” Wild scratched the back of his head, now thinking about why that last one wasn’t a very good idea. “Now I don’t even know what else to do.”

Huh, that was sweet from them. “Thanks guys, but I’m good, don’t worry.”

“We worry.” Legend dead-paned. “I’ve seen you, fully awake when the sun is still coming out. That was away from okay.”

“Is not that bad– “

“Four. It’s been a week like that. A whole week.”

“You’re gonna get killed for that” The champion was searching for something on his slate “Sleep deprivation isn’t a game, and you shouldn’t threat it like that.”

He couldn’t argue at that, but it was easier said than done. He also tried ways to sleep during this whole time; counting minish, reading a really boring book, making himself a cocoon with his blankets. Nothing worked!

Wild tapped his arm to gain his attention, had he zoned out? “When I don’t get to sleep, I hold this as a nightlight.”

He was passed a small crystal, it looked interesting, its light was soft and with a soft hint of yellow.

“It’s a Star Fragment, they fall from the sky in my Hyrule and are a little rare. You can have this one, maybe it helps you with getting some sleep…”

When touching the crystal, its light seemed to be brighter, making some weight fall from him that he wasn’t aware he had.

The last thing he saw before falling unconscious was his brothers calling for him, and some weird dark smoke.

[joenotexotic99]

The pleasure before the storm

masterlist

Five Hargreaves x f!reader

Warning: slight spoilers for season 3, smut, oral f!receiving, hand job male and female receiving, bathtub sex, riding, unprotected sex (rember it won't harm her to wear some armor,) cream pie, language, squirting, face riding, and of course fluff.

Lmk if I missed any :)

-Five and reader are both in there 20s-

Word count: 1.5K

-I am not responsible for what you read on the internet so please do not blame me for adult content-

A/n: I know this is not my regular Fandom however I ABSOLUTELY love the umbrella academy and there is a SEVERE lack of smut in this Fandom so I did a favor for all the whores for five out there and wrote this

Enjoy

<3

*I'm too lazy to write a whole ass backstory for this so just imagine that you and five got wrapped up with each other in the 60's and fell in love or some shit and just went with them to the future*

Everything was finally ok for the most part. Everyone was finally able to let out a sigh of relief, especially five. His entire life he never got the chance to feel a feeling that wasn't stress or worry or anger. He wasn't fighting or getting hurt. The only emotion he was enveloped in was his love for you.

God, you drove him mad. You were able to find that soft spot in him, so. fucking. quickly. And he loved it. He loved that no matter what he could come back from God knows where or when and be with you. To hold you, kiss you, fuck you.

Steam filled the room as you laid your head on five's chest, back to his front. You let the warm water of the bath relieve any tight mussels that were left. Five had rubbed your thigh up and down in a loving manner.

You were letting the warmth of the atmosphere slowly lull you to sleep when five's hand crept slowly up to your inner thigh. Your sleep was quickly replaced by a different warmth that was rapidly turning to heat.

"Five" you breathed. Praying that he won't stop.

He didn't reply, instead drawing his middle finger to the place you needed him most. Lazily rubbing your clit.

You squirmed due to the sensation but before you could do much, five moved his free arm around you keeping you in place.

He didn't say a word. He simply quickened his pace on your sensitive nub, keeping a strong hold on you. Making it so the only thing you could do was grip the bathtub and take it.

You moaned his name like a prayer. Over and over and over. A colorful array of language spewed out of your mouth. Head thrown back. The slight feeling of five creating a hickey on your neck. The feeling of your quickly building orgasm took over everything you simply need a little push just one. small. push.

You heard five say one word that tips you over the edge.

"Come"

And it was over. You squeezed the bathtub until your hands turned white. Letting pleasure wash over you.

Your senses came back as you laid to catch your breath. Five's arm that was around you moved to your side and prompted you to turn around. As you sat down in his lap facing him. Five stroked your cheek. And leaned in to kiss your lips. He pulled back, hand still resting on your cheek.

"You did so good for me my love" he stated. While pulling you back to another kiss with more fever this time.

You whined into the kiss wanting more. You reached down between your body's to stroke his already hard and leaking erection.

Five closed his eyes at the feeling of your soft hands around him. As much as he adored the feeling of your hand he wanted something else.

