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#(and I’ve got so much going on that I would be Screwed even if I hadn’t aged out of my dad’s insurance)
void-tiger · 9 months
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Some days I think I probably do need an actually trained service animal for mental health crap + the occasional chronic crap affecting my mobility.
But like…I don’t really want a dog. I want a Highly Trained mainecoon or norwegian forest cat. Just. This very large very fluffy very baseline breed intelligent cat known to take on BEARS (or, home invaders and men attempting SA).
I’d be THAT Crazy Lady walking this giant fluff monster most days, but other days just have my lap full of fluff when my hips-down don’t want to cooperate, or I need the comforting weight and fluffy company to hold the brain static at bay.
And some days…look. It hurts to grasp things. Or I risk dropping things. And cats can and will open cupboards and drawers if the handles let them hook their paws Just So to make up for the lack of opposable thumbs.
(Yeah yeah I know people are more accustomed to training dogs for this, but I’ve had quite a bit of luck training my “just housecats” as adults with various things, and people post the adventures they take with their mainecoons like, all the time…so think of what I could do with socializing and training a cat if I had the chance to do so.
(…also I just get along better with cats than dogs. They’re more tolerant to my need to not have a true routine. Also they poop in a box.)
#tiger’s musings#yesterday was…ugh. think my body was fighting off a minor respiratory illness#bUT because I’m also chronically ill + have to take an immunosuppresent it…was not good#like I kinda freaked my online friends out with what my symptoms were#but…I’m just. so used to this. so used to just holding onto walls because I get so unsteady and trying to sleep through these episodes#it’s…definitely Something. not ‘jUST psYCHoSOmATiC’ like I got gaslit into believing 5+ years ago#but…with what turned out to be AS and Probably a CTD and Currently Assumed IBS (but prolly also CTD imo)#I…hadn’t really had a chance to do more than ‘okay so I also have tremors’#but hey. I have to have my annual pcp visit so I’ll make myself whine about it and the fluttery/tight/visible chest&pulse issues then#(they’re probably related. POTS…kinda can cause high bp/tachicardia and sometimes tremors too.)#(and like. high bp is kinda something so common in my family in young adulthood it’s a ‘when’ vs ‘if’)#so…yeah. sometimes I think I might need some sort of chair and service animal#in addition to custom fitted compression globes#and probably compression shorts and spats and sleeves on my knees and elbows#aaaaand prolly custom arch supports. in addition to Nicer Shoes than an Okay $50 newbalance pair#which…yeah. you can see how all this would get Very Expensive Very Fast#(aaaaaaaand… hope I don’t idk. get dropped from my medicaid? listen they’re sending me automated messages to get my risk assessment done)#(and I’ve got so much going on that I would be Screwed even if I hadn’t aged out of my dad’s insurance)#(it definitely affects me being able to work and keep a job)
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norrizzandpia · 2 months
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I’ve Got You (LN4)
Summary: In the midst of the FIA determining whether his lap times will be deleted, Y/n finds her boyfriend sitting in front of multiple cameras, but that doesn’t matter, he’s upset and she’s got him.
Warnings: none <3
Note: this is based off when Lando’s quali lap times were deleted and he was just sitting there looking at his hands all sad :(
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“Where is he?” Y/n threw the headphones off her head the moment she caught wind of the news.
Andrea approached her softly, a hand up, “He’s doing the post-quali interviews, Y/n.”
She shook her head at him, “So, what? He’s just sitting there as they converse about his lap time? Andrea, you know how he gets with these things. He shouldn’t be alone.”
Andrea stepped in front of her when she tried to maneuver around him, trying to get to Lando, “Y/n, there are too many cameras. We can’t ensure PR.”
She blinked at him, “Are you fucking kidding me? Fuck PR. I don’t care about anything, but getting to him right now. He should not be alone right now. I mean, look at him!” She waved her hand toward the TVs, screens showing Lando picking at his nails as clear embarrassment sunk into his body, “He doesn’t even want to be alone right now.”
Andrea huffed, eyes glancing to the side before landing back on her and nodding, “Fine, but no major PDA.”
She loved Andrea, she truly did, but she gave him a nasty look before rushing off.
She weaseled her way through the crowds, tears springing her eyes at the image of Lando sitting idly by himself. A man stopped her when she tried to get passed the barriers, “Miss, you do not have authorization to enter into this area.”
She smiled at him, “I’m his girlfriend.”
That didn’t mean anything in the eyes of security, “Okay.”
A frown found its way onto her face, “Sir, please. I’m trying to comfort someone I love.”
He continued to shake his head, “I understand, but I cannot allow you into this area. I can’t confirm who you are.”
Hands tied, her eyes spotted Oscar and she yelled him over. When his feet landed him feet away from the situation, he didn’t need anytime to realize what was going on. Oscar grabbed Y/n’s arm, “It’s okay. She’s with me.”
The man thought for a moment before allowing her through, a smile on her face as she thanked Oscar. He waved it off, asking her to promise a happier Lando. She would try, she said.
Lando saw her feet first. Her white sneakers that she loved so much aligned in his vision and he stopped picking at his fingers. His gaze slid up her form as she sat down next to him, hand sliding under and around his arm softly. She heard the murmurs, they were incredibly loud, and the camera clicks, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. She could practically feel the upset melting off Lando. She hurt so much for him.
His body relaxed at the feeling of her warmth and when she laid her head on his shoulder, he laid his on the top of her head.
“I’m sorry, baby.” She whispered. Maybe lip readers would figure out what they said.
His hands went to fidget with the nails on his fingers, but she stopped him, linking their hands and softly rubbing his skin, “It’s okay. I need to work harder. I can’t keep failing like this.”
She squeezed his hand three times, a silent confession of love, “You’re not failing. You haven’t failed, Lan. Everybody is proud of you. Racing is a hard sport and you are one of the most talented drivers here. You’re so so hard on yourself, love.”
Lando chuckled, “Y/n, you have to say these things. You’re my girlfriend.”
She pulled her head back lightly, giving him a moment to get his off her head before looking him in the eyes, “Lan, I don’t have to say anything. When have I ever lied to you? When have I not told you that an outfit looked bad when it did? When have I not told you that a move you did in the race screwed you over when it did? When have I not told you you handled a situation badly when you did? I’ve always been up front with you. This is a hard track. You are not a failure, Lan. Nobody thinks that.”
He was quiet for a moment before pecking her lips, “Even though part of me is still beating myself up over this, knowing you’re proud of me helps it subside a bit.”
She smiled, kissing his cheek whilst still rubbing his hand, “Of course, I’m proud of you. Lan, I will always be proud of you. Even when you don’t give your all, I’m proud of you for being you. Fuck anybody who thinks different, you’ve got this. You have shown time and time again that you’ve got this. I’m sure you’ll give it your all tomorrow and you’ll continue to show just how much you’ve got this.”
His head fell to the side with a soft grin, “You think so?”
She brushed the hair around his face away, “Yes, I do think so. And, hey, even if you don’t, if you DNF, I’ll buy you your favorite ice cream and we’ll watch a sad movie, have a good cry. We can turn anything bad into something good.”
He laughed, “How is crying a good thing?”
She gave him a deadpanned look, “Baby, you love a good cry.”
He leaned into her as he giggled, “You’re right. You know me too well.”
She nodded, “I love you, don’t I?”
“I love you too. Thank you.” He whispered, kissing her lightly in fear of the cameras. He never told her often, but Y/n had the greatest ability to talk him out of his moments of self-doubt. Whether it was small or big, she always knew just the things to say to make him snap out of his anxieties. Her superpower, turning his frown upside down.
He wished he was as good as her at it, but she was Y/n, his favorite person, she did everything better than everybody.
He loved her for it, he lived for it, he continued for it.
He loved her, he lived for her, he continued for her.
And when they told him his lap times had been deleted, the weight didn’t feel as heavy. Her arm wrapped around the side of his body as they walked away and her whispers of reassurance in his ear, the lap time situation began to feel smaller.
He accredited it all to her. Her words worked wonders, but, if he was being honest, a small look sent his way from her would do the trick. He guessed it was how much he felt for her, how much of his happiness lay with her.
Under the Qatar Grand Prix lights, Lando found peace. When the reporters asked him how he was coping with the loss, he had the same response every time.
“Some time spent in the presence of my girlfriend will work wonders.”
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r-2-peepoo · 2 months
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I just saw a really stupid take from a Star Wars fan (I know, absolutely unheard of! (heavy sarcasm)) so here is a reminder:
People who ship clones with Jedi are more than aware of the power dynamic. That’s a huge part of what makes them interesting. If we were to to ship Cody with basically anyone else other than Obi Wan, it probably wouldn’t work as well because Obi Wan is precisely the last person who would ever want to pressure him or cross his boundaries.
The Jedi were totally screwed over and backed into a war that goes against so much of what they stand for and on top of that, now they have an entire army of brand new humans to lead. All of those brand new humans are totally unique and just experiencing the world for the first time, even though they’re all mature adults too. It’s a totally screwed up situation which puts so much added pressure onto the Order, so we throw romantic feelings on top of that and we’re not supposed to find that absurdly compelling?
Obi Wan is literally defined by his empathy and his kindness. The reason shipping him with Cody works so well is because there is no one who represents what the Jedi are meant to be better than him. Goodness is at the core of his character. There would never be a day that he didn’t value Cody’s wellbeing over his own feelings. Not to mention that they’re both so dedicated to their beliefs and responsibilities that a relationship is never even realistically an option while the war is going on.
Codywan is about the yearning. It’s about them both knowing they have feelings for each other and not being able to do anything about it because they are fighting for something much bigger than themselves. It’s about the infamous “after the war” conversation that they never got to have. It’s about them meeting again on Tatooine years later, finally on equal footing and completely alone in the galaxy, bonded together by their grief.
That’s why people love Codywan. The suggestion of anything otherwise is just an insult to the hard work all the artists and writers have put into making some of the most incredible fanfiction and fanart and fanon lore I’ve ever seen in any fandom ever.
P.S.— the portrayal of something in a piece of media doesn’t equal the condoning or promoting of that sort of behaviour. I thought we’d long since established that. Let’s use our brains here.
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papercorgiworld · 4 months
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Pansy’s interrogation II
Enzo, Blaise, Mattheo, Draco and Theo
Pansy’s back with more teasing and questions to confirm her suspicions.
Honestly, I know this isn’t peak writing, but I personally just love these little scenario’s. Also, no warnings!
All interrogations are separate scenes, so you don’t need to read part 1, but if you’re curious: read it here.
I’m currently working on a request based on the scenario’s of part one of ‘Pansy’s Interrogation’. Theo’s I will post later today, like in a few hours or so. The other one about Mattheo’s scenario is a bit of a struggle, so hopefully tomorrow evening.
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Enzo Berkshire
Pansy joins Enzo at the Slytherin table in the great hall for an early breakfast. “Lorenzo, sweetie.” He looks up as Pansy takes a seat next to him. Oh dear, she wants something. He hates this, he gets nervous when Pansy wants something from him. He really isn’t good at keeping secrets.
Pansy fills her plate, while Enzo contemplates what she could possibly want from him. “Yesterday the girls and I were talking and it came up that-“ Enzo drops his spoon on his plate, startling Pansy. He then turns to her, catching her full attention. “I wasn’t staring at (y/n)’s boobs… or ass. I mean I wasn’t looking at her. I’ve never seen (y/n) in my life.”
Pansy smirks. Dearest Lorenzo, you're a simp. Blaise and Theo join them, but immediately frown at Enzo’s flustered face. “He just confessed his love for (y/n).” Pansy chuckles.
Enzo eyes widened. “I didn’t confess to anything.” Blaise drops his head as he laughs. “Enzo, mate, almost everyone knows.” Enzo narrows his eyes in frustration with his friend. “Pretty sure I’ve heard you say her name in your sleep.” Theo adds.
Pansy laughs content with all the information she’s collecting. “It was more like a moan.” Blaise argues, making it worse. Enzo is losing his mind by now, worried what you’ll think of him. He’s pleased when he spots Mattheo and Draco approaching.
“Guys, help me out here. They’re saying I’m in love with (y/n).” Draco chuckles. “You mean the girl you yesterday referred to as your future wife.” You’re all a bunch of assholes!
“Okay, Pans, are you open to bribes? Because I really don’t need (y/n) knowing about this.” Pansy grins. “Maybe.”
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Blaise Zabini
Blaise walks away from you with a blissful smile. Pansy’s already grinning when he makes eye contact with her. He groans when she laces her arm with him. “So attentive of you help her carry her books.” Blaise just nods. “I would do the same for your Pansy.” She just darts her eyes at him. Flattery won’t help you, dearest Blaisy. “Reminds me of when you helped her during potions last week and let’s not forget that you lent her your notes for Herbology.”
Blaise forces her to let go of his arm, creating some much needed distance so he can keep up his cool act. “What can I say, Pansy, I’m just a really nice person. Maybe you should follow my example.”
“You’re nice on the eyes. But that’s as far as you go on the topic of nice.” Pansy argues, making Blaise’s eyes roll up in frustration.
“Hey, hey, Blaise, mate, I need your help.” Mattheo comes running towards them.
“You’re in luck, Matt, because as of recently Blaise is a nice and helpful person.” Mattheo frowns at Pansy, but decides to ignore her and turns to Blaise. “Sluggy says I really screwed up by not showing up to class… for two weeks. So, next week we will team up so I can fix my grades, alrighty?” Blaise just stares at his friend, while cursing that Pansy’s still there.
“Can’t you ask Theo?” Mattheo shakes his head. “Nah, I’ll annoy the hell out of him and get the content of the cauldron in my face.” Blaise sighs. “I can't, I need to help… someone else.”
Pansy licks her lips. “Let me guess?” She sings. “(Y/n)?” Mattheo grins in realization and Blaise clenches his jaw. A twisted smile tugs at Pansy’s lips.
“Alright then mate, since you’ve already got Pansy to deal with I won’t cockblock.” Mattheo leaves and Blaise just groans at the fact that Pansy’s still staring at him with wicked eyes.
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Mattheo Riddle
Mattheo watches you excitedly explain something to Hermoine at the Gryffindor table. When you catch him staring he winks at you and looks away. “Ahww.” Mattheo suddenly hears Pansy’s voice next to him, making him lose his appetite.
“It’s cute, but I don’t know in what male fantasy world, staring and winking makes a girl fall in love with you, but in this world it won’t work.” Mattheo’s tongue is poking the inside of his cheek as tries to ignore her presence.
“I might know what will make her fall in love.” Pansy whispers near Mattheo’s ear. His eyes search you and he finds you laughing with the Weasley twins, reminding him that you’re both worlds apart.
“Yeah, that’s great, go tell it to someone who cares.” Mattheo’s tone is calm, but his eyes are dark. He gets up and heads for the common room. Pansy raises an eyebrow at Mattheo’s sensitive behavior, before filling her plate without a care in the world. Apparently, someone’s still in denial of their feelings.
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Draco Malfoy
“What's up with that (y/n) girl?” Draco snars as he sits down in the great hall, making Pansy drop out of the conversation she was having.
“She’s wearing mismatching socks like some looney. Which is nearly as bad as that glittery thing she was wearing during the last quidditch game.” Pansy’s head was resting in her palm while enjoying Draco’s little rant.
“And what’s up with all those hearts that she draws next to her notes? Makes me sick.” Draco’s face fills with disgust and annoyance.
“Those hearts are because of you.” Draco looks up at Pansy, a blush immediately creeping up on his cheeks. “Really?”
“No. Of course not.” Pansy laughs and Blaise, who sits opposite of Draco, can’t help but snicker, earning himself a dirty look from Draco.
Pansy licks her lips, ready to play her game. “You sure know a lot about her. Been watching her? Or should I say stalking?” Draco gets a little nervous and avoids Pansy’s eyes. “I just notice things.” Pansy hums, not impressed with his answer.
“Then you’ve probably also seen her hang out with Diggory?” Draco snorts, unable to hide his frustration about the matter. “Yeah, what is that even about?”
“Maybe those little hearts on her notes have something to do with it.” Pansy watches Draco carefully so she can pinpoint the moment he realizes you might have a thing for Cedric.
“The girl obviously has no taste.” Is all Draco says before he starts picking at the food on his plate. Pansy smirks as Draco eyes land on your figure. Please, please, don’t let it be true.