He moved his own hand down and stopped your movements. You looked up at him with the most desperate hungry eyes. Fuck, five could Cum from that look alone if he wanted to. Five gripped your sides and brought you closer, hovering right over his length. He put his mouth right up to your ear and whispered

"What are you waiting for? Ride me"

That's all it took for you as you sunk on to his dick. Both of your heads are thrown back at the action. Five kept his hand on your sides as you slid up then back down. You repeated the action until you set a fast rough pace. The burn in your thighs long forgotten due to the overwhelming sensation.

You sunk down as five pushed up to meet you halfway. Water splashed over the sides of the tub creating a puddle around it. The temperature of the room quickly rose as a layer of sweat started to form on both of you. The sound of your moans were music to his ears as you grounded down on him. God he never felt better. If he were to die he was a thousand percent sure that he would wake up to find that this was his heaven. And he would not complain one bit. The way your breasts bounced every time your body's slammed into each other. The way you would throw your head back and chant his name or tell him to not stop. He Wasn't completely sure if this was even real. Maybe he did die in the jump because this moment right here was fucking ethereal. The way you squeezed around him brought him back to reality. He knew you were about to come. And so was he. Your pace got more brutal until you stopped, letting your orgasm consume you. White spots clouding your vision. You felt so good. So fucking good. Five spilled into you letting out his own groan from his high.

The water was now cold making you shiver.

Five noticing the drop in temperature as well he sat up and spoke.

"here let's get you out and back to our room, huh?" Five asked as you tiredly nodded your head in approval. Five stood and picked you up bridal style. He set you down on a bench. He grabbed one of the towels you two left out prior to your bath. And wrapped in a round your shoulders. He soothingly rubbed your arms. You clung to the white towel as five stood up to fetch the other one. He wrapped it around his waist and walked over to the bath and leaned over to take out the plug letting it drain.

You stood up to remove the towel from around your shoulders and wrapped it around your front.

Five reached his hand out letting go you know to take it. You two walked hand in hand to your rooms miraculously without anyone noticing.

Five being the responsible one had the key with him and unlocked the room to find it pleasantly empty. You both walked in as the door closed behind you with the sound of a click signaling that it had locked.

Five turned around facing you and slowly walked forward until your back hit the door.

Five played with edge of the towel as he looked into your eyes

"You think you can take one more for me sweetheart?" Five asked

You nodded your head yes not trusting your voice.

"I need to hear you say it" Five stated

"God fuck, please" you whined

Five Immediately ripped the towel off your body and threw it to God knows where. He quickly dropped to his knees and skipped the teasing needing a taste of you. He grabbed your thighs and put them over his shoulders. Diving into your heat. His tongue licks up every square inch of your sweet sweet cunt. Eventually landing on your already overestimated clit. As his finger pushed into your sex. Pumping in and out fast. His tongue doing figure eights. He closed his eyes loving every second of this. You ran your fingers through his hair as you pushed his mouth closer, practically riding his face, chasing your high.

"Fuck five" you moaned out pulling on his hair making him moan into you.

The vibrations making scream from overstumulating pleasure. You couldn't care less about your neighbors. As you rode his face, the coil in your lower abdomen got thinner and thinner with every second until it snapped. A rush of heat ran through your body. Every nerve In your body was on fire. When you came down from your third high of the night you looked down to see five's face covered in your juice. You hadn't realized what you had done, to wrapped up In the moment. You weren't even sure you could squirt until now. Five stood up and looked at you.

You were scared of his reaction seeing as how you had never done that before. However a wide grin took over his face. He picked you up, legs wrapping around him as he walked over to bottom bunk of the bed. Setting you down. He pulled the towel off his body doing the same to his towel as yours. He was already hard again

He fell on top of you letting his hands catch him. He kissed you hard again again and again before he pulled away.

" I want you to do that again," five declared. Sex and want dripping from his voice.

"Do what?" You asked, making sure you were thinking the same thing as him.

"You know what" he whispered, lining up with your entrance and pushing, just to start a brutal pace of wonderful pleasure.

You were in for a long and fun night.

[nataliasquote]

Ghost Of You | n romanoff

Summary: learning to move on after Natasha’s sacrifice is the hardest thing in the world

Warnings: mentions of grief, loss, Natasha’s death

wc: 3.2k

note: this is an old fic I wrote ages ago, but I used to love it. I’ve given you enough fluff now anyway… also inspired by the song ‘Ghost of You’ by 5SOS.

- ⧗ -

Four months.

It'd been four months since she died.

Four months without Natasha.

And Y/n keep telling everyone she was fine, but there was a part of her that kept saying that her Natasha wasn’t really gone.

And it's the irrational part of her brain.

But she missed that redhead more than anyone knew.

Words couldn’t begin explain how much she missed her.

It was painful. It felt as though the world had come crashing down, plunging everything into total darkness. And when there was light, colour ceased to exist. Because what was a life without a purpose or reason to live?

Her sun. Gone.

Her home. Gone

Nothing left except harsh reminders of what could have been. There was no future anymore. Y/n spent her days in the past, tangled in memories that were wearing with age. A distorted version of her reality that became harder to grasp with every day that slipped by. The memories were slipping through her fingers, no matter how hard she tried.

Yelena was left to pick up the pieces her sister had left behind. A crumbled widow, her whole life a subject of loss, yet somehow she remained an iron fortress throughout it all. Y/n was family, something Yelena didn’t have much of, or knew much about, but she would be damned if anything happened to her now. She wasn’t sure she could handle another loss.

Y/n had taken residence in her spare room, the barren walls now burdened with grief. It settled across the floor like an unsettling blanket, smothering all who dared to step foot over the threshold.

But Yelena soldiered on. It was down to her to pull Y/n out of the pits she had crawled into in her mind, and today no different. The door creaked from lack of use, the room’s darkness only broken up by the light spilling around the old curtains. A body lay curled up in bed, but the blonde knew she was not asleep.

Against her instincts, Yelena made sure her boots were loud on the exposed floorboards, alerting the jumpy woman of her presence. She crouched slowly, a hand reaching out to land on Y/n’s knee softly.

"You ok?" She asked, receiving no movement or change of expression. Y/n’s eyes were heavy, but not with lack of sleep. This tiredness extended further than that; a tiredness of life. “Y/n, it’s me.”

A mumble came as a reply, which Yelena took as a positive. Some days received absolutely no recognition, so a sound or nod was progress.

“Any idea of what you want to do today?” She probed again, moving over to the curtains to draw them back slightly. Y/n winced at the light, another good sign. The outside air was cool and a welcome refreshment as the Russian pushed the rusty window open a fraction.

“Bed and sleep,” came the reply. A possible plan, yes, but not exactly what Yelena was thinking.

“How about we go somewhere today?” Y/n didn’t look convinced. “Natasha would want you to, you know that.”

“Don’t say her name!” Y/n cried, her voice breaking from lack of use and raw emotion. She refused to mention Natasha anymore, too afraid of what was lying just below the surface if she did.

But something had switched in Yelena overnight, and she turned around quickly. “She was my sister. I have every right to say her name Y/n.” That was clearly the wrong thing to say, but what did she know? Yelena had barely been out of the Red Room for two years. Social cues weren’t a strong suit. “I am sorry, I didn’t mean to. I just know she wouldn’t want you moping around grieving her like this. She would want you to go out and live your life. See the world.”

"How can I see the world when she was my world." Y/n whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks and soaking into her pillow. "I loved her but never got to show her properly. There is so much more I could have done for her. If I'd just had more time." Yelena crouched down and helped her sit up, offering a tissue to clean herself up a bit.

"I have a suggestion for you. I was talking to Wanda yesterday and we think it might be a good idea if you go back there."

Y/n looked up at her with red and puffy eyes. “Back where?”

“Back home, Y/n. The apartment that you and Natasha shared. You’ve still got lots of your stuff there and I’m sure there’s some things of hers you want.”

Y/n had stopped listening at the word ‘home’. Home wasn’t a place, it never had been. It was a feeling. A person. Y/n would never be able to go home anymore. An empty apartment ridden with memories wasn’t somewhere she wanted to be. Not without Natasha to breathe life into those four walls. Without her it was just dark. Lifeless.

Just like how she felt right now.

Yet her response was surprising. An “ok” tumbled past her lips before she could even register what she was saying, taking both her and Yelena by surprise. She leaned against the wall and pulled her knees up to her chest, staring at a dark spot on the duvet cover.

“Ok? I’ll be there the whole time, don’t worry. How about I give you some time to get ready and I’ll meet you out by the truck?” Y/n nodded, her eyes not moving, and Yelena took that as her cue to leave.