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Theodore Nott
Theodore was lying in his bed with a book over his head avoiding everyone, but unfortunately Pansy is unavoidable. When he heard the door he didn’t react, but did listen to every step the person took to figure out who it was. Theo sighed when he came to the conclusion it wasn’t one of his mates, so it really couldn’t be anyone else but Pansy.
”What do you want?” Theodore snares when Pansy stops next to his bed. “No, need to be mean. I brought you overly expensive coffee.”
Theodore calms down and removes the book from his face. “Thanks, I guess.” Pansy rolls her eyes but offers him the coffee. Theo takes a sip, while carefully watching Pansy sit down on his bed. “What do you want?”
”Nothing! Is that so hard to believe?” Theo nods and takes another sip. Pansy scans the fresh bruise on his face and purses her lips. “I heard about the fight.” “Of course you did, why else would you be bringing me expensive coffee.”
“For what it’s worth, I think it’s sweet that you’re defending (y/n). What that guy said was outrageous.” Theo stares down the paper cup he is holding. He really didn’t need all of Hogwarts to know he punched a guy for calling you pretentious and fuckable. Especially since you and him weren’t exactly friends. “It had nothing to do with (y/n). He wasn’t watching where he was going and his dumbass walked into me on a bad day.”
“Punching people for walking into you, wow, you’ve been hanging out too much with Riddle.” Pansy sighs pretending to buy into his cool act.
“Theo, my dude, I found all the ingredients for that potion you were talking about! That piece of shit will never say a bad thing about (y/n) again!” Enzo’s enthusiastic face drops when he spots Pansy. “Oh hey Pans.”
Pansy smiles at Enzo and turns her face to Theodore with a victorious smirk. “I knew it.” Theo’s annoyed eyes roll to a very apologetic looking Enzo.
Did you spot a mistake or typo? Let me know, you’ll be rewarded with a virtual smootch!
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dotthings · 26 days
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You know who I feel sad for right now is Misha, because I think he wanted to be able to speak much much earlier than he was able to about Cas’s confession. We know he drafted an essay about Cas’s coming out…and then wound up not publishing it. Misha deserved to be able to talk about it in interviews the way Oliver Stark is able to about Buck. Misha mentioned it on zoom calls, briefly. And then it seems like he got yanked back by the PR machine and the nature of Cas’s confession wasn’t discussed on any SPN PR materials and for a time Misha was restricted on what he could say on CE Con stages.
At first, back then, for a few glorious days, I thought the stigma about queer Cas, about Destiel, had been lifted, finally, and then WB/CW brought the restrictions back down via PR. Oh you can have your confession scene, SPN, but corporate will control the narrative on how it’s spoken about or not.
We saw this thaw over time. (Anyone who claims otherwise or that Misha was always able to be open about it, is lying). Now Misha can speak openly about it and that shift began around the time when Chaos Machine really set up shop and changed a few con policies. So I’m happy for Misha that he can speak only about Cas being queer and what the confession means and Cas coming out, but he still has yet to be able to speak in depth about it in major PR. The openness about it comes out on con stage. At first it was non-CE Cons. Then finally he was more able to speak freely on CE Con stages.
Which leads me to another point, which is that, in fact, any of us who thought Cas was supposed to be in the series finale? We were right all along. The PR Misha filmed meant to mislead and misdirect about his last episode…PR misdirect to cover up so it could be a surprise, which makes sense and is sometimes how PR is run. Remember that the production shutdowns of the pandemic happened during the first days of filming 15.19. We found out eventually Dean and Cas were planned to be seen at the Roadhouse bar in Heaven together.
When they filmed 15.18 everyone thought Cas would at least cameo in 15.20. During the filming of 15.18 nobody directly involved knew how far Cas would be shoved out of the story, the actors didn’t know, the writer didn’t know, the director didn’t know, how far 15.20 would be stripped back, no one knew how reduced even mere mentions would be in 15.20.
I’ve talked about this before but a reminder how screwed the spn creatives who worked on 15.18 were, how screwed over the actors were.
You were right. If you thought that there was going to be at least some satisfaction and closure and Cas was going to have one more appearance before the end and it wouldn’t be able to be loud open canon, but something that implied mutual canon Destiel.
We were right. We were right all along.
Antis on twitter dot com can keep scratching and clawing and harassing and gaslighting and spewing phobic comments, denying what Jensen’s views are and dening that corporate censorship is real and that bi Dean is canonical via queer coding and queer Cas is now loud open canon and Destiel is mutual, via canon queer coding. Won’t change what happened here or that the intent was so, so much better and more than what 15.20 delivered, and the reason it fell apart was the production shutdown gave some parties high up too much time to think and then interfere and cut Cas out.
There is no more room to indulge media illiteracy and malicious denialism and trolling from antis.
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countryclubkook · 2 months
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thinking of topper’s gf cheating on him with rafe🤭
Favorite Secret
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader
Warnings: smut, cheating, mentions of alcohol, violence, blood, creampie, unprotected sex, P in V, not proofread
Summary: Your secret affair with Rafe almost goes terribly wrong when Topper decides to call in the middle of a hookup…almost
A/N: omg hii!! it’s been so so long since i’ve been on this account but I got a new job and a boyfriend🤭 life has been very very busy the last like year or so but I got the urge to write for my fav boy so I hope you guys enjoy this quick little fic🤍 and I hope all of you are well!
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“Fuck Rafe, feels so good oh my god” you cried out, arching your back as your eyes rolled back when his cock hit the perfect spot inside of you. It was fucked up, screwing around with your boyfriends best friend, especially when Topper treated you so well. He bought you everything you asked for, took you on nice dates, held the door open, complimented you. Never did anything to hurt you…until that night, until that one party changed everything.
“Ugh come on Top, i’m begging you to just come for like 10 minutes. If you still don’t want to be there after that we can leave and just come back here, watch movies or something” you’d been begging for the last hour, it was the biggest party of the year and his best friend was hosting but he said he was too tired to go. You knew it was actually just because there had been whispers on the island that Sarah planned to crash it with John B and their new pogue friends.
As much as he swore to you he was over it, you know that wasn’t true and you were fine with it. You trusted him, after all you were the one there for him when she broke his heart the first time, having to be the one to pick up the pieces every single time he gave her chance after chance, you knew what it’d done to him and his trust. Having to risk seeing her there with the guy she cheated on him with didn’t exactly sound like such a fun time.
“Listen I love you, but I really would just rather stay in tonight okay babe? There will be many more parties that we can go to in the future” he said, giving you a soft smile and cupping your cheek with his hand. He could see the disappointment on your face and felt bad, you were obviously excited about this and here he was shutting it down over rumors.
“Okay, whatever you want to do” you let out a defeated sigh and nuzzled your cheek closer into his palm, not wanting to argue over something like this. It just wasn’t worth it and you did enjoy nights in with just the two of you, plus he was right, there would be another party by next weekend.
“Damn it” he muttered under his breath before shaking his head slightly, “Okay okay, 10 minutes and that’s it, deal?” he barely got out the last word before you were squealing and throwing your arms around his neck He wrapped his arms around your waist and let out a small laugh, the smile on your face lighting up the whole room.
“Thank you thank you thank you! We’re going to have so much fun okay? You’re not going to want to leave by the time those 10 minutes are up, this is going to be the best night ever” famous. last. words.
Everything was great, the two of you were having the time of your life. Drinking and dancing together, talking with Rafe and a few of your other friends, then you slipped away for five minutes to use the bathroom, 5 minutes. Who knew so much could go wrong in just 5 minutes.
You walked out to see a crowd forming around two people and heard shouting, you’d expected to walk over and see two guys fighting like usual. Both of them far too drunk to even make contact with the other, but instead you saw your boyfriend on top of John B, his fist connecting to his cheek over and over and over again. You didn’t even like the kid but seeing blood and spit fly from his mouth and his gurgled wails of pain made you feel bad and you knew you needed to stop it.
You saw Rafe standing nearby watching, small smirk on his face as his eyes darted from the two boys to his sister begging Topper to stop while she sobbed. You walked up to him and touched his arm to bring his attention to you.
“Y/N! What’s up?” he said it so nonchalantly, like the scene in front of you wasn’t even happening. You knew he hates the pogues, hell you know he’d let John B die right then and there and feel no remorse, but he was the only one you knew had even the slightest chance of stopping it.
“Rafe you have to make them stop, it’s over okay? If you guys wanted to teach them a lesson i think they’ve learned it so can you please make it stop?” you could see him thinking about it, his brows furrowing ever so slightly and eyes going from you to Topper and John B to Sarah and then back to you.
“Mmm, I don’t know Y/N/N…kind of feel like he deserves it don’t you? I mean my slut of a sister cheats on my best friend, your boyfriend, with that good for nothing pogue and then they have the nerve to show up here? To rub it in his face? Why should I stop them?” he cocked his head and gave you a smirk, leaning against the wall with one hand in his pocket and the other wrapped around his red solo cup full of god knows what. You knew the only way to convince him was to use the one card you knew would work, the one you hated using against him in all the time you knew him.
“Because you don’t want your dad finding out about it. You’re not even supposed to be throwing parties here, what happens if a pogue ends up dead because of the party and Ward finds out? I couldn’t care less if he dies, i’m just trying to save your ass right now so please” you saw his jaw clench, watched his chest start rising and fall slowly, more heavily than before, and you knew it worked.
“Fuck! Fine, i’ll handle it” he yelled before throwing his cup on the ground and walking over to the two, by this point John B was barely conscious and it’s like Topper was in his own world. Rafe walked over and pulled him off by the collar of his shirt before ushering Sarah to attend to her boyfriend, screaming that the party was over and for everyone to get the fuck out.
People quickly dispersed, whispering to each other about what just happened, until it was just the three of you left at tannyhill. Top was still fuming, veins bulging out, sweat dripping down his forehead, chest rapidly heaving, knuckles bruised and bloody, a crazed look in his eyes. You tried to walk up to him to calm him down but it’s like he couldn’t even see you, he instead turned around and walked to his jeep before getting in and driving away, leaving you stranded.
“What the fuck?!” you screamed, standing at the bottom of the driveway watching the taillights disappear as they got further and further away.
You walked back up to the porch where Rafe was waiting, looking awkwardly at the ground unsure of what to say. What are you supposed to do in this situation other than offer them a ride…or in this case alcohol.
“I’m sorry Y/N, that was shitty of him. Give him some time to cool off and he’ll come back to his senses, if you uh, if you want you could just crash here. I would offer to drive you home but you know…” he said, making a brief gesture to himself “i’m kind of drunk so, don’t really want to risk hurting you. There’s plenty of alcohol if you want to just get drunk and pass out in the guest room, the beds freshly made and I think Sarah still has some clothes here that would fit you.”
“Thank you Rafe, that’s really sweet of you. Do you think you could um, stay with me? Just hang out here and talk, drink a little, I just don’t want to be alone right now” you sounded so pathetic, tear stained cheeks and puffy red eyes.
“Yeah, yeah absolutely”
One drink turned into another and then another, the both of you drunk and giggling while you talked. And then it happened, one little glance at his lips in a moment of shared silence, his hand tucking your hair behind your ear, and you were in his lap kissing him. His hands roaming all over your body until you were pulling away to tell him to take you to the bedroom.
Clothes flying, drunken squeals and giggles slipping out between your moans, the way he made you feel, those were the only things you can clearly remember. And then you woke up the next morning staring at his naked chest, but you didn’t feel guilty for it, instead you wanted it to happen again.
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And it did, it happened multiple times a week. Topper did apologize, made up for his behavior that night, but you’d already got a taste of Rafe and now you were hooked. He never suspected anything, didn’t notice the little shared glances between the two of you when you all hung out, the way Rafe’s hand would brush against your thighs, his little whispers in your ear that made you squirm, he was just happy you forgave him. You never thought you’d be at risk getting caught until now, when you were on all fours and Rafe was thrusting into you from behind, one hand tangled in your hair and the other gripping your hip to pull you back into his cock. The both of you were so lost in pleasure that Rafe almost didn’t hear his phone going off, he quickly moved to grab it off the table and answer it.
“Topper, what’s up man?” your eyes widened, panic starting to kick in. You’d thought it was over, he knew, someone had seen something and told him, he put the pieces together, he was calling to tell him he knew.
“Y/N? Yeah she came by to pick something up, said she left it here the last time you guys were over and she had to be out this way anyway. Think she’s still upstairs” you let out a moan when he thrusted back into you unexpectedly, turning your head back to look at him with a bewildered expression. He just gave a a smirk and held his finger to his lips before moving it back to your hip and pulling you back into him to meet each thrust.
You dropped your face into the mattress to muffle any loud moans, pure bliss taking over your body each time Rafe’s cock pressed against that little spot inside your pussy, hoping the call would be over soon. And then the son of a bitch flips you over, puts you on your back and gives you that look. You know, the one that just screams ‘i’m up to no good and you’re about to hate me for this’.
“What are you doing?” you whispered, looking up at him in confusion while trying not to make a sound.
“Actually, she just came down. You wanna talk to her real quick before she finishes up and heads that way?” if looks could kill he’d be six feet under right about now, you shook your head but it was too late, the phone was by your ear and you had no choice.
“Hey baby” it came out shakier than planned and you hoped he wouldn’t question it, it was a lot harder hiding the fact you were cheating on your boyfriend when the man you’re cheating with had his cock buried deep inside your pussy thrusting into you like his life depends on it while on call with said boyfriend.
“Is everything okay? You sound a little winded babe” he was always so concerned, wanting to make sure you were okay at all times if he even suspected something was wrong.
“Better tell him you’re okay princess, don’t let him find out his best friend is balls deep inside his girlfriends pretty pussy” Rafe whispered in your ear, leaving open mouth kisses along your neck and chest.
“Yeah, just a lot of running around the house looking for my ring is a-all” you stuttered out when Rafe pushed all the back into you again, biting your lip and squeezing your eyes shut.
“Okay…well I was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight? There’s this really nice restaurant i’ve been wanting to take you to, finally managed to get a reservation, and there was something I wanted to talk to you about” you weren’t even fully listening to what he was saying to be honest, you were paying more attention to how good you felt and the smell of Rafe’s cologne, the way his skin felt against yours, how your bodies seemed to mold together perfectly.
“Yea-yeah babe. Sounds great” you were about to let out a moan when long ring clad fingers found their way into your mouth and you, on instinct, bit down slightly.
“Great! I’ll be at your place to pick you up in like an hour okay? I love you”
“Great! Love you too bye” you quickly got out before hanging up and letting out a moan, digging your nails into Rafe’s back.
“Fuck baby i’m close, you want me to fill this pretty pussy with my cum? Want a little reminder that even if you’re with him, you’ll always be mine?” you could only nod, small whimpers filling the room.
A few more lazy thrusts before he pushed all the way into you and stayed there, feeling his cock twitch while he filled you with his cum. Your pussy clenching around him while you came at the same time, head thrown back and lips parted moaning his name, a white ring forming on his cock from your cum mixing with his. He pulled out after a few seconds and pulled you to your knees before sliding his cock in your mouth.
“Suck it off baby, just clean it up for me” and you did, licking every drop of your cum off his cock before he pulled out and got dressed.
You went to grab something to wipe the cum away when he stopped you.
“Nah, you go on your little date with my cum leaking out of you”
You gave him a dazed look before nodding and throwing your dress back on followed by your shoes, giving him a kiss and heading for the door.
“That was fun Rafe, i’ll call you later okay?”
“I know you will pretty girl, I look forward to it.” the smile on his face was genuine, not one that he had after a meaningless hookup, but one of true happiness. You brought out the best in him and he couldn’t even have you in any way other than this.
“Me too, I better go now. See ya” you were almost out the front door when you heard him yell your name. You turned around to see him leaning in the doorframe of his bedroom, waiting to see what he had to say.
“You’re my favorite secret”
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fictioninmyblood · 6 months
Text
I Meant That Shit
Summary: N’Jadaka gets tired of waiting for Y/N to forgive him and come home, so he decides to let Killmonger bring her back, kicking and screaming if necessary.
Warnings: 18+, noncon/con, smut, D/s themes, Entitled and pissed Erik being devious. Shouldthere be a warning for angst?
A/N: This was supposed to be short, but here we are. Enjoy my sexually starved thoughts.
A/N: Also, idk if this needs to be said, but I write for my demographic - black females. This has been my disclaimer/notice.
A/N: My work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than this) without my explicit consent and recognition.
After his reluctant rehabilitation, there weren't many things that brought out his killer instinct anymore. However, it seemed that lately, despite all the sparring, therapy, and meditation sessions, Erik couldn’t shake the urge to knock some sense into his girl Y/N. 
A few weeks prior when she told him she needed space and couldn’t stay in Wakanda and ignore her life anymore, he said some things. She took it the wrong way and told him they were over, as if.
When she first left, Erik was sure she’d break down and FaceTime him or use the kimoyo beads he taught her to use. She was always more vocal about missing him, so he just assumed she’d break down and restart their communication. Imagine his surprise when a whole two weeks rolled by without so much as a text, call, or video chat. He was desperate for anything from her, even a verbal lashing, but by the time a month came and went, he felt like a fiend going through withdrawal.
During week six, his excitement to finally lay his eyes on Y/N was quickly cut short when he realized she was still talking to his family even though he had been getting the silent treatment. That displeasing information lit him like a powder keg when he saw another man in Y/N’s background, getting dressed no less. T’Challa dragged him from Shuri’s lab ready to bust a gasket when his babygirl asked Shuri to go into a different room and his little cousin actually listened! His whole family was against him again it would seem.
When T’Challa got him back to his room, all he did was pace. It was ten full minutes of the king warily watching his cousin stew when M’Baku walked right into the line of fire as Erik turned to beat the shit out of his cousin. T’Challa easily dodged the current threat on his life as the giant grabbed Erik’s hands in one of his, quickly disarming him and making the pouting man even more enraged. 
“You all have been talking to her this whole time?” N’Jadaka roared.
“Just Shuri and I. She made us promise to let you figure it out for yourself, but you’ve been failing miserably cousin! Absolutely clueless!” T’Challa replied.
Erik struggled against M’Baku’s vice grip to no avail.
“No shit Sherlock. I’m gonna whoop yawls asses. M’Baku let me go.”
“Not until you promise to have a conversation with your mouth instead of your hands. I am not prepared to get involved in another war between you two.”
Erik took a few deep breaths. “Fine, I’m good.”
Once M’Baku was sure there would be no immediate violence he let go.
“You better start explaining real fucking soon T,” Erik spat, pointing an accusatory finger at T’Challa.
“Okay! Okay! Y/N is struggling to accept that you actually want her around long term!” T’Challa word-vomited.
If the prince wasn’t already enraged, the king and tribal chief would’ve laid out in hysterics at how N’Jadaka’s face screwed up. “How sway! How?!”
“From what Shuri has explained and I’ve gathered in my eavesdropping is that she thinks you only want to claim her without actually growing with her. Everything is on your terms, your way, in  your time. She’s been far more  patient than most would be with you so I can’t say she’s wrong.”
Erik jumped at T’Challa, scaring him and the big gorilla chief. “I oughta beat you up for keeping your mouth shut.”
“She and Shuri threatened me within an inch of my life and they scare me more than you. Besides, according to them, you can’t keep relying on us to figure out what’s going on in your relationship and I couldn’t find a valid disagreement.”
Erik nearly did slap T’Challa at the last sentiment.
“Aye aye!” M’Baku shouted, getting between the two yet again, “He is being truthful now. That counts eh? And if I may interject, I think you’re aiming your anger at the wrong person.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Erik said, deflating under the weight of that truth, “but his ass still bout to pay me back and I know just how.”
————-
A few hours later…
“You know, when I told you that you could pay me back with The Royal Talon Fighter, I didn’t expect you to tag along.”
“Who else was going to keep an eye on our Wakandan technology or keep you from murdering anyone in the vicinity of Y/N, especially any man?”
Erik rolled his eyes and huffed. “I guess.”
“Or Y/N from killing you for just showing up jealous despite being radio silent since long before she left Wakanda.”
“Alright alright! You made your point. Damn! Just drive the fancy metal.”
Erik was all confidence until the second they landed in Atlanta. Yeah, Killmonger was out for blood and was ready to bring their girl back kicking and screaming if necessary, but Erik N’Jadaka Stevens? He was a nervous fucking wreck.
T’Challa and M’Baku’s words really struck a nerve and he had nothing but time to stew over them on the ride to your family’s hometown ranch. Before he met you, Killmonger made all the decisions, kept him alive and ahead of the game, whatever game he was surviving at the moment. He lived like that for well over a decade when he met you, but you didn’t bat an eyelash at his swift mood swings, his bloodthirst, or his possessiveness, often putting him in place. You handled him with love and care, showing him how to become the softer version of himself without sacrificing your boundaries too much. He was quickly realizing that he sometimes pushed too hard, took too much, neglected your requirements. It was your stern patience, however, that was enough to allow you to become the first person to get him the person instead of him the killer to come out and communicate, interact, and live rather than survive. 
You did it for him a second time around when he came out of cryo too. He hadn’t told you anything about how he would go about his goals, opting just to disappear and execute so it was a surprise of a lifetime to wake up to your beautiful Y/E/C. After getting over his initial anger over you seeing the worst of him, you were the first person he responded to or let touch him during his recovery. Even going so far as not allowing the medical staff to redress his wounds if he was awake.
Only your touch soothed him, only your voice gave him peace. You made him less of a killing machine and more human again, made him want to address the tsunami of emotions and trauma that he lugged around. He didn’t want to jeopardize your willingness to be that for him but he recognized how you were always giving all you had just to receive an inch of progress from him. If that.
Unfortunately, all of his introspection and nervousness flew right out of the truck T’Challa had them in when he saw you walking up to your personal guesthouse with a man in tow. Killmonger immediately took the reins pushing him and his feelings down into the abyss, and leaping out of the car before T’Challa could come to a complete stop with his cousin calling after him.
“Y/N!” Killmonger shouted from the end of the long-ass driveway, rage evident in his voice.
Y/N was haphazardly trying to get her drunk cousin up the stairs while nervously dropping her keys when she heard Killmonger. She’s only encountered him a few times since meeting Erik, after the first time she brought him back to himself, he did his best to keep that part from her. It didn’t always work since any repressed feeling or issue the man had was poured into his alter ego, feeding his desire to be wild and untamed in his decision-making. So she knew he was out for blood with just the sound of her name.
She got the key in just as Killmonger got to the beginning of her walkway up to the house. As quickly as she could, she pulled her cousin in, slamming and locking the door in her partner’s face, leaving the beast to bang on her door and demand entrance.
“I’m not dealing with your bulldozing tactics Kill! You can come back when Erik is ready to face his fucking feelings and have an adult conversation!”
“If you know what’s good for you and that nigga in there, you better open this ghatdamn door Y/N!” He roared in response.
Y/N’s cousin couldn’t stop laughing, no matter how much she waved him off. Getting trashed 3 nights in a row after a bad breakup and crashing with his favorite cousin after hearing how she was hiding from both the world and the love of her life as well didn’t prepare him for seeing her so out of character. One second she was fleeing from the man, the next she was big and bad from behind a locked door in all her 5’5” glory. It was comical as hell to him.
“You know you look constipated when you cuss? Like that stick in your ass is fighting every syllable.” He said, immediately dying in another fit of laughter at his analogy.
“Who the fuck is that in there with you, Y/N, and don’t fucking lie!”
“The next man. Nice to meet you. You must be the ex.” her cousin shouted out in a drunken slur to Y/N’s horror.
Yeah, she knew she wasn’t in the wrong, and there was no reason to defend herself against this man, but she knew not to press certain buttons once Kill made an appearance. Her cousin, unfortunately, had no discernment to see that he had just pressed the biggest red button Kill had when it came to her.
Y/N watched the myriad of emotions that crossed Erik’s face through the peephole, praying to every ancestor and display of the creator she could think of that this man wasn’t going to go full psycho-killer on them both. The last thing she needed was him taking several steps back in his healing just to unnecessarily add another scar, maybe 2 with how pissed he looked. 
Y/N turned back to her cousin, ready to kill him for putting her in even hotter water, only to find that nigga was sleep, leaving Y/N to deal with the consequences on her own. 
As soon as she had that thought her ears piqued, taking in how silent it had gotten. All she could hear was the crunch of gravel as T’Challa finally pulled in and got out. When she peeked outside the peephole again, she was met with a confused T’Challa looking for Erik.
A chill ran up her spine and her blood ran cold as she slowly turned to her current worst fear; Killmonger pissed as hell, staring her down with a knife to her cousin’s throat.
“Give me one good reason not to paint your brand new carpet with this nigga’s blood Y/F/N then fuck you on the new color.”
Putting her hands up in a placating manner, Y/N slowly inched towards Kill, stopping when he dug the knife just slightly deeper, exposing a thin line of blood, as her cousin slept unawares.
Donning a submissive voice as if she was talking to a wild animal, “Erik, baby calm down.”
“Don’t baby calm down me! You out here giving other niggas what’s mine? Mine Y/N!”
“That’s not–”
“Don’t tell me that’s not what’s going on when you’ve been M.I.Fucking.A. for weeks! And the first thing I see both on video chat and in person is you with some random?! I’ll murder every nigga to ever touch you, keep tryna play me.”
“Nobody’s playing you Daka, look closer, you know him. I promise I haven’t been stepping out on you.” Y/N continued on, internally rolling her eyes at the toddler temper tantrum she had to placate this nigga out of. “My stupidly in love, trying to escape his own heartache, and loves drama when drunk cousin that you have met several times was just egging you on.”
Kill looked closer to the man’s face and released the filter of rage clouding his judgment, upon closer inspection he realized they’d met at several of the many family gatherings he’d attended with Y/N/N. Slowly easing the knife from her cousin’s throat, Erik struggled to fight back tears at his behavior. He was proving he wasn’t good enough for her, he hadn’t actually changed all that much. Kill took the reins once again, unwilling to let him process his feelings of abandonment and betrayal just yet. Rushing towards Y/N, he laid the knife flat on the side of her face, taking up residence on the other side.
Biting a huge hickey along her jawline, before grasping her earlobe in between his teeth, Killmonger growled, “So if you ain’t been fucking him, who you been fucking?”
Although Y/N knew she logically had nothing to feel guilty about, how he was questioning her made her want to lie down and worship him as an apology regardless. She took a deep breath to center herself, understanding that any sign of nervousness would be taken as an omission of guilt.
Y/N ran her hands up his arms and over his shoulder blades to hold his face in her palms. He reluctantly released her earlobe to allow her to face him, naturally allowing the blade to rest against her neck ever so gently.
“N’Jadaka. Erik, baby? Look at me, I have been trying to live without you miserably for the last few weeks. I’ve only been going out since Y/C/N got here and I have to beg for breaks because I’m basically his chaperone. You believe me don’t you?”
Erik looked at her with suspicion clouding his eyes. He dropped the knife and held her throat in his hands, squeezing just tight enough to hint to either pleasure or pain, pushing her against the front door.
“Ion know. Why should I?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
Y/N took a chance and palmed his face, caressing his cheekbone with her thumb. “Cause you know that no matter how much you stress me out, isolate yourself from me, or threaten anyone who seems to have more access to me than you, that I love your crazy ass.”
Erik squeezed a little tighter, not enough to hurt her but enough to reassert his dominance. Y/N put a hand over his, doing her best to ground herself in the feeling of his hands rather than how much she wanted to cum from the pressure of them.”
“Sorry,” Y/N squeaked out, “I love every version of you, no matter how threatening any of them may be and I physically can’t stand to have anyone else touch me the way I let you touch me.”
“Say it again.”
“I love you?”
“Nah, princess, the other part.”
“No matter how threatening-” she started, but was cut off by the growl emanating from Erik’s chest and the pulsing release and pressure of him allowing her small gasps of air. “You know what I mean Y/N, don’t test me lil mama.”
Erik held his squeeze on her neck, tilting it ever so slightly to lick the side of her face and hold her earlobe between his teeth, tugging.
Y/N couldn’t hold back the guttural moan if she tried. Just barely keeping her eyes from rolling back and donning her sweetest sub voice, she said, “I physically can’t stand to have anyone else touch me the way I let you touch me big daddy. It literally makes me nauseous.”
Erik released her ear with a wet snap against her face, “It does?”
Y/N hummed and nodded her head as best she could in her current predicament.
Killmonger covered the forgiving face Erik started to make, replacing it with one of his stern, unyielding looks. “Then why you leave me and give me the silent treatment for weeks?”
Y/N whined at the tightening of his hands, closing her eyes to savor the pleasure only he could illicit lighting her body on fire.
Erik bit her bottom lip roughly, nearly drawing blood. “That’s not an answer.”
Losing the battle against her libido and subspace, Y/N whined again.
In a faux sweet voice Erik said, “Awww, is little mama already too far gone in her head thinking about all the ways imma mark you.”
Y/N nodded again, lost in the many images she’d acquired from her sexual experiences with Erik and Kill over the years.
“Good.” And with those words, Y/N was suddenly looking at Erik’s ass and the floor as he stomped upstairs to her bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.
He tossed her on the bed and roughly stripped her of her clothes, halter top first, bottoms and panties all in one fell swoop last, leaving her heels on.
He positioned her over his knee and popped her cheeks until her bottom was flushed with his favorite shade of reddish purple and warmed his hands with the heat she emanated.
By the time he was done, Y/N wanted to be a ball of tears, but could only sniffle, her voice too shy to make an appearance when Kill took the reins of their scenes like this for fear of upsetting him further.
Erik used his knee to spread her legs open far enough to see her flower drenching her thighs in her nectar for him. He took two fingers to swipe some of it onto them for him to put in his mouth and savor, groaning at how much sweeter she seemed to have gotten since last he held her.
He laid her onto the bed and got up to undress himself, slapping her already sore ass when she didn’t move a muscle.
“You know what’s up. Face down, ass up lil mama.”
Y/N groaned but slowly inched her way into position. Already feeling like jello, she barely put an arch in her back, struggling not to lay back down and pass out.
Killmonger was not happy with that. After he’d removed everything except his grills and chain he let both his palms come down on her cheeks simultaneously.
Sounding more animal than human, “If you don’t assume the position like you got some sense, I swear to the gods Y/N.”
She was still lethargic, but was eager to experience less of his painful assaults and more of the pleasurable ones that she knew were around the corner. It took all of her strength but she was able to inch herself into position, deepening her arch just the way he demanded with her arms by her side and her cheek resting against the comforter.
“Good girl.”
With how pliant she was to his commands and the evidence of how much she trusted and wanted him dripping down her thighs, it took all of his restraint not to plunge himself into her until he felt her cervix try to push him back out.
Y/N smiled faintly at the praise, humming and wiggling her ass in response.
Killmonger grasped her wrists as he knelt to get up close and personal with his pussy. He spread her lips so he could get an eyeful of her throbbing clit and blew on it, eliciting a guttural moan from Y/N, before replacing his hand back on her wrist.
“Just you wait mamas, you gonna be screaming and crying by the time I’m done with you.”
He licked her juices on both thighs, leaving hickies all over them both before he finally put his whole face in her pussy and ate. If it wasn’t for the grasp he had on her wrists, she would have collapsed immediately.
Erik was a good kisser in general, but Killmonger was a master at french kissing, especially her pussy, until she was questioning whether or not she still wanted the pleasure. Those deep soul sucking kisses always made her question her sanity.
He slurped up and suctioned her clit into his mouth like that’s where it belonged, flicking it with the tip of his tongue until she came with a silent scream, without ever releasing her tiny bud. Then he released it with a pop only to hold her lips open and spit directly onto her hole, watching his saliva drip down onto her clit. He flattened his tongue and licked like the dog he could be until she was a whining, moaning mess, tears streaming down her face just as promised. 
Once the first sound hit his ears, she couldn’t stop the noises he was pulling from her if she was mute, let alone at the mercy of his insatiable thirst for her most animalistic responses.
Kill continued his assault with his tongue, moving through her folds in a rhythm only he knew. After he’d gotten two more orgasms from her that way, Y/N alternating between screaming and crying, he latched his plush lips back around her clit, assaulting the sensitive bundle of nerves, and plunged his two most trustworthy fingers into her, immediately finding her gspot and caressing it with an incessant ‘come hither’ motion until she was squirting and creaming uncontrollably. Not willing to let go just yet he dragged it out for what seemed like forever since she briefly lost consciousness and came to, lips still parted in the O of her silent screams, with his mouth still eagerly slurping up the waterfall his fingers were responsible for. All Y/N could do was turn her head the other way to watch what she could see of him, whining and moaning.