A shower felt like too much work, so Y/n dragged her hair into a ponytail and let it hang limply, too exhausted to try and do anything with it. The yellowing light in the bathroom only emphasised her dark circles and she eyed her make up bag that sat balanced on the edge of the sink.

Concealer barely helped, as did mascara, but Y/n tried all the same, almost willing herself to look better. If Natasha saw her in this state she would have crumbled, but she wasn’t there so Y/n couldn’t find it within her to care.

Placing her mascara back in the bag, her fingertips brushed over a familiar tube. She pulled it out and stared at it carefully, the writing old and faded on the packaging. But there was no mistaking Natasha’s favourite red lipstick. She refused to use any other shade and it always looked so vibrant against her pale skin. But looking at it now, it just looked so dull.

Y/n pressed her lips to it gently and slipped it into her pocket, where it nestled alongside a folded photograph and a promise ring.

Natasha’s promise ring. The one she used to wear alongside her wedding ring. The wedding ring that matched the one currently strung around her neck, too obnoxious to stay on her finger now.

Their key to everlasting happiness.

But what good was a key on its own? Useless without its matching component, a harsh reminder of what could have been but never will be.

Yelena was sat in the back seat of the truck with Fanny, giving the Akita belly rubs which he clearly loved. She looked up at Y/n and smiled, climbing through to settle into the drivers seat. “Fanny doesn’t know the meaning of stay yet, so I’ll bring him along. But he won’t come inside.”

Y/n nodded, and placed her elbow on the window edge, her cheek falling into her palm. The gentle hum of the engine combined with the smoothness of the road pulled her back into her head, memories swirling around but never fully making themselves known. Y/n was in the muddy middle ground, somewhere between numbness and a breakdown.

After an hour the car came to a stop. She knew this parking lot. Knew which space Nat always kept her bike in. She was always so particular.

Holding the key tightly in her fist, Y/n ascended the metal stairs, ignoring the way the rough edges of the key dug into her skin and left an imprint. She knew how to wiggle it into the lock just enough to get it to turn, muscle memory taking over.

As she opened the door, the living room was dark. A light layer of dust covered all the surfaces from the lack of use, and small slits of lights peaked through the closed curtains. There were books piled on the table and a couple of old beer bottles stranded on the floor. Y/n looked around in a daze, completely absorbed by the change of atmosphere. This place used to be so full of life. But now it was dull and barren.

Her heart skipped a beat as her eyes glanced to the floor. By the door, like they'd just been taken off, was Nat's pair of old converse. They were once black, but now sported a dark grey colour, having been worn so often. She wore them everywhere when she wasn't working.

Y/n bent down and picked them up, looping the laces over her fingers so she could easily carry them with her. The kitchen door was open, so she carried on walking, almost in a trance. Yelena hadn’t entered yet, wanting to give her some privacy in her old home.

The kitchen was brighter as the blinds were open, and everything was just as they had left it. A pile of clean dishes on the rack, just waiting to be put away. Nat's collection of weird keychains that she collected from every place she visited. A pile of hair ties and bobby pins that always disappeared. But most importantly, the fridge.

It was used more like their main photo album. Photos covered the silver metal, miscellaneous magnets holding photos of the couple onto it. There was a picture of Nat kissing Y/n on the beach, the first date we ever went on as an official couple. Even in the one captured moment, you could see how tender Natasha was, cupping Y/n’a face with her rough palms like she was a priceless jewel. Looking at it, she could still feel her touch.

There were a few candid ones from their trip to Europe and even some from their wedding day. But the one in the middle made her heart ache.

Nat laying on a picnic blanket in the park, her hair pulled back in a half up messy braid. She was lying on her stomach with a book open out in front of her, legs bent up behind her with those damn converse on her feet. She had the biggest smile on her face and she was laughing into the camera. Y/n remembered that day so vividly and she started to cry. She could never feel that way again, so happy, so relaxed.

"Damn it!” She yelled, slamming her hand onto the counter and taking a shaky breath in.

"Y/N?" a voice questioned, breaking her out of her mini outburst. Y/n quickly turned around to find the source of the voice, which was coming from the door way. The shoes fell out of her hand as she layed eyes upon the woman stood in the doorway.

Red hair was the first thing Y/n noticed.

Arms wide. A big smile on her face.

Not wasting any time, she ran into her open arms and felt herself being picked up, bodies spinning around like they always used to do. Both women were both giggling and smiling at each other, tears running down their faces.