When she could barely release any more spurts he released her, licking his hand, fingers, and forearm clean as he slowly stroked his hard as steel member. 
In the great deep of her sex haze, Y/N mumbled, “He brought dick too? How are we gonna survive dick too when he almost killed us with just his mouth and fingers.”
Erik chuckled at her ramblings, proud that he was, as usual, responsible for her senseless words.
When his precum made an appearance, he swiped it up with his thumb and rubbed it into her pussy, almost immediately replacing his thumb with the tip of his dick. Wanting to savor this moment of finally being able to reconnect with his pussy, he played with her, just like that. Rubbing the tip of his dick in both of their juices, up and down her pussy lips, circling her clit, and coming to apply just enough pressure to her desperately clenching hole, only to rinse and repeat. On and on he went, teasing them both until his quietly whimpering babygirl was back to guttural whines.
He knew she was right where he wanted her mentally when she started begging.
“Please big daddy, I’m so sorry. Please baba E, please baba, please. Please please please please please pleaaaaaasssssseeeeee.”
When he was good and ready, he pulled her up by her throat until she was flush against him, licked her tears from her cheek, and forced her to look him in the eyes.
“You don’t do that disappearing and silent treatment shit ever again Y/N. You hear me?”
Y/N nodded and blinked at him with a puppy eyed look that damn near melted the ice caps of his attitude, but he was quick to remind her who’s big daddy in their relationship.
“When I told you, you were mine, I meant that shit mama.”
“Yes, baba,” Y/N squeaked out.
He tongued her down with one of his sloppy french kisses and as soon as he felt her body relax in his hold, he did exactly what his body had been begging for since the second he saw her. He pushed himself into her until he felt the tip of her cervix try to push him all the way back out, savoring the fucked out look she wore as her body spasmed with the unexpected orgasm, he held them there letting her ride it out. 
In this moment he was grateful for the years of curated discipline since the way her pussy clamped onto him almost triggered his own mind numbing orgasm. Although he successfully staved off his nut, he couldn’t stop the way all of his fight was knocked right out of him.  Finally rid of the aggression that his Killmonger personality oozed, Erik was able to finally take in his queen, his Y/N, in all her sex hazed glory.
When she finally came down from her high he started moving, giving her slow and deep strokes as he showered her face and neck with kisses, hoping his attempt at lovemaking showed her just how priceless she was to him, how desperate he’d been without her.
Kiss, “I’m sorry too mamas,” kiss “I know how much you love me and I don't understand why,” kiss, “you,” kiss, “insist,” kiss, “on pouring all of the best parts of yourself into me.” He couldn’t help but shed a tear at the relief he felt, having her in his arms again. “I promise to do better,” kiss, “to listen and pay attention more,” kiss, “to treat you like the empress you are,” kiss, “just say you’ll come home with me,” kiss, “promise you’ll take your rightful place by my side mamas,” kiss, “claim your right as my queen.”
Y/N was a moaning, whining mess, barely holding onto consciousness and shedding her favorite kind of tears, just as promised.
Erik tucked his face into her neck, struggling to keep himself from cumming too soon since her pussy was gripping him like a boa constrictor, indicating that yet another orgasm wasn’t too far.
He held himself in the deepest parts of her and put a little whine in his hips. “Please mama, come home with me.”
Just when he thought he could hold out no longer she arched into him and screamed yes over and over, overwhelmed with her orgasm, and squirted all over them both. Erik came in her almost at the exact same time, his orgasm nearly knocking him out with how it overcame him from head to toe. Both of them slumped into the bed.
By the time he finally started to get up, her screams had quieted back to whimpers.
Erik slowly and gently removed her heels from her feet, massaging the soles with just the right amount of pressure.
He cleaned both of them with a warm washcloth and ran the tub, placing some bubble bath soap, epsom salt, essential oils, and dried rose petals in the water. Wanting to balance out the intrusive way he barged back into her life, he lit some candles and incense as well, and placed his favorite body oil of hers on the counter.
When he came back to get her in the tub, she was silently staring into space in the same place and position he left her. After he got her to turn over and sit up, he scooped her into his arms bridal and brought her to the tub, gently placing her into the suds.
Once he saw her relax he went back to the bedroom to strip and change the sheets, wanting their transition back into the room to be seamless. When he came back into the bathroom her head was leaned against the edge of the tub, eyes closed, and tears were streaming down her face, alarming him to the fact that although he’d won the battle, he was still losing the war with treating his girl with the care she really was looking for from him.
Choking up himself, he kneeled next the tub and leaned over her face, kissing the droplets left behind.
“I’m so sorry mamas. You know that right?” His voice cracked at the end.
Although she started nodding yes, she ended up shaking her head no.
“Can you open your eyes for me please?”
Y/N shook her head no again.
“Pretty please?”
Again she shook her head no. She was too scared to look him in his eyes, anytime he touched her or they made eye contact she folded to his desires and needs, abandoning her own.
A little defeated, but determined to win all of her back, not just her body, Erik switched tactics.
“May I get into the tub with you and hold you?”
Y/N hesitated a few moments before she nodded yes. As soon as she heard the rustle of him standing back up she scooted forward allowing him to sit behind her.
Once he was seated, Erik gently pulled her into him, urging her body to use him as she did the edge of the tub. The moment she relaxed in his embrace, head lolling slightly to the left, he started kissing up and down her neck from where her ear met her face to her collarbone.
When he felt enough time had passed, he tried to get her to open up to him again.
“Lil mama?”
Y/N hummed.
“Tell me what’s on your mind please, I promise to listen.”
Y/N held up her pinky and asked, “Pinky promise?”
Erik locked his pinky with hers and brought her hand to his lips, softly talking against it, “Pinky Promise.”
She pulled her hand away, putting it back in her lap to join the other one, under the water.
Taking a deep breath she started.
“Am I a toy to be played with Daka?” Erik was ready to answer but kept silent, knowing she needed to get all of her thoughts out before he interrupted her. “To be taken out of storage to be used and then tossed aside when you’re not getting the desired result anymore?”
Rubbing the sides of her thighs and suddenly very scared, he said, “ no mamas.”
“Then why do you get to demand time and attention and energy from me, but when I ask for a sliver of honest communication, the smallest amount of all three resources you have to offer me, you shut me out? Why is it only okay for you to communicate what’s going on with you and us when you feel like it, when it's convenient? Why do I always have to beg for you to lean on me, to use me softly? Why do I have to beg you to let me hold you. Why don’t you ever just ask? Why do I have to grovel at your feet to be held by you? Why is the only time you make love to me when you’re trying to win me back? Why?” 
By the end of her list, Y/N was sobbing. Erik wrapped his arms around her body and tucked his chin in the curve of her neck and let a few tears drop himself before he answered.
“I don’t know mamas. I guess…,” he wiped the tears from his face and gulped down the rising tsunami of emotion that she so easily created with just a few sentences before he wrapped his arm back around her, “...I guess I’m just terrified.”
“Of what baby? Haven’t I been here? Haven’t I done the best to support you with all that I am, to remain honest with you and show you that I am loyal to our future?”
He kissed her shoulder and said, “you have. I just-”
Y/N pulled out of his arms to finally look him in the eye, “You just what? Aren’t my efforts to build a life with you enough?”
Erik palmed her face and gave her a deep kiss, hoping to transfer all of his emotion into it.
He put his forehead against hers and said, “I’m just so fucking terrified of losing you. To have the warmth of your love snatched away at a moment's notice. I’m terrified in a way I haven’t been in so fucking long that I just convince myself that its better to pull away and show you how unworthy I am of the full magnitude of your love.”
He pulled away and kissed her forehead, grateful she was finally looking him in the eyes again. “But this time of separation showed me I am nothing without you, just a hollow shell, no love to warm my soul and bones. Even the care and concern of my family isn’t enough to fill the abyss that’s created in your absence.”
Y/N swiped away the stray tears from his face, “that’s-”
“I know. Super intense.”
“Yes. But I was gonna say a relief to hear. You never really give me any verbal confirmation that you feel as deeply for me as I do for you unless I say I love you first.”
“I know mamas, but I promise to do better, be better, for you.”
Y/N pecked his lips. “No Baba. For you. You need to talk your feelings out loud so you can hear it too. You need to know that the only reason you’re able to love me so deeply is because you love yourself that deep, if not deeper, first. Understand?”
Erik smirked, yet again grateful that he had such a wise and loving partner who always held up the pieces of mirror he’d sworn he’d broken to pieces.
“Yea lil mama, I understand.”
“Good…,” Y/N kissed him again, deepening the kiss but teasing him slightly with how lightly she moved her lips against his. When she pulled away, she almost regretted bursting his bubble. “...cause I’m not going back with you until I’m ready.”
Erik’s face instantly fixed itself into a scowl. “But-”
Y/N held a finger to his lips. “I said when I’m ready, not never. I came home to get back to taking care of me, love me, and understanding what my needs are.”
His pout deepened.
“And I learned that I need to stop jumping when you say jump. So I go back when I feel that I’m ready, not because you showed up and demanded it of me. Okay?”
He was a little deflated, but still holding onto the hope of her eventually coming back with him.
“Okay, but I’m staying with you until you’re ready.”
“But-.” 
It was Erik’s turn to hush her with a finger. “I already know what you’re going to say and my duties will be waiting for me when we go back together. Now that you’re back in my arms I’m in no hurry to lose the privilege again.”
“You’re not!”
“You’re right, cause I’m staying.”
All Y/N could do was chuckle, understanding that she’d lost this battle and relishing in the fact that she won the war. It seemed he was finally starting to understand what she needed because although she was indeed going to complain about him having responsibilities to return to, she really did need him to stay. That abyss he had was mirrored in her heart and only time with him would close it back up.
Both satisfied that they worked through the root issue, they went back to enjoying the bath, Y/N comfortably resting her head against Erik.
When they were all pruney and the water was verging on cold, Erik stood them up to drain the tub and turned on the shower to rinse them both. After he dried them both, he quickly lotioned his body with shea butter, grabbed the body oil and guided Y/N hand in hand, back into the bedroom.
He laid her on her back first to moisturize and massage her front, kneading out all of the tension she held. When he was working his way back up from her feet, he couldn’t help but get stuck between her thighs, using his thumbs to massage circles up them until he reached her pussy again.
Y/N slightly parted her legs, letting one bend and fall open for easy access. He immediately used one hand to part her lips so he could see her clit clearly.
Erik leaned down to softly kiss her clit a few times before he pulled away and used the thumb on his other hand to rub slow circles. He admired her form as he brought her to orgasm leisurely. 
He went back to massaging her thighs until she returned from the heights of her pleasure.
His voice was more gruff than he wanted when he told her, “turn over.”
She easily compiled and continued his massage, paying extra attention to her sore ass.
When Y/N was 2 more seconds away from sleep and he was satisfied with his work he urged her under the covers and joined her. She tried to grab his hardened member to return the favor but he grabbed up her hands, kissing them to soften the blow.
“No, I needed to show you how softly I can treat you, I don’t need to cum right now. Sleep.”
Y/N pouted and whined, wanting to feel him connected to her again.
She lifted her leg over his as they faced each other and inched as close as she could with her hands in his, feeling his dick graze her pussy lips.
Putting a little more base in his voice, “Ay! What I just say lil mama?”
She whined out, “I don’t care, I just need to feel you in me Baba.”
Erik grunted. 
Y/N donned her best puppy dog pout and begged with her words and body, wiggling in his hold and being able to feel the lightest brush of his hot skin. “Pleeeeeeaaaaassssseeee?”
“Fine, but careful what you asked for…” he said, sheathing himself in one stroke and stilled her hips before she could start moving. “...you just might get it.”
He released her hands and tongued her down, palming her face.
“Sleep Y/N.”
“But,” she said, her face scrunching in confusion.
“You can keep me warm, but that’s it for now, okay?”
She started to whine again but was cut short when he wrapped the hand palming her face around her throat.
“Sleep mamas. You’re going to need all of your energy in the morning.”
She wasn’t necessarily happy, but she also wasn’t necessarily dissatisfied. She did get her wish after all.
“Ok.”
Y/N tucked her head under his chin and started to drift before she sleepily said, “thank you for showing me how much you care Baba E. I’m really happy you’re here.”
Erik kissed her forehead and squeezed his arms a little tighter around her.
“Thank you for letting me.”
He was answered with her cute snores and let the sound lull him into the best sleep he’d had in too long of a while.
665 notes · View notes
fangswbenefits · 10 months
Text
Broken
𓂅 𓄹 Summary: You wonder if Miguel is broken beyond repair, because he surely believes that.
𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader
Angst + hurt/comfort (some fluff)
To say you were pissed off would be the understatement of the year. There was only so much a single person could withstand when it came to this.
You kept shoving your belongings hurriedly inside your backpack, determined to leave his place before crossing paths.
It would be better this way. For everyone involved.
That was until you caught sight of flashes of electric red outside the bedroom window.
“For fuck’s sake…”
You took pride in being fast, but Miguel O’Hara was faster and far more relentless, and before you could react, he was standing tall beside you. “Hey.”
Your spine snapped straight like a whip and you glared at him. Unmasked and unmoving. There was guilt written on all over his face, which fueled your anger even more, because now you knew you were justified in your feelings.
“Bye,” you said, slinging the backpack over your shoulder and heading towards the open window ready to take a dive into the cool air of Nueva York.
“We should talk,” he called from behind you.
“Nah, we’re done.”
“Let’s talk.”
You turned back around, walking straight into his chest.
“I’m done with you,” you said with an indignant growl.
“You’re not being reasonable,” he said.
“Reasonable?!” you hissed. “You let our personal relationship get in between work! You dismissed my perfectly adequate advice during that mission, because I’m just some toy to you or whatever.”
He held up a finger. “Now, see, that’s the issue. You keep misunderstanding things.”
“Okay,” you huffed, reining in your temper as you planted your fists on your hips. “Tell me why you ignored my advice — no, tell me why you always do this. I’ve been here for years and any new recruit has more of a say than I do! Is that because we’re fucking, huh?”
You hadn't bothered to keep you voice down, which you knew was a sure way to get on his nerves, but you couldn’t care less.
But evidently Miguel did care. “Can you calm down so we can talk?”
“You don’t take me seriously,” your went on. “I mean, what is this? I don’t know what to do with whatever it is we have — had,” you promptly corrected yourself. “We screw around, I then try to prove myself on the field, and you shut me down like I’m a nuisance.”
You were about to turn to leave through the window when he held it one hand to you, causing you to roll your eyes and folding your arms. “You’re not sweet-talking your way out of this.”
“That's alright, then.”
Miguel’s hand fell to his side, and he just stood there in silence, eyes boring into yours.
You scowled at him. “Well?” you demanded. “Go on. Why so quiet now?”
“I know you’re upset with me,” he said, face hardening.
“Nice observation skills.”
“I shouldn’t have been that harsh,” he sighed.
You scoffed. “It keeps happening, so it’s a habit by now. We’re both old enough to know fully well how to separate personal from professional, right?”
“I do, but you don’t,” he said simply. “You need to understand my position here. It’s a great deal of responsibility, and you can’t expect to be favoured just because we got involved.”
“Excuse me? I never expected favouritism.”
“But it sure looks like it. Look,” he exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “In here, you have my attention, but out there I need to have yours. For the sake of each mission.”
Your stomach flipped at his words. “Attention? What attention, Miguel? Aren’t we just fuck buddies? Wasn’t that the understanding?”
His shoulders slumped. “Initially, yes. And I could stand here and blame it on you, but it’s entirely my fault.”
“Now, why would I be blamed? And for what?” you asked impatiently. There was this unshakeable feeling creeping in on you telling you he was merely speaking in riddles with the sole intent of being purposefully vague. “Are we just going to throw blame at—”
“Because you have feelings for me!” Miguel’s temper finally exploded.
Your mouth dropped open in shock, but no sound came out.
An empty silence weaved around you, filled only with the beeping sound of Miguel’s watch which he promptly silenced.