"Oh my god you're actually here! I thought you left me" Y/n cried, grabbing onto Natasha’s face and planting kisses everywhere. Her nose, cheeks, jaw, everywhere she had missed being able to feel beneath her fingertips suddenly felt so real and she could sense the weight being lifted off her chest. It just felt right.

"I would never leave you baby." Natasha said, before their lips met in a bruising kiss.

"I knew you wouldn't. I knew you'd come back for me!" Y/n couldn’t help but laugh against her lips, the worry and sadness leaving her body, making her lighter. There were truly no words to describe it, but feeling Natasha’s lips on hers and her green eyes bringing so much warmth and safety into her body, Y/n never wanted to leave again.

Music started playing softly and Nat looked at the girl in her arms. "Can I have this dance, my beautiful wife?" She wrapped her arms around Y/n’s waist, who placed hers loosely around her neck as they started to sway. She didn't know where the music was coming from, but she didn't care. All thst was in her brain was the fact that she was here with Natasha. Finally.

They danced to the music, waltzing around the kitchen, eyes fixated on each other. Y/n felt as giddy as she did when they shared their first kiss, her hands feeling the way Natasha’s hair was so soft as it brushed her fingertips. The way her hands felt on her body gave Y/n a sense of relief and she sighed, resting her head on Natasha’s shoulder. She leaned her head on top of her wife’s and wrapped her arms tighter around her waist, still swaying to the beat. They fit together so perfectly, like a key in a lock.

"I've missed this." Y/n muttered into Natasha’s neck who hummed in agreement.

"Me too" she husked. God, that voice. She’d missed that too.

As the song picked up, Nat released Y/n from her arms and spun her around, twirling her around the floor like a ballerina. The redhead scooped her up in her arms and spun around, their laughter filling the once empty room. Y/n was taller than Natasha when Nat picked her up, so she gazed down at her and grinned, the same look adorning both of their faces. Love. Admiration. Relief.

As Natasha slowly lowered Y/n to the ground, they met each other with another kiss. The song slowly faded away in the background and they gradually stopped moving, but stayed in each other's arms.

"I see you found my converse?" Natasha pointed out, and Y/n turned around to see where she was looking.

"Oh yeah. I picked them up because I didn't know you were here." She couldn’t help but blush.

Natasha bent down and picked them up, handing them back over with a soft look in her eyes. "You keep them. They look better on you anyway." She said, flashing her signature smile.

"Are you sure?" Y/n asked, her brows creasing in the middle. “These were your favourite shoes!"

"I can always get some more if I need them."

Y/n looped the laces around her fingers once more and pulled Nat into another hug, just breathing in her scent. There was no perfume to distract her, just purely Natasha. Tears started rolling down her cheeks as the familiar scent she knew and loved filled her nose. The smell of home.

They finally pulled away and Natasha took a couple of steps back, leaning on the door frame as she had done previously.

"You know I love you Y/N. I always have and I always will. Don't you ever forget that." She said, folding her arms and smiling at the woman in front of her.

"I love you too,” Y/n whispered and Natasha blew her a kiss.

"Y/n?" Another voice called from behind her. It was Yelena this time, the blonde having waited for long enough outside. She placed a hand on Y/n’s shoulder and followed her gaze to where Natasha had been stood.

"I love you" Y/n muttered again, tears streaming down her face.

"Y/n who are you talking to?" Yelena asked, worry lacing her words.

"Nat. She's right there." She said, pointing to Natasha in the doorway.

"What? Detka, Nat's not here. What are you talking about?" Yelena asked. Y/n turned around to face her and then looked back to where Natasha was standing.

Or where she was standing. Except now that spot was empty.

She wasn’t there.

"She was there! She was just there! No!" The girl was in distress, shouting and crying as she ran around, checking everywhere in the apartment.

"Y/n what's going on?" Yelena asked hesitantly, her concerned increasing by the second. What had she missed?

“She’s gone! Nat left! She left me again! No, she promised she wouldn’t leave me again.” She was a sobbing mess, collapsing to her knees in the middle of the apartment, no longer caring about the dust that thickly coated the floor. Yelena rushed to her side and knelt down, pulling her into a hug. She rocked the sobbing girl gently, tightening her grip as she felt Y/n clutch at her shirt to ground herself. She was muttering frantically, incoherent sentences flowing into each other.

"Y/n, Nat's gone. She isn't coming back." It was harsh, but Yelena had to say it. The truth stung.