He had made it abundantly clear that your relationship was purely built on the principle of mutual pleasure. You both had needs, and it was a very straightforward ‘you scratch my back, I scratch yours’ type of deal — albeit concerning different body parts.
Miguel broke the deafening silence first. “Trust me, it was against my better judgment.”
“Why didn’t you stop, then?”
There was no point in denying the feelings you harboured for him. There was only so much intimacy one could experience with someone else before other thoughts crept through your mind.
But what really made your heart clench was that mownyou knew that he knew, and it made things worse. So much worse.
Miguel took a long and deep breath. “Because by the time I realised how you felt, I found myself enjoying your company more than I had anticipated.”
“What does that even mean?”
“I should have stopped it,” he went on. “I don’t like dealing with attachments. Those lead to liabilities.”
Well, you’d sworn to yourself not to cry because of this. But the lump was in your throat and your eyes stung, and when you spoke your voice had turned into a whisper. "You should have told me," you said through clenched teeth.
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because I didn’t want to put that pressure on you!” you exploded, feeling your eyes water. “I knew it was one-sided, so what would be the point? But knowing that you now know just makes me feel so…”
Miguel paced to his bed, taking a seat by the edge. “This is why I said it’s my fault. I can’t have this in my life.”
Your eyes widened. “Have what?”
“This!” he grunted, motioning with both hands to the two of you. “This is what I do. I get involved and fuck things up.”
“You can’t control how others feel about you,” you said as you brushed a teardrop with the back of your hand. “All I want is your respect.”
“You have it.”
“Then show it! Your words mean nothing if you don’t act accordingly.”
Miguel let out an exasperated sigh. “You want what I can never give you.”
“Respect?”
He shook his head. “Love.”
The word carved into you like a dagger and not because it was a lie, but because it was painfully true.
“Why do you think I fell for you? The sex? Sure, it’s great or whatever,” you said, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. “No, Miguel. You showed me a side of you that you show no one else. You made me feel special.”
He seemed taken aback, but said nothing.
“Everyone here thinks you’re cold and distant and some vessel of righteousness,” you went on, feeling a couple of droplets stream down your face and leaving a damp trail behind. “You want everyone to think that, but you are not that person.”
Miguel scoffed, breaking eye contact with you. “You don’t know the first thing about me.”
“Oh, but I do,” you take a few steps closer to him, wanting him to stare back at you again. “It won’t kill you to feel something other than anger and resentment, you know? We’re humans. It’s in our nature to bond with others—”
“But we’re not really regular humans, are we?” he scowled deeply, crimson eyes narrowing at you. “I haven’t been with anyone since…” his voice faltered, hands gripping his thighs tightly. “I’m too broken.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”
You saw something twist his features. Miguel didn’t like being challenged. He was so terrible at handling his emotions, that anything that he couldn’t control he grew to resent.
“I wanted you to hate me,” he said abruptly. “During missions… just like what happened today.”
“What? Why?”
“Because making you hate me felt easier than me not having feelings for you.”
There it was.
That sentence alone was enough to have your lips quiver shut, heart thumping loudly and head feeling dizzy.
“You’re an idiot,” you managed to say after a while.
“What?”
The sudden flare of rage nearly consumed you. “How could you even think that? How broken are you to convince yourself that you’re not worthy of having normal feelings for someone else?”
“Because I can’t afford it,” he explained as he rose to his feet. “The moment I give into my feelings for you, you become a liability.”
You shrunk away, feeling suddenly really tiny. “I think us getting involved was a mistake.”
He looked at you, surprised. “You’re just saying that because you know this isn’t going anywhere.”
“No, I'm saying it because I feel guilty,” you murmured, hugging yourself for comfort. “I will never understand what you’ve been through. I won’t pretend I ever will,” you paused momentarily, pondering your next words. “But I feel selfish for wanting more.”
“I'm a selfish kind of man, too,” he remarked evenly.
You nodded.
He took a step towards you and you took one back, bumping unexpectedly into the wall. Miguel seemed caught off guard by your reaction and froze, hands held up. "I’m not going to ask you to continue this.”
“It’s better that we don’t,” you whispered unconvincingly. “I’ll get over you.”
“Yes,” he said with a shrug, reaching out to touch a hand to your cheek. “I totally agree.”
You nearly melted into a puddle at his touch. It was like a punch to the stomach, knowing that he could so easily get under your skin.
“I don’t know how to fix this.”
You swallowed hard. “You don’t have to. I don’t want you to feel forced to be with me.”
“Too late for that.”
Your eyes zeroed in on his and he froze under the ferocity of your glare. “It’s fucking sad, Miguel. That it took things getting out of control for us to have an honest conversation.”
“I agree,” he said. “But maybe it was necessary.”
He was now stroking your cheek, and as much as you wanted to flinch away from his touch, he had somehow managed to melt your insides.
He leaned closer and you snapped your face away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of submitting.
His lips were near your ear. “Do you want to part ways?”
Your jaw clenched.
“I’ll respect your decision.”
You screwed your eyes shut, blocking him out and seeking clarity. “What if I think we should give it a try?”
“Then we must set boundaries,” he said, breath fanning your ear. “You’re an amazing spider-woman.”
You gave him a cynical snort.
“And I think we shouldn’t be paired in further missions unless strictly necessary. At least until we figure this out.
You shared the sentiment, but also craved reassurance. “But you need to let me in, Miguel. I can give you space whenever you need it, but you can’t keep building these walls around you,” you took a deep sigh. “You don’t have to with me.”
His hands were moving down your sides, and you let your backpack slide down one arm, falling to the ground. He came to rest his chin on the top of your head.
“I know.”
Having him this close to you never failed to make your heart flutter.
“I’m sorry,” he said, bringing both arms to cradle your face, pulling you into his chest. “I don’t deserve you.”
Somehow, that confession brought a faint smile to your lips. “No, you don’t.”
“Was that a smile?”
“No,” you huffed in annoyance.
“I think that was a smile.”
“Stop it. You sound as obnoxious as Lyla,” you mumbled.
“Well, I did program her,” he said, hands caressing the back of your head adoringly. “Are you calling me obnoxious?”
“Maybe.”
“Ouch,” he feigned pain in his voice.
Your stubbornness crumbled at once and you finally wrapped your arms around him.
“How could you ever think your feelings were one-sided?” he whispered, lulling you in his arms. “Silly, silly spider.”
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Masterlist
1K notes · View notes
moonlightspencie · 1 year
Text
bloodmoonlit
Description: Six years of friendship with more simmering beneath the surface. They thought they had no chance (but that’s romance).
Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader
Warnings: drinking (a lot of it tbh), both of em being massive dorks, 18+ pls bc it gets mildly spicy at the end
Word Count: 5.4k
A/N: glitch is one of the best songs on midnights & nobody can convince me otherwise. anyways i didn’t proofread this sorry but i’m selfish
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She was a hunter. He was… Also a hunter. Classic meet-cutes get a lot less cute when you’re meeting over the corpse of a wendigo.
Dean looked at her with awe and wonder after watching her use a flamethrower to take down a few wendigos that had started in on him. She lowered it like it was nothing after they stopped screeching into the night.
“Hey,” she greeted with a little smile. “You’re one of the Winchester boys, aren’t you?”
“Dean.”
“You’re like a modern-day folklore story, you know that?”
He chuckled, sure to make a comment about the flamethrower at the first chance. He got her number at the second chance.
They made fast friends at that point, both relentlessly flirting. Both never quite sure to what degree the other meant it.
Dean always found himself making trips towards wherever she was more often that what may be considered necessary. She never intentionally ran into him, but if she saw that impala roll up to a case, she always obliged her time. Especially if that meeting happened in a crowded bar where she could relish in the feeling of his attention being placed on her rather than anyone else who would immediately say yes to a night at his motel. Those green eyes sparkling as he chatted her up like they were the closest of friends.
Until they were the closest of friends, of course.
“How’s, uh…” Dean trailed, trying to think. “Was it Matthew?”
She snorted. “Didn’t last long.”
“Why not?”
“Never do,” she said curtly, sipping at her drink. “Non-hunter relationships don’t exactly work for me. They end up with too many questions too quick.”
He hummed, looking down at his own drink. She watched him for a moment, letting herself take a moment to admire the way neon lights bounced off his face. He always seemed to look extra pretty that way.
“Situationships,” she stated as a start, “That’s what pretty much everything I get into ends up as. Whatever works in the moment, no real strings.”
“And yet you always talk about wanting to be tied down,” he said with a smirk.
“Always is a big word,” she replied with a laugh. “I think someday I’d like that. Just don’t think it’s compatible with who I am right now.”
“You think you’re gonna change?”
“I’m always changing. That’s life, right?”
He shrugged. “I don’t think I’ve changed much.”
She laughed.
“I’ve known you for a year, and even in that time you’ve gotten a little different.”
He quirked a brow. “How so?”
“Laugh a little less, but still seem a bit happier. More accepting of life as it is, I guess.”
He sat with that for a moment, then nodded.
“I’ve had to. Every time I get stubborn, I end up screwing everything up.”
“Hey,” she said softly, pulling him out of his own head before he dug too deep, “You’re always learning. Always growing. Don’t beat yourself up.”
He smiled softly, letting her words carry him out of that out. They tended to do that more and more as he faced everything the world threw at him. His affection slowly morphed into more, and he tried not to panic about it. He did what he always did best: buried it as deep as it could go.
She realized her own feelings shifting, but her realization slammed into her like a truck. They were supposed to be just friends.
It all started with little chance meetings which turned into weekly calls which turned into “Do you want to stay with Sam and I? We’ve got a permanent place now”.
She ended up moving in shortly after the boys did. Three years of knowing them, she never expected to be living with them. Especially after all they’d gone through.
Granted, she helped with some of it. She was there when they had to cram Sam’s soul back in his body. She was there for the rise and fall of Dick. She was there when Dean came back from Purgatory.
She just wasn’t constantly with them. Only a kind of side-character in their grand adventure. Now, however…
“I think that’s all,” she said, dropping a few bags on her bed.
“Oh, right, because this isn’t over-doing it at all,” Dean said, humor lacing his voice.
She narrowed her eyes at him, then looked back around the empty room.
“I just— I’m excited to feel at home. I haven’t had a real place in…” she stopped, sighing.
“Yeah, I get it,” Dean spoke up, slinging an arm around her shoulder. “I was so excited to have my own bed, you have no clue.”
“I have some clue. You sent me like fifteen messages about it within the span of ten seconds,” she laughed.
“I love that memory foam, what can I say?”
“How about you get useful and help me set up shop here?” she asked, smiling at him as he already started pulling items out of the bags.
The bunker was like a hunter paradise in her eyes. She got the chance to have a place to call home. She got her own room, a million lore books, Dean, a place to do some baking, her favorite mug…
Wait. She couldn’t find her mug.
“Dean, where’d you put my mug?” she called out before he even got to the kitchen
“Stop calling me out before I’m even in the room. It’s creepy,” he said with a chuckle, walking in.
“Can’t help it. I know how you sound walkin’ around in here.”
She turned from the kitchen counter where the coffee was brewing. He watched her for a moment, smile still stuck in place.
“So?” she asked.
He raised a brow. “So…?”
She sighed. “My mug?”
“Oh,” he exclaimed, walking further towards her to open the fridge. “Made soup the other day and didn’t have any clean bowls.”
He pulled out the soup-filled mug, handing it in her direction. She quirked a brow, looking inside of it.
“I ain’t cleaning that out.”
He sighed dramatically, walking towards the sink.
“Guess I’ll do it. Princess can’t handle a few chunks of chicken in her precious mug.”
She smacked his arm lightly, scoffing.
“You’re the one who put chicken in it in the first place. You know that’s my favorite mug.”
He smirked, silently cleaning it out for her. When he was finished he turned, handing it off as he leaned against the counter.
“If my coffee is soup-flavored I’m going to have Cas smite you,” she mumbled, pouring it full.
She filled up another mug she’d pulled down in the meantime, sliding it to Dean.
“And yet, you still get me my coffee,” he said, pressing a kiss to her temple.
She hid a smile, shaking her head as she prepared hers.
“You know you love me,” he sang to her, heading towards the library.
She followed after, not even realizing what she was doing until she was halfway there. It was like they were attached at the hip.
They practically were over the following months, never not wanting to do everything together.
“Come on, Sam,” she whined. “You’re no fun.”
He smirked, attempting to leave the kitchen.
“Not all of us want to get plastered on a Tuesday night.”
“Speak for yourself” Dean said with a sparkle in his eye. He looked at Y/N. “You love getting screwed by me, right? Oh, sorry, with me.”
“Oh, yeah. My favorite activity, actually,” she said back with a smirk.
Sam sighed, rolling his eyes as he stood.
“I think I’m about done listening to you two flirt, anyways.”
“Aww,” she started, leaning closer to where he stood. “You gettin’ jealous, Sammy?”
“I’m getting grossed out,” he laughed. “Goodnight.”
The two at the table said a quick goodnight, turning back to their drinks and their jokes in an instant.
“Maybe we just need to sweat it out,” he jokes, brows dancing suggestively.
She laughed. “In your dreams, Winchester. We’ve gone almost six years without a slip-up, do you really think now’s a good time to break that record?”
He contemplated for a moment, fully believing it was a good time to break it. He couldn’t think of a better time with the exception of five-and-a-half years ago. But, he decided to actually use his brain.
“Guess you’re right.”
She smiled, pretending not to be thinking about the fact that she definitely thought she was all wrong. She really though that he should have known better than anyone that she believed records were made to be broken.
“I’m always right.”
“Now you’re dreaming,” he said with a chuckle, tossing back the rest of his drink.
He poured two shots, sliding one to her.
“Here’s to almost six years— what, like, five years and ten months? Something like that?”
She nodded. “July 7th.”
He stilled a moment, not thinking about the fact that of course she would remember the day they met.
“How many days is that?”
She hummed, playing into his little game as she pulled out her phone. She typed away until she got her answer:
“2119 days if I did the math right.”
“Nineteen or ninety?”
“Nineteen.”
“What do you say we have a special celebration if we get to twenty one ninety, then?”
She snorted. “What do you constitute as special?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” he winked, tossing back his shot.
She mirrored his actions, then quickly typed away again.
“What do you know? 2190 is exactly the six year mark,” she smirked. “Alright. Deal.”
Weeks passed, and life was shockingly normal in that time. Well, normal for their standards, which still included all the things that go bump in the night. After a particularly long hunt, getting back to the bunker was a relief.
All three of them went to their respective rooms to get some rest, but, as had become a pattern, Dean went knocking on Y/N’s door. She opened with a tired smile, inviting him in.
They sat around, talking about whatever topics came to mind, listening to music playing in the background. When conversation fell quiet, an idea struck her like lightening.
“Come on, Dean. A little dancing wouldn’t kill ya,” she said, moving a little to the music.
He laughed, watching her from her bed. She held out her hands, and finally took them after a few seconds. She could be very convincing, he thought.
They jumped around the room in an un-choreographed, ridiculous, messy dance that left both of them giggling and out of breath. Her music wasn’t always his style, but he sure didn’t mind listening to her sing every word with a passion as if she’d written them herself.
“See? You love this,” she exclaimed as the upbeat song faded out.
“Only because you’re making me,” he smiled.
She laughed again, starting to turn when a slow song started going. He didn’t let her get far, however, pulling her back into his chest by the hand. He played it off all nonchalant at first, ignoring the smile on her face as a bit he always liked to play anytime he started being affectionate in an unconventional way.
“Really?” she asked.
She reached up, fingertips brushing against his jaw so that he’d look at her again. He smiled softly when she did, just watching her for a few seconds.
“You wanted to dance. We’re dancing,” he said, swaying along to the melody.
“Such a gentleman.”
He smirked, not letting up in the dance. She gave in, resting her head against his shoulder as the music played. He closed his eyes, resting his cheek against her and letting the smell of her perfume lull him in the dance more than the song could. Her gentle humming put a smile on his face that he was grateful she couldn’t see: he was certain he’d look like a lovesick puppy.
As the song faded out, she finally pulled away enough to see him again, both of them still moving as another faded in. She looked at him with a glimmer in her eyes. He took in a slow breath, watching her face for a few moments, their movements slowing. He wanted to kiss her more than anything. So, he took an action:
“I’m gonna grab a drink.”
He untethered himself from her, quickly making an exit to leave her alone and deeply confused.