"She was just here." Y/n whimpered. "We danced together. I felt her. She was real!"

"Oh Y/n. That wasn’t real."

"It was real to me!" She pressed her head back into Yelena’s shoulder and continued to cry, laboured breaths dragging themselves through her constricted lungs, clawing at her insides and almost begging to break through her chest.

And the whole time those stupid converse were in her hand.

She never let them go.

They were the last thing Y/n ever got from her.

The only thing close enough to serve as a final reminder.

Of Nat.

Her Nat.

Natasha Romanoff.

Daughter. Sister. Avenger.

Wife.

[tmwcs]

Hi Reina!!! <33 what would be Heethan reaction if they were to a mariage and when the it's time to throw the bouquet, reader caught the bouquet? (as you may know that if we catch the bouquet we are supposed to get married) I love you so much you're my favorite writer <33

🦝 anon

oooohohoho this is juicy! I’m gonna answer in great detail!

First off, he’d make sure you both attend a friends wedding with you dressed to the nines, despite you not being the bride. You’re the most beautiful girl in his eyes and even though he has you all to himself, he likes to show you off. ;)

He’d watch over you like a hawk the entire time. If anyone dares to approach and ask you to dance, they’re going to meet an unpleasant end after this wedding.

his eyes are going to watch you with an expression of desire and yearning. You look too good, and he’s going to stand off to the side leaned up against a wall in his tux, head tilted and smirking. he won’t ever be more than 3-5 feet away from you.

you stand among a group of friends, not really intending on participating in the traditional event. You stood off the side and watched all the other girls reaching up and yelling out to the bride, desperate to get their hands on that bouquet.

the bride turns around, her back facing the eager crowd and she closes her eyes and swings her hands over her head. Her lack of coordination and aim caused the bouquet to lapse over to the side and fly directly in your direction. you gently catch the bouquet with wide eyes and a surprise expression. 😲

The girls all pout and frown as they see you holding the large bouquet. It’s heavier than how it looks. You look up at the crowd with your lips stuttering, trying to find the words to calm them.

suddenly, you feel yourself being thrashed away. Pulled at the waist, you’ gasp out your breath and become shook by being taken away from the audience.

Dragged away, everyone stood with wide eyes, just as shocked as you when you slowly disappear. You only see his backside as he continues to pull you through the rows of parked cars, until he gets to his own.

his movements and level of force nearly had you convinced that he was angry. But for what? It wasn’t as if you intentionally tried to catch the bouquet.

he throws you into the seat, before getting in and starting the car. His eyes are stern, he displays no smile and doesn’t say a thing. To make matters even more frightening, he steered the wheel with one hand while he maintained a strong hold on your neck, slightly having you leaned in, facing him, over the center console. “Babe? Heeseung? Please….why won’t you talk to me?”

he keeps his eyes on the road. His silence wasn’t the only thing that was constant, he didn’t bother to look at you the entire drive, only staring dead at the road. Your body halfway twisted as he kept you in close proximity over the center, your rear bed barely touching the seat, you start to feel sore and uncomfortable. Why won’t he say anything? Was he angry that you caught the bouquet without his permission?

the drive finally ends and he quickly unbuckles his seatbelt and gets out, dragging you along with him. You’re in an unfamiliar setting and grow more fearful as he takes you inside a building.

A desk at the front is before you. There stands a lone woman who greets the both of you as you entered. “Hello, what can I help you with?”

“you have a a magistrate available?” His tone is deep and stern, just like his eyes.

“Why yes sir, are you seeking our walk in services?”

He quickly answers, ensuring that you stand behind either his hand gripped around your wrist. He fills out some documents, while the woman comes back to the lobby with the magistrate. “Hello there! What a lovely couple. My assistant has told me you are looking to seal your vows and need your marriage officiated, and that you’re in a hurry?”

Heeseung nods without looking at the minister, who willfully agrees to officiate your ‘wedding’ through a high level of kindness and understanding. “I’ll be happy to do that for you both. Do you have anyone to stand and bear witness to the ceremony?” Heeseung nods once more and just then, the door opens. Six young men enter, one of which was Jake.

“H-Heeseung….” You stutter as he drags you behind him, following the minister. “Heeseung!” You whisper desperately after experiencing his ignorant behavior once more.

He stands you across from him. The pastel beige colored dress served as your bridal gown as he joined his hands with yours, and the minister begins his introduction. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…” Heeseung’s hands tighten around yours, and you stand confused and scared. Is he seriously going to make you marry him right now? In this way? What about his agreeing in letting you finish college? Why? All because you bc sight a bouquet?

The minister asks Heeseung to repeat the vows. When it came to your turn, he strategically tugs on your palms, causing you to hiccup an “I do.” Never allowing the minister to suspect the use of force that was present. “I hereby announce you as husband, and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

The six young men all cheer and chant Heeseung’s name as he pulls you by the neck into a passionate kiss. Just as quickly as he brought you in, he took you right back out upon finalizing the rightful procedures and signing the marriage license. All of his friends continue their chant as they trailed behind and followed closely behind you both.

He pulls you back inside the car, holds you by the neck for the final time and pulls you into a kiss. Pausing, he whispers against your pout with a grin…

“Catching bouquets, are we?” He slaps another kiss on your lips. “I thought you wanted to wait until you finished college. Guess you couldn’t wait.”

You tried to object and set the record straight but he wouldn’t let you. He grips your mouth into a full make out. “You know what comes next after marriage baby?”

You shake your head. “Heeseung no…”

“Oh yes.”

His eyes couldn’t hide it. You knew better that this man, while carrying the potential of being a great father, merely only wanted to put his deed inside you to trap you for all eternity, ensuring that you could never leave even if you had wanted to. The thought of marrying him and having his baby was a dream that you wanted to experience the traditional way and I due time, but not like this. “Heeseung no…not like this.”

“It’s so damn cute that you—“ kissing you once again, he pauses as he tucks your hair behind an ear. “think you have a choice.”

Your eyes sting with the tears coming through. “You wouldn’t want to break the traditions of marriage, would you? After all…”

He leans closer. “You’re the one that caught the bouquet. And I’m a man that doesn’t like tie waste time, especially with my pretty wife.” Grabbing on to your thigh, he pulls you into the backseat and crawls onto of you. Grinning darkly, he looks down at you with a taunting smile that took pity on your helpless appearance. “Now, lay there and watch me fuck a baby inside you. I’ll make you into a mommy, make you quit school, and be my perfect stay at home wife and mother to our children. I’ll take care of everything else. You will stay safe and forever be near me. I’m going to watch my baby grow inside you. You’re going to be my perfect soulmate.”

He goes on and on. You see the insanity of his obsession and love for you, and it scares you to death. “I want you to always remember this y/n…you did this to me. You have this effect and made me crave you. This is all your fault and I’m going to remind you every single day.”

Your breath hitches. “Heeseung…it’s not my fault that I was born the way that I am. I never asked for this…for you to choose me. Please take it easy.”

He smirks again. “Oh pretty…maybe you shouldn’t have been born then? Maybe in the next life, you should remember that. But if you still come into the world, don’t worry, I’ll come find you and make you mine again.”

[fresh-new-yoik-watah]

Almost Sacrifice

Neteyam x human!Reader

an: hello second fic ! the ending is kinda rushed I literally didn’t know what to do rjdjsj

summary: “Can I request some Neteyam x human! reader? Neteyam lived and (y/n) nearly died in the process. When she soon wakes up Neteyam becomes so protective of her?”

warnings: none. maybe angst ? fluffy fluff

word count: 1177

——————

Stupid.

The only word running through Neteyam’s head. How stupid he thought you were. Stupid for risking your life; stupid for taking the bullet aimed for him. And he planned to tell you that. He would not let you off easy; of course, he never did. You had a habit of getting yourself injured; anywhere from small scratches to large gashes, but they were all the same In Neteyam’s eyes. Each enough to make him worried and upset and ensued a scolding, but no matter what he was feeling, he still always tended to your wounds, sneaking salve from his grandmother’s hut and making sure you continued to apply it even after he had left. Except this time, he was not the one caring for you. He wasn’t even allowed to see you until the healers believed you stable. Kiri would give him updates, assuring him you were healing fine, but it did nothing to ease him, not when his last image of you was bloody and gasping, slipping in and out of consciousness, as he dragged your limp body out of the water. It was burned into his mind; the stillness of your face, the lack of breath fogging your mask. It was terrifying. He could feel his heart pounding against his entire body and it was deafening; the chaos around him diminished into a painful ringing in his ear; everyone’s voices had become clogged and far away. All he could focus on was you laying in front of him, barely hanging to the thread of life. It made him sick, how helpless he felt as you were pried out of his arms, being taken away. All of it haunted him, so he distracted himself, rehearsing in his mind everything he would say to you once you were well enough.