She sat in the library a few days later, reading a book she found on werewolf mating habits.
“What do ya got, there?” Sam asked, walking into the room.
She glanced up, a brow raised. “You don’t want to know, trust me.”
Sam snorted. “Alright.”
“You need something?”
She closed the book, setting it down on the table.
“Yeah. Do you want to hang out? I just hooked up a new TV in my room.”
“Sure,” she shrugged. “When?”
“I’m making popcorn right now.”
She laughed, agreeing as she got up. She got comfortable in his room, back against the headboard of his bed. He walked in a minute later, handing over the bowl of popcorn as he settled in.
“Is Dean coming?” she asked.
“No. He went out for the night.”
“Ah,” she said softly after a beat.
Sam straightened up, looking at her.
“He didn’t invite you?”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
“He always does. Why not now?”
She sighed, settling into the cushions, still looking ahead.
“I think I freaked him out. We were in my room the other night, and I asked him to dance with me. He did, but then… I don’t know,” she shrugged. “After a couple songs he left fast and he’s definitely been pulling away from me since then.”
“Hey,” he called, grabbing her attention. “Anyone who doesn’t appreciate you isn’t worth your time. You know that, right?”
“Thanks, Sammy,” she smiled, looking down again. “I just keep getting in my own head.”
“When aren’t you?” he joked.
“You jerk,” she said, tossing a piece of popcorn at him. “I’m trying to be, like, open right now.”
“I know,” he drawled, leaning his head against hers.
She brushed a few pieces of his hair off her forehead.
“Maybe I just need to go out and have some fun myself,” she said after a moment.
He perked up.
“Dude, yeah!”
He stood abruptly, holding out his hands for her. She took them, standing slowly, and looking around the room for some stray confidence so that she wouldn’t back out.
“Tell you what,” Sam started, giving her the hope she wanted, “You go get ready, and we’ll head out together. I’ll be your wingman.”
She smiled. “That sounds great. I immediately wasn’t sure about heading off by myself.”
“I could tell,” he laughed.
She got ready in record time, putting on her favorite dress for good measure. They left the bunker, hitting a nearby bar that didn’t have an impala parked anywhere close.
“They’re just… giving me nothing,” she said with a sigh, slumping in the seat next to Sam at the bar.
“What do you mean? That last guy looked really into it.”
“He was. He was also into talking about his ex-girlfriend within the first few minutes of conversation,” she snorted. “I think I’m asking too much. I should just find someone and make out with ‘em.”
“You sure about that?”
She looked at Sam again, a smile breaking out.
“No. But if we do another shot, I might be.”
He sighed, obliging her only because he knew she’d do it without him anyways. They threw back the shots, and he wished her luck as she went off in search of someone who wanted nothing but a good time.
Well, kind of a good time. She wasn’t sure she really wanted to take some dude home.
She went onto the dance-floor, deciding she’d let someone come to her rather than prowling for herself, and got her wish pretty fast. A moderately attractive man caught her hand as she swayed around by herself, asking for a dance. She plastered on a smile as she agreed, letting him take the lead.
“What’s your name?” he asked over the music.
“Do you really want to know?” she teased.
He smirked. “Guess it’s more fun not to know, huh?”
She smiled again, pulling him down to her lips as they moved to the music. She closed her eyes, appreciating the ease at which she got what she wanted. The only problem is that she couldn’t help imagining it was Dean instead of Unnamed Bar-Goer.
Regardless, she justified that they were merely using each other, so who cares if she let her mind run a little wild?
She only backed away when he started getting a little handsy for her tastes. She thanked him for his time, walking away and back to Sam. He raised his brows when she came back.
“Hey, looks like you got it,” he said, watching her sit. “Also looks like you aren’t too happy.”
“Still giving me absolutely nothing,” she said with a sigh. “Not a damn thing.”
He chuckled. “Maybe this plan didn’t work out so well.”
“Still got to drink with my favorite giant,” she noted with a wink and nudge.
“Ha ha. Real flattering, thanks.”
He rolled his eyes, but let himself smirk when she wasn’t paying much attention. They sat talking at the bar for another hour or so before Sam decided to call it a night. She linked an arm around Sam’s as they walked out of the bar, definitely a little more drunk than she intended to get.
Dean walked into the bunker, spirits effectively dampened. His attempt to get his mind off of his I-almost-kissed-her moment didn’t work in the slightest, and now he was in a sour mood as a result.
His mood only worsened when he saw Sam and Y/N stumbling into the kitchen, the latter a drunken mess in an outfit he liked a little too much. He watched as Sam helped her into the room, practically propping her up against the counter.
“What the hell?” Dean asked as his brother got a glass from the cupboard.
“What?” Sam defended, filling up the cup with water.
“For one, why is she laughing at herself against the kitchen counter?”
Sam rolled his eyes. “We went out.”
He walked over to Y/N, handing her the glass. She sipped at the water, then set it down just as quickly.
“Done,” she cheered.”
“No, you’re not,” Sam said, picking up the water and giving it right back to her. “Come on, you’re going to be hungover tomorrow.”
She refused the drink, kicking off her shoes. Then, she turned to level her gaze at Dean as he sipped on a beer.
“And where did you go run off to?”
He raised his brows. “Does it matter?”
“Yeah,” she stated with finality.
“Out.”
“Get lucky?” she asked, more bitterness in her tone than she meant to let out.
“No.”
She rolled her eyes, then glanced at Sam again.
“Wanna go hang out and read? I found a book about how werewolves get it on,” she said, giggling as she ended the sentence.
“What?”
Dean spoke up again. “Since when do you go out and get drunk without a reason?”
She snapped back to him. “Since I was celebrating me. I’m done chasing after guys who don’t want— What was it, Sam? Like if they don’t appreciate me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean asked back, setting down his drink.
“Sammy, I wanna talk to Dean by myself,” she managed to say, hardly looking at him.
“I don’t know—”
“Sam,” she cut him off, watching him.
He put his hands up in defense, walking out of the room. She watched until he left, then looked at Dean again. He glanced sideways at her as she swayed slightly while she stood.
“You know, those six years are coming up real soon, De,” she said, staring from across the counter.
“Are they?” he asked, wondering where this was going.
“Mhm. One more week I think,” she hiccuped. “Sorry.”
He furrowed his brow. “You’re drunk.”
“I tried kissing someone today,” she said, words tumbling out fast like she couldn’t control them. “I hated it.”
He paused, unsure why she was saying this. His heart hurt more than he thought it would, hearing her admit that.
“Why?” was all he could manage.
“Why’d you go out without me?” she countered. “You never go out without me, not since we met.”
He sighed, eyes closing as he braced himself against the counter. He heard her as she got closer, eventually leaning her head against his arm.
“I’m glad you didn’t go home with anyone today.”
He swallowed, unable to look at her. “Yeah. I— I was gonna try, to be honest, but…”
“I’m gonna throw up,” she said, suddenly moving to the sink.
He followed after swiftly, helping her as best as he could. He pulled her hair back gently as she emptied her stomach into the kitchen sink.
“You’re okay, sweetheart,” he said softly, rubbing her back with the hand that wasn’t holding her hair. “Get it all out.”
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, sniffling.
“I’ve seen you worse,” he said with a smirk. “That upset about what I said?”
If she had been a touch more sober, she might have realized he was joking. Unfortunately, she took it completely literally.
“I didn’t mean to. I just thought about you and some—”
“Whoa, whoa. Hold on, I wasn’t—” he paused as she stood again, running the sink to clear it out. He turned it off again, impatient. “What are you talking about?”
“What?”
He watched her as she straightened herself out, pulling down the skirt of the dress she was in where it had ridden up.
“You threw up over me mentioning—”
“Dean.”
“Why?”
She sighed, leaning down to rest her head on the counter.
“I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“You kissed someone. I didn’t even get that far.”
“Why do you care?” she asked, standing again, and nearly falling over.
He caught her gently, but kept his hard tone as he responded to her.
“Why do you?”
“Because I just do, Dean.”
“You’re so freaking stubborn,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes with one hand.
“You’re one to talk. This is all your fault anyways.”
“Excuse me?” he asked, annoyance in his voice.
“It’s your fault,” she said, punctuating the phrase with a slap to his chest.
“Yeah? And how’s that?”
“You should’ve just kissed me instead of chickening out and running away like a little boy.”
He was stunned into silence, his anger dissipating and then quickly returning.
“If you hadn’t made me dance with you, I wouldn’t have been all in your face in the first place,” he shot back.
“You’re such a dick,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Six years of not chasing anyone but you, and for what? You’re acting like a bitch.”
“Well, jokes on you, sweetheart,” he exclaimed, opening up his arms. “Hasn’t even been six years.”
“Great! Let’s hope we never get there, then!”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“I’m not the one who ran off to get a hookup because I couldn’t handle my feelings.”
He scoffed. “Yeah, you just ran off to make out with someone because you couldn’t handle your feelings.”
“Why do you feel the need to make everything so difficult?”
“Because you’re the most difficult person I’ve ever met,” he said, voice raising to an octave you didn’t often hear. “How else am I supposed to deal with you?”
She groaned in frustration, pushing past him to leave. She stalked out of the kitchen, only making it so far as the hallway before she was getting pulled back.
“Stop it, Dean,” she all but yelled.
He rolled his eyes, pulling her closer and leaning down to kiss her. One hand found her face, a surprisingly gentle touch in comparison to how intense the kiss was. She felt like she couldn’t catch her breath, a smile on her face as he finally gave in. He pulled back a moment later, though not without an internal struggle.
“The douchebag at the bar kiss you like that?” he mumbled against her lips.
“Not exactly,” she sighed. “What took you so long?”
“You weren’t making moves either, loser,” he said with a laugh.
“You didn’t exactly make yourself out to be available, De.”
“And you did? You literally told me I wouldn’t get you in my wildest dreams a few weeks ago.”
She paused, a smile spreading to her face.
“Touché.”
“How about now?”
She quirked a brow. “You propositioning me, Winchester?”
“If I was, what would you say to that?”
“I’d say that I think there must be some technical malfunctions in the universe for me to get that lucky.”
He smirked, slowly backing her until she was pressed against the wall.
“Early celebration?”
“Only if we still celebrate when we hit twenty one ninety,” she said with a smile. “Gotta safeguard, here. Easier for me to make sure this doesn’t become a one-time thing.”
“You think I’d be able to stop after one time? It’s you,” he said, moving in closer. Her arms wound around his neck. “I’ve been holding out for six years.”
“Not quite.”
“Mm. Close enough.”
He leaned in to kiss her again, this time slow and soft. She kissed back, glad to finally know what his lips felt like against hers. He let his hands wander, holding to her hips and sliding down further.
“You look real pretty in this dress,” he mumbled between kisses.
“Was hoping you’d see it and like it,” she smiled, nipping at his lip. “Just don’t rip it if you decide to take it off me.”
He smiled against her as he leaned back in. He kissed her, deepening it immediately as one hand dragged down her leg. He slotted his own thigh between her legs, adding a little friction that had her gasping into his mouth. He started hiking up the skirt of the dress further. Slowly, purposely teasing her with it. Teasing himself just as much.
Then, heavy footsteps started coming down the hall. They separated quickly and ducked inside the kitchen, hoping Sam would walk past. Unfortunately, they were wrong.
Dean stood behind Y/N quickly, concealing a problem he didn’t exactly have time to fix.
“Hey,” Sam said softly, seemingly not noticing a thing. “I didn’t hear yelling coming down and needed a drink. You two all good?”
She nodded. “Great.”
“Awesome,” Dean said at the same time.
Sam nodded, giving a tight smile as he walked past.
“We were actually about to head to bed, so…” she said, looking at him as he stood at the fridge.
“Okay,” he nodded, nonchalant. “Night.”
“Night.”
Dean waved a quick goodbye, following after her quickly. They broke into his room, giggling like a couple of drunk toddlers.
“He didn’t hear yelling,” Dean said, closing in on her once the door was shut.
She reached for his belt, quickly undoing it as they got closer to the bed.
“He didn’t.”
He grabbed her by the waist, tossing her down on the mattress, slowly climbing on top of her.
“Wanna test and see if the walls in here are just as soundproof?”
She looked up at him as he finally tugged her dress up around her hips.
“I love a good experiment.”
She laid back in the early morning hours, not even bringing herself to be annoyed that she was being suffocated by a large man on top of her. Mostly because if Dean killed her that way, it certainly would suck, but what a way to go.
She sighed, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead as he rested against her chest. She ran her fingers through his hair until he eventually woke up with the sweetest sleepy smile point at her.
“Hey,” he said, adjusting himself to see her better.
“Hey,” she greeted, accepting a soft kiss. “I think we should’ve done that forever ago.”
“I don’t know. Might be like a wine situation. We let it sit so long that it got even better by the time we actually got some.”
“Very poetic.”
He smiled, a hand coming to rest on her side as he kissed her again. It was slow and lazy and altogether too sweet. She was almost embarrassed that she had to be there to witness how mushy that moment was, if not for the fact that she was on the receiving end of the mush. She pulled away from him first, leaving him to whine.
“You’re so dramatic,” she said in a whisper. “Whining?”
“You were doing plenty of that last night,” he smirked.
“Okay,” she rolled her eyes playfully. “Why don’t we get some breakfast. I’m starving.”
His hand started moving downward, inching up the shirt of his that she was wearing.
“I could eat.”
“Dean,” she warned.
He started scooting down the mattress slowly, not giving up.
“Come on. Kitchen.”
“Ooh, kinky.”
“Cut it out,” she laughed. “Kitchen for actual breakfast. I don’t waste time when it comes to breakfast.”
They made it to the kitchen for that breakfast successfully! Twenty minutes later, anyway.
“Hey,” Sam greeted, not looking up.
“Morning, Sammy,” Dean said, going straight towards the cabinets for cereal.
She realized suddenly that there may have been something she forgot in his room.
“Is that Dean’s shirt?” Sam asked.
She looked down, realizing that it was clothes she had forgotten. Sam paused, raising a hand.
“On second thought, I don’t want to know. Glad to know you’re at least not fighting. Just— Maybe some pants next time.”
She laughed, following Dean to the table as he set down two bowls of cereal. They all sat eating in a comfortable silence. Then a slightly less comfortable silence as Dean grabbed her thigh halfway through breakfast. Sam quickly excused himself after that, a knowing smile on his face as he left.
“So… We’re in the kitchen,” Dean said, leaning towards her. “I don’t think Sammy’s comin’ back anytime soon.”
After definitely not doing anything weird in the kitchen and then totally not feeling bad and scrubbing down the entire room for the day, things fell into a new rhythm. It was comfortable and surprisingly less of an adjustment than they were expecting. All of those years of relentless flirting must’ve made for an easy transition.
Dean cleared his throat a few days later, grabbing her attention as she lounged in the room he’d set aside for TV-watching (with the fun new addition of a couch).
“Yeah?” she asked, looking away from the screen to see him.
“Guess what?”
“Hm?”
“2190 days.”
She smiled. “Yeah? Is that today?”
He hummed, giving a nod.
“What were those special plans of yours?”
He raised a brow. “You really wanna know?”
She merely nodded. He paused the show they were watching.
“I, uh— I was gonna tell you how I felt if I didn’t chicken out.”
“You’re kidding,” she replied after a beat.
“I’m not,” he said with a chuckle.
“Man. Almost twenty two hundred days of a blackout before we finally lit it up, huh?”
He laughed. “That’s one way of putting it.”
She paused, turning to put her feet in his lap. He immediately, started rubbing her leg, enjoying the uninhibited ability to touch her.
“Wanna know something funny?”
He raised a brow in question.
“Years ago someone told me they knew we’d end up together.”
“Who? Bobby?”
She shook her head. “Garth.”
He rolled his eyes as she laughed, poking him in the arm a moment later.
“Got to give it to him, he’s always been perceptive,” she noted.
“Guess so,” he nodded, reluctant to admit it. “Freakin’ Garth.”
She watched him a moment, then retracted her legs. He looked at her, almost hurt with those big puppy-dog eyes.
“Oh, poor baby,” she cooed. “Don’t worry, I’m comin’ closer.”
She crawled over to him, settling in his lap. He ran his hands up her legs, a small smile returning to his lips.
“I can think of a few other ways we can celebrate today, you know?”