Neteyam had no idea how soon that would be or how much time had even passed. Daytime and eclipse were all the same to him. His body was trudging through the motions, carrying him to eat, drink, and sleep. He was just relieved you were alive, grateful to Ewya that she kept you alive, even if he didn’t know if she cared for your kind. But while you were all he could think of, his family was worrying more and more for him. His parents were lost, left with a shell of their son they didn’t recognize. His eyes were sunken and dark, his freckles dim. But everyone was too scared of saying the wrong thing that nothing was ever said, just concerned looks in passing.

One too many days had gone the same, and Kiri had enough. Night came and she laid on her side, staring at the stitching on the walls of their mauri pod, waiting until she heard the snores of each of her parents and siblings, all except for Neteyam’s. She sat herself up and crawled towards him, careful not to bump the toy’s Tuk left scattered on the floor.

“Neteyam.”

No response.

“Neteyam.”

More silence.

Kiri rolled her eyes and sighed, “I know you’re awake. I’m taking you to see y/n.”

Neteyam rolled over and sat up abruptly, the beads in his braids quietly clinking against each other at the sudden movement. “What?”

“Come on,” she pulled at his arm and guided him out of their mauri pod.

“I thought I wasn’t allowed to see her yet?”

“You’re not.”

“Then why are—“

Kiri cut him off, “You’re not yourself. You’ve locked yourself away and you don’t see how worried everyone is. I don’t want to see you sulk like this anymore, so I’m taking you to see her. I want my brother back.”

They continued walking in silence and Neteyam thought about what his sister said. He didn’t realize how much he had shut everyone out; he couldn’t remember the last time he talked to Lo’ak or even played with Tuk. Guilt filled his heart.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Kiri’s ears flattened slightly and she gave him a soft smile. “You’ve been carrying a lot.”

They arrived at the healing pod you were being kept at. Neteyam had been waiting for this moment, but now that he was here he wasn’t sure he was ready. He stood, staring at the entrance; the air became thick and his heart beat began to increase. He had no idea what he would see when he went in, how bad a shape you were in, or if you were even awake. He turned to Kiri, his eyes seeking comfort and strength in his sister. She nodded and mouthed for him to go on. Reaching out, he lifted the flap up and walked in.

“Neteyam.”

His breath caught in his throat as he saw you, very much awake. He barely made out your shape in the dark room, minuscule light creeping in through the flap reflecting off your mask. Nothing came out of his gaping mouth while he struggled to find words to say. Everything he wanted to tell you, everything he repeated over and over in his mind for days slipped away.

You let out an airy laugh, “I take a bullet for you and you can’t even talk to me.”

Of course you were making a joke out of this; he should’ve expected nothing less, and it was all he needed for everything to come rushing back. He crouched down beside where you lay.

“You skxawng.”

“There it is.”

You stared up at him, eyes locked with his. There was so much hidden in them, so much emotion. You never told him, but his eyes always gave him away, gave away everything he was feeling, contrasting the front he put on. And his eyes knew yours just as well, a pool of colour he could get lost in forever, his favourite colour.

He grabbed your hand, gently tracing patterns into your soft skin, scared he might break you. “You’re so stupid,” he exhaled, “Why would you do that? You could’ve been dead.”

It’s not that you hadn’t thought of the weight of your actions, the very real consequence that could’ve been; you’ve had weeks alone with nothing but your thoughts, but hearing him say it made your heart sink into your stomach. You could’ve died.

“I know.” You intertwined your fingers; his engulfing your hand even with your extra pinky. “I just couldn’t let it be you,” water started brimming your eyes, making everything glossy as you blinked.

“I would’ve brought you back and killed you myself if you died,” he pressed his forehead against your mask. “I don’t care if it would unbalance life.”

You laugh at his extremity, even though there was truth in it. You knew he would, at least he’d definitely try, and if he couldn’t bring you back, he’d never let you rest and scold you in the afterlife, and that would be worse than hell.

“I’m okay. We’re okay,” you smile.

“I’d wipe your tears, but I wouldn’t want you to suffocate. It’d be embarrassing to die like that after getting shot.”

“And you’ve ruined the moment.”