“Yeah?” he asked, leaning into the cushions.
“Five words: apple pie in the freezer.”
“Oh, baby, you know how to talk dirty to me,” he groaned, pulling her down for a kiss in a fit of laughter.
FULL MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE
—————
dean winchester taglist:
@deanwithscissors @hyunjaebaby
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Note
Ok so, ever since I’ve discovered your blog I’m addicted, how you manage to make me love Eddie even more than I already did is beyond le but somehow you did it! I just noticed that your requests were open and was wondering if you could write Eddie with fem reader who’s like, hyper affectionate; she just need to have some sort of physical contact with him even if it it’s just touching his arm or something else. And when she wants affection but is worried to be annoying by asking she does a simply thing where she rest her head against his back or arm?
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!reader
A/N: Hello friend! Thank you so so much for this request! I’m so sorry that it took so long, my mental health hasn’t been great so writing has been hard for me on top of how busy life has been. But this request hit SO close to home as I am constantly looking for affection from my loved ones and I’m just hyper affection in general, I love writing this. I really hope you like it!
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You had always been considered “touchy”, you always wanted to be touching the people you love. Person, to be more accurate, as currently the only person you really cared about touching was your boyfriend Eddie Munson. You were always trying to hold his hand or arm, hug him, kiss him, really any sort of affection you could get from him.
Currently you were in his bed with him, both of you reading different magazines as a mixtape he made for you played softly on the stereo. You were itching to touch him, feeling exceptionally touch starved today. But you were trying to hold back, worried that you were annoying him with your constant need for affection.
You had been with each other all day, practically attached to Eddie’s hip as you went about your day. You held his hand when you would walk anywhere, wrap yourself up in his arms when you would sit next to each other, lean up for kisses whenever you could. You were like his little shadow, following him in hopes that you’d get to touch him again.
Eddie had never, ever, made you feel like your affection was unwanted or annoying, yet your insecurities made you second guess that he liked it. Your mind would sometimes scold you for how needy you felt, telling you things like: “He just hugged you, don’t annoy him by asking again!” “He’s been holding your hand all day, give him some space!” And now, as you stared at the magazine in front of you, itching to be held by your boyfriend, it was telling you to leave him alone.
“You okay baby?” Eddie's voice rang out, breaking you from your thoughts.
“What? Oh, yeah, I’m okay. Why do you ask Eds?” You said quickly, whipping your head to the side to look at him. Soft eyes full of adoration found yours and you tried not to melt.
“You haven’t turned the page in like fifteen minutes. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” He asked with a gentle smile. His hand came up to cup your cheek lightly, thumb caressing the apple of your cheek soothingly.
“I just got distracted, don’t worry about me Eds.” You said with a smile of your own, not wanting to bother him.
“If you're sure, baby.” He smiled before pecking your lips quickly and going back to his magazine.
You smiled from the small dose of affection he gave you, relieved that he initiated it with you. But you wanted more, you wanted to be in his arms snuggled into his chest, your favorite place to be. You loved hearing his heartbeat as it thumped against your ear, you loved the way his scent clung to you after and how you could smell him on your clothes for days, you loved hearing the low rumble in his chest when he would hum or talk to you. You just loved being close to him.
You sighed quietly as to not alarm him, giving into your desires. You looked over to him as he read and leaned your head against his arm. A silent plea Eddie knew to mean that you wanted his attention and affection.
You heard him chuckle as you screwed up your eyes, “There she is. My baby want some lovin’?” He cooed as he put the magazine on his side table and pulled you into his arms, resting you against his chest gently. You heard him chuckle again as you nodded your head against him with a little excited “mhmm!”, happy to be in his arms finally. “I’ll always have lovin’ to give to you sweetheart.” He laughed as you seemed to almost burrow into him further.
He grabbed your leg and pulled it over to the other side of his body so you were effectively straddling him as you cuddled into his chest. “There you go, I want you as close as possible sweet thing. We can stay like this all night if you want, okay?” He asked, rubbing up and down your back as he placed soft kisses into your hair.
“Thank you baby.” You mumbled against his shirt. “I love you so much Eddie.”
“Oh I love you too sweetness. So fuckin much.” He said, you could hear the smile pulling at his lips as he spoke. You let out a dreamy sigh as he started to hum along to the song that was playing as he continued to rub your back, he was just as ecstatic to have you in his arms as you were to be there.
Taglist: @srapalestina @yvonneeeee @cityofidek @anaisweird @mrslovesmayahawke @harrys-tittie @becca-alexa @catacina
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snixkers · 1 month
Text
3 Words, 8 Letters
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Pairing: Emily Prentiss × GN!Reader
Angst
For: Anonymous Request
Content Warning: Mentions of canon violence, reader was pushed off a building, hospital room/machines, discussions of death
Summary: After a near death experience, you realize there's something you have to say to your girlfriend.
Author's Note: This is so cute! (As always, a sucker for Emily)
Feedback is always welcome!
Requests are OPEN
You woke up to the sound of machinery beeping in your ear. When you finally got around to opening your eyes, you realized it was coming from the heart rate monitor beside you.
The steady lines were promising, but the sight of your girlfriend on the verge of tears beside you wasn’t. She quickly wiped her eyes, trying to collect herself for you.
Emily leaned over the railing, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
“How are you feeling?”
You smiled weakly in response, trying to reach out to reassure her but only now realizing that your arm was bound in a cast.
“Great. As good as you can when you get pushed out a window.”
Her composure faltered at that, all the worry and panic coming back to haunt her.
“I didn’t think you’d make it.”
You shook your head gingerly, the concussion making each movement impossible.
“You finally asked me out, and you think I’m just going to die?”
She laughed humorlessly, and the sight brought tears to your own eyes. You raised your good arm, reaching for her hand.
“Emily, I need to tell you something.”
She frowned, bringing your hand back to where it was resting before.
“Save your strength, okay?”
You just shook your head again, even as lightning bolts of pain shot through your head.
“I love you.”
Emily just stared for a few minutes, her mouth gaping slightly as she tried to formulate a response, but you weren’t done.
“I’ve loved you for a really long time, but I didn’t know how to say it. And when you asked me out, I didn’t want to come on too strong."
She tried to reply, but you needed to finish, and somehow show her how you felt.
"But when that unsub pushed me, my first thought was that you would never know how much I love you. And I don’t want to die with any regrets.”
Someone sniffled, and it took you a second to realize that those were your own tears. Her eyes welled up to match yours as a silence fell over the room.
Your gut dropped as you realized maybe it was too much, she might not feel the same, you possibly just screwed up your entire relationship in less than a min-
“I love you too.”
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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 29 days
Text
Face Your Fears
Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader
Requested by Anonymous
Synopsis: You get into a fight with your brothers, but your recklessness that follows creates problems for everyone.
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“You were hunting before you were my age! I don’t get why—“
“It doesn’t matter if you get it or not! I said no!”
Sam rushed to the library when he heard his siblings’ voices raised in argument.
“What’s going on in here?” He asked, trying to keep a calm and neutral tone.
“She—“ Dean started, but you cut him off.
“Dean is being completely unfair!”
“Ok, ok, calm down,” Sam sighed.
“Calm down?! You two are off all the time, actually helping people, putting your lives on the line, and I’m—“
“Exactly! You don’t need to be putting yourself in danger like that!” Dean interrupted.
“It’s what you do! And I sit here and read books!”
“Don’t downplay what you do,” Sam said. “We need you here.”
“But I could do so much more out there with you!” You argued. “I’ve been training, I know I can help!”
“Yeah, or you’d screw it up and get killed, and I don’t need your blood on my hands!” Dean exploded.
The silence that followed was deafening.
“Dean—“ Sam tried to speak up, but you interrupted him.
“So that’s it, really? You think I’m some kind of screw up?” You scoffed, and continued before Dean could speak. “It’s not like you’re perfect! You’ve screwed up the world before, and no one’s stopped you from going out to screw it up again!”
“Y/N—“ again Sam’s attempt to calm the situation was met with resistance.
“Well fine then, if I’m too much of a screw up for you, then I’ll get out of your way!” You shoved past your brothers and beelined for your room, slamming the door behind you.
Your brothers didn’t try to go after you. They were probably angry. You knew you went too far with what you said to Dean, but he called you a screw up; were you just supposed to take that and not say anything back?
It didn’t matter either way. You didn’t want them to try to talk to you, because you had something to do.
You had a hunt to go on.
You’d been researching one before you went to ask Dean about joining the next one; since he’d said no, you would take this one whether he liked it or not. And you were going alone.
It wasn’t hard to sneak out—back when you lived in motels, it would have been almost impossible to leave without one of your brothers waking up, but with the bunker it was easy.
You didn’t take the Impala—that would be too far, even for this rebellious streak. Instead, you took a cab to the next town over; you had struck gold, finding a hunt so close. It was pretty simple, too; three victims with hearts ripped out, definitely a werewolf. You had more silver bullets than you’d need packed up with a couple of guns in a duffel at your feet.
Dean was wrong about you, you could do this. After all, how hard could one little werewolf be?
Dean was right, and you were suffering the consequences of being wrong.
You struggled to pull your phone from your pocket, your fingers fumbling as your phone slipped around in your blood-soaked hands. Your breathing was labored, and every breath brought stabs of pain to your slashed-up abdomen.
You hadn’t noticed the signs of the second werewolf, so determined were you on taking the first one down. You hadn’t even seen him until he’d been right on you, ripping into your stomach. You’d had your gun in your hand, and by some miracle you’d managed to fire off a round into the werewolf on top of you, but not before he’d injured you pretty bad.
You finally got the phone in your hand, and you didn’t hesitate to press Dean’s number. You held the phone just slightly away from your face, wary of irritation the cuts on your cheek.
The phone barely had time to ring before Dean’s voice flooded your senses.
“Where are you?” His voice came out in a growl.
“D-De…” you hadn’t realized you were crying until you had to push your voice out past your tears.
“Sweetheart?” Dean’s anger was gone in a second when he heard your pained voice. “What’s going on?”
“I’m-I’m sorry, De,” you sobbed. “You were right, I’m-I’m sorry.”
“Shh shh, hey,” Dean soothed. “It’s alright sweetheart, I forgive you. Just tell me where you are and I’ll come get you.”
“I-I turned on my phone’s location,” you said. “Ple-please hurry. It hurts…”
Dean tried to ask you more, but a bang from somewhere nearby had you flinching, and the phone slipped out of your soaked hands and shattered on the concrete floor. You realized it was only your own gun, slipping off the table you’d laid it on. But it was too late; your phone was broken, and you had no way to call Dean back.
You could only hope that the tracker would still work.
Dean broke both the law and probably some speed records getting to your location. Sam was in the passenger seat, a first aid kit in his lap as he held on for dear life.
“I should’ve known she’d do something stupid,” Dean grunted.
“Dean, you couldn’t have known,” Sam reasoned. “And blaming yourself isn’t going to help her.”
Dean didn’t speak, and the rest of the ride was tensely silent.
“Here,” Sam said as navigator. “Turn left here, and she should be close by.”
Dean swerved the Impala to the left and screeched to a halt in an empty parking lot near a warehouse. Sam was right at his heels as he burst into the warehouse.
“De?” Your pained voice echoed throughout the building, so that it took Dean a moment to find you. When he did, he swore his heart skipped three beats. You were sitting in a pool of your own blood, propped up against the wall. Dean rushed to you, kneeling next to you and almost slipping in your blood.
“Hey, hey,” his voice was a mixture of soothing and panic as he brushed your blood-stained hair away from your face. “Alright sweetheart, tell Doctor Dean where it hurts.”
It was a pathetic joke, but you laughed anyway; Dean’s jokes always made you laugh.
But your laugh sent you to a fit of coughing. Dean winced as he examined the long gashes on your stomach.
“Ok, you’re ok,” Dean leaned back in relief when he saw that it wasn’t too deep; you’d be ok. “But I’m gonna have to carry you to the car, ok? Brace yourself.”
You gritted your teeth and clenched your fists, but you still couldn’t hold back the cry of pain when Dean lifted you into his arms.
“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Dean cringed. “I’m sorry. You’re gonna be ok.”
Dean laid you on your back in the backseat of the Impala, before taking the first aid kit from Sam and retrieving a needle and thread.
“Can’t we just bandage it up?” You whimpered, already squirming away from the needle. Dean’s finger froze for a second before he shook his head, his features softening. Both brothers were very aware of your fear of needles, but sometimes it couldn’t be helped.
“Sorry sweetheart, it’s gotta be stitched. Just close your eyes, it’ll feel worse if you watch.”
You closed your eyes, trusting your brother completely. However, before he could make the first stitch, your eyes popped open and you grabbed into his wrist.
“Wait,” you said. “I-I…I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
“Hey,” Dean sighed. “I’m sorry too. I said some things that…that I didn’t mean. You aren’t a screw up, ok?”
“What do you call this?” You gestured to your own banged up body.
“Inexperience,” Dean answered. “And you never should’ve been out here alone. Going solo on your first hunt is never a good idea.”
“I’m sorry about that, too,” you mumbled.
“It’s ok, kiddo. Maybe later we…we can talk about you tagging along on one of our hunts.”
“Really?” You grinned.
“Later,” Dean said sternly. “After you’re all better. Now let me get to this.”
As Dean lifted the needle, you closed your eyes again. You felt Sam’s large hand grab onto yours, and you squeezed his hand gratefully, holding on as Dean started to stitch you up.
“I didn’t really think you would screw up the hunts,” Dean said as he worked. “I just…I don’t want you out there. It’s dangerous, and I…I’m scared something will happen to you. But I guess I can’t keep you from it if it’s what you really want.”
“It is,” you said. “I want to do what you guys do. I want to help people, and I wanna be with you guys.”
“Ok then,” Dean said, tying off the stitches and patting your side to let you know he was done. You opened your eyes, and he smiled at you.
“I guess I’ll just have to face my fears.”
Taglist:
@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl
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velvetlilacsdaisies · 3 months
Text
Stay Still | B. Durran |
Bodhi Durran x fwb!fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.8k
Warnings: NSFW, SMUT, MDNI, swearing, p in v, (unprotected sex pls pls be safe), cockwarming, not proofread well, switch!Bodhi, possessive!Bodhi, bratty!reader, poorly written smut, smut with little plot
A/n: hehhe this came out of my ass idk what got into me during my reading bonanza last night 🤭. I just felt truly inspired to try to write a full smut. This is my first official smut I’ve wrote so I would love feedback to improve on it if you have it, but I hope you find this as fun as I did!!
You sighed boredly laying on Bodhi’s bed, stomach pressed against the plush mattress, idly looking over a book about runes you tried to occupy your thoughts with. It had been thirty minutes since you arrived at the Section Leader’s door looking for some company in nothing but your black dressing robe and matching tiny nightgown underneath. Anticipating when he opened his door, he’d haughtily pull you into his quarters and ravish you like a man starved…but no. He merely gave you a once over before letting you in, and sat back at his desk doing his research on wards for Xaden.
You wanted to help as much as he did with resurrecting the wardstones for your friends, but now it had impeded on yours and his arrangement. It’s been two weeks since you last found yourself in the embrace of the man you craved, and you were desperate for the attention you lacked. It had become an unspoken routine you two had secretly engaged in since after Threshing last year. Only using each other other than for just distractions from the trials of surviving the Rider’s Quadrant at night, while during the day you were just squad mates.
You could feel another wave of heat go through your core at the thought of the secret that the two of you shared. You had been fighting the wanton desire since the last time you had found each other. Not that you weren’t satisfied by Bodhi, but you never stopped wanting him it had become glaringly obvious for you. You had even resorted to giving into flirty banter with Ridoc in front of him to get the Flame Section Leader’s acknowledgment, left with not even a sarcastic remark or scolding look on his part. Since Violet returned from Samara, there was a dire urgency to find answers on the wardstone.
But today was exemplarily tougher to push that ache down. After a rather intensive Flame Section sparring session after classes, you had been forced to watch Bodhi spar without drooling. His shirt discarded halfway through the session when he was challenged by Sawyer, the sweat glistening off his chiseled muscles. As if he knew the effect he had on you. The relic that swirled over his bulky biceps and veiny forearms and his dragon relic that loitered on the back of his left sharp shoulder blade down to the side of his refined torso. You had to take an extra cold shower once all the girls left the locker room to calm the burning desire that consumed you which proved to be no help.
You got off the bed, and made your way to him feeling impatient as your core throbbed once more. His back was towards you, displaying his relics that you admired and worshiped in the solace of the night. Your arms wrapping around his chest from behind, your nails lightly scratching his broad bare chest.
“Boh,” you whined, nipping at his earlobe. “Are you done yet?” You asked, a simper to your tone. The arousal in between your legs getting too heavy to bare, and clenching your thighs was no longer an option to fight the want for him. You wanted him now. No—you needed him, and you weren’t going to deprive yourself another minute.
“I don’t have much longer until I finish this section.” He murmured. He screwed his eyes shut trying to focus on the text in front of him, tilting his neck out of instinct to the side letting your lips press needy kisses down to his shoulder.
He had known when he saw you at your door in your skimpiest night clothes what you wanted. Finally making a move in the unintentional stalemate between the both of you. It didn’t fall on to blind eyes the way you went out of your way to be bratty throughout the last two weeks, attempting to get a rise out of him. It almost worked, but never being a jealous man, and clever enough to see right through you. The flirty comments to Ridoc, the way he could feel your alluring eyes burn holes into him during any time he was in the vicinity of you. He almost felt guilty leaving you hanging and to resort to blatant facades of making him jealous, a silent plea to just take you already.
He wanted to do nothing, but to fuck you and remind you who you belonged to.
You looked enticing, and every primal thought that flooded his mind he pushed down to the back of his mind when you appeared in front of his door. The churam he smoked an hour ago doing nothing to stop his chest from hammering, and the blood rushing to his manhood, twitching, at the sight of you. He had to use every ounce of his self discipline to keep his composure in check, letting you in without pouncing, devouring you like he wanted. Xaden would arrive back in Basgiath tomorrow expecting intel, and he hadn’t gotten very far in his research besides dead ends.
Your name got stuck in his throat barely sputtering it out as you sucked on the spot that you knew drove him wild, the conjunction of his neck and shoulder.
You weren’t exclusive with Bodhi, but you had learned everything about him that made him tick. From the littlest things like how his eyes lingered when your flight jacket was slightly undone bearing the slightest bit of cleavage in the low cut tank top you wore underneath—to what made him absolutely feral—the feeling of your lips with your teeth marking his sweet spot that would be barely concealed by the collar of his tight black training shirt the next day. Noting how he would wear the mark proudly like the patches on his jacket. Having a boyish grin when a squad mate would bring it up playing coy. No one knew they were left by you.
“I’ll help you after…” you purred, your hands traveling down his torso to the waistband of his night pants. Fingers nimbly tracing the barely grown out hair that led underneath the cotton. “I’ve been waiting weeks for you.” You pouted before peppering more kisses on his cheeks, feeling satisfied at the sharp intake of air he took at the movement.
You would get your way, there would be no other outcome of you showing up at his door tonight than to be ruined by Bodhi Durran.
“I’m expected to have something to report on tomorrow.” He protested weakly, savoring your mouth against jaw, but still keeping his eyes on the parchment.
His dissolve was close to crumbling, feeling the cold fingertips slip underneath his waistband. All he wanted to do was bend you over his desk, imagining your cheek pressed to the ancient texts laid out on the wooden surface as he railed into you from behind. His cock hardened more at the idea of him inside you.
“Xaden won’t-” you were cut off by the scrape of the wooden chair against the stone floor making you stumble backwards slightly. Bodhi abruptly slid his bottoms down, revealing half hardened manhood, sitting back down in the chair.
“C’mere,” he growled. His tone had a dangerous lilt to it, only making the wetness that had pooled in your panties grow more. His usual warm brown eyes blown out filled with something more than lust.
Your throat ran dry, obeying as you stepped in between his legs. He leaned his forehead against your stomach, inhaling steady breaths as if he could smell your arousal. His rough hands gripping your bare outer thighs before slipping under your nightgown, roughly kneading the soft flesh of your ass. Then he hooked his fingers around the fabric of your undergarments dragging them down your legs.
“You want me to fuck you, but have another man’s name leave your lips?” He gritted out through his, barely speaking above a whisper.
Bodhi knew he was overreacting, but when his cousin’s name came out of your mouth, his primal instincts came bubbling to the surface. A feral fire fueling him, no longer to be tamed. How dare you bring up Xaden, when you came here solely looking for relief from him after acting the way you’ve been.
You were taken aback by the words, leaving you stammering. “I-I’m sorry, Boh..”
This was a new side to him, you’ve never seen before. A nervous pang made your heart skip a beat, though excited at the aggressiveness in his actions.
“You think I haven’t noticed what you’ve been doing the last two weeks?” He cupped the back of one of your thighs, bringing a leg over his. “Think you were being sly?” He questioned.
You shook your head furiously, forgetting how to speak momentarily.
He pinched the inside of your thigh, only adding to the fire that blazed in your core, a soft gasp leaving your slacked jaw. “Use your words, babygirl.”
“N-no,” the words airily released from your throat, a pink tint to your cheeks.
He smirked, a dry laugh escaping him. “That's what I thought.” He dragged your other leg over his so you were now straddling him, knees perched on the extra wide seat. “Since you want to be a brat, you can sit on my cock until I’m done here.” He held his member with one hand, pumping slowly. “You got it?”
You gulped, watching how it twitched ever slightly, and his shoulders relaxed as he held himself. Nodding eagerly, biting your lip, still looking between the both of you awaiting for him to be inside you.
His free hand wrapped around your hair, pulling it, forcing you to look in his eyes. “What did I say about your words?” He growled. A soft moan left your lips at the gesture. His darkened brown eyes wavered in hunger and pride at the reaction.
“Y-yes, please…” you begged, feeling him rub the tip against your slick folds.
“Good girl, so wet for me,” he groaned.
He slowly inserted himself at your entrance, his hand finding your hip to help lower yourself on to him until he bottomed out inside you. His thick member stretching you out in a blissful sting that he could make you feel. You both sighed at the feeling, and you rested your head in the crook of his neck holding on to him with a near death grip.
You could feel yourself throb as he went back to working. His hands lightly brushing your sides every time he flipped a page or went to jot a note down in his notebook, causing jolts to go down your body. You tried to grind your hips to provide the teeniest bit of relief, Bodhi would only grip your thighs with a bruising force.
“Stay still,” he hissed, his head rolling back as he felt you clench around him again. A small smirk graced your lips, an idea coming to your mind.
One of your hands slid in between you, and found your clit. You moaned, as your fingers circled the sensitive nub.
“Y/n…” he warned, listening to the sweet noises you made in his ear, gripping the quill in his hand tightly. He had thought he had the upper hand in this, but as you touched yourself, his cock warming your insides, he felt the remaining bit of his dissolve crumble. “You’re such a fucking brat.” He held your hips, halting your movements.
“Do something about it then.” You challenged, pressing a chaste kiss to his full lips.
He thrusted up into you, sounds sweet as sin coming from your throats. A wicked smile twisted on to your face, finally. “I fully intend to.” He mumbled, pulling you into another kiss, this time longer and heated. You nipped at his lower lip, earning a hiss from him as you slipped your tongue into his mouth.
Drilling into you at a slow agonizing pace, your tongues fought for dominance, the kiss becoming broken up between strings of noises leaving the both of you. The slow burn pleasure painstakingly from the pace he had set. You tried to lower yourself up and down to go at a faster pace and to your dismay he slowed his movements more, squeezing your hips in caution.
You pulled away panting, “more.” You were a whimpering mess, frustrated to find your release. “Please, Bodhi.”
“Just because you get what you want doesn’t mean you still can’t be punished.” A lazy smirk etched on to his broad jaw. “I have to remind you who you belong to.”
He slowly thrusted up into you again, making you cry out. His face contorted to a look of pleasure as he provided deep slow strokes into you, the sight of him biting his now bruised lip heavenly.
“I’m yours, please.” You begged, nails biting into his shoulders. “Only yours.” You cried when he thrusted particularly harder when you said that.
“Y’ feel so good around me.” He drawled. “Like your pussy was made for me, sweetheart.” His words caused an effect on your whole body from your pussy clenching harder around him to your heart swelling from the praise.
The atmosphere felt entirely different from the usual casual hook ups from before. His forehead resting against yours, occasionally nuzzling your nose with his whispering lines of worship for you taking his time.
“Feels so good,” you panted, looping your fingers in his curls at the nape of his neck. You could feel yourself go dumb as his fingers found your clit, circling it with the same agonizing pace of his cock. You don’t know how much of this you could take. “Please, please, please let me ride you.”
“Do you deserve to ride me?” He taunted in between thrusts.
You nodded vigorously, “please let me make you feel good, Boh. Please.”
He stopped playing with your clit, bringing his fingers to your swollen lips. You sucked your juices off of them, tasting yourself as he leaned back in the chair.
“Mm, since you’ve been begging so nicely.” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
The moans you released as you fucked yourself onto Bodhi’s cock were angelic. Letting you lower yourself up and down, watching as you got lost, getting drunk on his manhood. His hands had a firm grip on your waist, helping guide you down his length.
“That’s it, ride me like the good slut you are.” He watched your cunt sink onto him, swallowing his length whole.
You could start to feel the familiar coil of release start to come undone, and you knew you weren’t gonna last long. The sounds of your slick and his pants encouraging you to go faster.
Bodhi sensed the way you gripped him, you were going to climax, and met your rhythm bucking his hips upward. “You gonna come f’me?” He asked.
You could only mewl in response, the pleasure rendering you speechless as you rode him harder. Your vision blurred with stars, your body going rigid from the surge of tingling pleasure that electrified your body. The coil finally unraveling in your core as you orgasmed. You let out a throaty moan that was muffled by his lips, kissing passionately.
The tawny skinned man didn’t stop his movements, feeling his own release chasing yours. His aching cock twitched in need of relief. He muttered curses, his pace getting sloppier as he whimpered your name.
“Come for me, Boh.” You whispered softly. His arms wrapped tightly around your midsection, clinging to you like his life depended on it as he kept fucking you.
You felt the twitch, and his release shoot into you, a guttural groan following it. Feeling the mix of your arousals seeping out of you, his cock throbbing.
The heavy breathing from the both of you was the only noise in the room, you two staying in the position. You lightly scratched his scalp letting him regain his composure, his arms loosely holding you still. After a minute, he leaned away looking at you silently.
The intense gaze made you self conscious, clearing your throat as indication you were getting up. His arms only tightened around you once more, but he let his cock sink out of you, feeling your releases cover both of your thighs.
“I should get going,” you stated bluntly.
“Stay the night?” He reached over for the t-shirt that was crumpled on the floor beside his desk. Gingerly wiping you off first, being extremely gentle and careful to not be too abrasive with your sensitive parts, before he cleaned himself off.
You blinked in surprise, he never asked that before—let alone so nonchalant. You two never stayed too long in one another’s quarters after, let alone spend the night with one another. This would encroach the boundaries you mentally placed on this arrangement, ultimately entangling what you had already felt for the man in front of you.
“Aren’t you worried someone will see?” You asked warily.
He offered his usual boyish grin. “That’s kind of the point, sweetheart.”
Personally the pacing was weird for me to write, but I hope it gave you guys what you needed! The idea of fwb possessive Bodhi now has me in a chokehold lmao. Like I said, I am always open to improvements and feedback as this was a bit out of my comfort zone 🫶🏻🩷
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inlovewithpandora · 10 months
Text
- Instructions -
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Pairing: Hobie x fem!pregnant!reader
Request: [ @spidersthetic ] building a new piece of furniture from a flat pack together w Hobie || Ok, so what I was thinking for this was reader is pregnant and they're setting up the nursery and Hobie claims to know how to build the crib without the instructions and she doubts he can but enjoys the show as he struggles so like 10 minutes later, he gives up and asks her to give him the instructions and she tries not to laugh and comforts him a little.
Synopsis: Hobie tries to put together your child’s crib but it doesn’t goes the way he planned in his head.
Content: fluff, established relationship, Hobie trying to avoid instructions at all costs, reader supporting him no matter what, small Miguel diss, Reader being a cutie, cute and fluffy pregnancy fic
Author’s Note: I had fun writing this! This is my first time writing for astv or anything outside of avatar so I hope you all enjoy this!
- Shoutout to @spidersthetic for all her encouraging words and helping me while I’ve been making my transition to writing for astv! If it wasn’t for her sending me prompts/requests I wouldn’t have known what to write!
Word Count: 710
Extra: Requests are closed! || Likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated❤️!
Links: Navigation || Astv Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Taglist
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“Hobie, baby, can you please just read the instructions? I’ve been sitting in here with you for half an hour and nothing is done.”
“I told you I don’t need instructions. I got this. Don’t you have faith in your man?” His overconfident smile rises as he walks over and plants a kiss on your forehead to reassure you that he could handle this since in his eyes, it’s a minuscule task.
You shake your head, a chuckle emerging from your lips, knowing that this was going to go the opposite of what Hobie has in mind. “You’re right baby. I’m sorry, you got this!” You give him a wide smile along with two thumbs up to emphasize your support, and settle back to watching him once again attempt to put together your unborn child’s crib.
It’s been ten minutes since his last attempt, and just like you assumed it isn’t going well. However you wouldn’t deny that it was currently your source of entertainment. Hobie has multiple pieces scattered around the nursery; screws, and bolts attached to parts they shouldn’t be. And he looks by all means confused about how to assemble the crib.
As Hobie continues trying to figure out which part goes where, he starts growing frustrated. Each time he puts two pieces together, they don’t fit or the screw doesn’t align properly, which makes him groan as the feeling of aggravation arises a tad more with each passing failure.
You know he’s struggling and that he needs the instructions, but due to his stubbornness being mixed with a sense of determination, he doesn’t give up, at least for about another fifteen minutes.
“Can you pass me the bloody instructions?” He grumbles, hating the fact he has to admit defeat and cave to using someone else’s ideology of how to build a piece of furniture.
Looking at the scowl formed on his lips makes you want to burst with laughter, but you implement all your self-restraint and bury it deep down, knowing that it would only make him feel worse about not being able to complete the task solely on his own.“Here,” you hand him the pamphlet of instructions, “Honey, it’s okay to use the instructions, you know. I heard that Miguel had to use instructions to work the majority of technology in Spider-HQ even though he acts like he knows everything like the back of his hand.” You say in a playful tone, knowing how much Hobie dislikes Miguel and enjoys hearing stories about his screw ups.
“Really? Well, that does make sense. He is almost ancient at this point. I don’t see why he doesn’t retire and live a regular life instead of chasing Miles around Earth-928B like a madman.” He can’t help letting the laugh rise, thinking about how Miles blasted and defeated Miguel in front of everyone.
“Yes! So my point is that it’s okay to use instructions. They're here for a reason, which is to help.” You rub his back gently, hoping this will help lessen his complaints.
“You’re right, I’ll use the instructions.” He opens the pamphlet and begins to correctly assemble the crib, which makes you happy since you’ve been wanting this to finally be completed with the baby just a few months away from arriving.
“See, baby, your daddy is finally getting it done. He just needed a little kick in the pants from mommy.” You giggle softly to yourself as you rub your baby bump and watch Hobie make the final adjustments on the crib.
“How does it look?” He asks, inspecting the fully assembled crib in the corner of the nursery.
“Perfect, Hobie. I knew you could get it done!”
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I hope you enjoyed❤️!
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Editor - @justmemyselfandthemoon
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Taglist: @inspace1 @number1gal @phoenixx69 @savagemickey03 @soilmayo @gamerxpfighter
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©️inlovewithpandora ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 | All rights reserved. Do not repost, reupload, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.
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starfinss · 1 year
Text
Efflorescent — Tighnari
𝘍𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘮: Genshin Impact
𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: Tighnari + Reader
𝘙𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨: NSFW
𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 8,495
𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: Triggered by unseasonably cool weather, Avidiya forest is alive with rare flora. Upon going to investigate it, you and Tighnari get more than you bargained for. 
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It was supposed to be an ordinary expedition. And by all accounts, it was, until you found that stupid clearing.
The weather that week was uncharacteristically cool for Avidiya Forest, as ushered in by a passing thunderstorm, and the change in temperature had caused flora that rarely bloomed to come to life, painting the forest with splashes of color, and it wasn’t until a few days after the storm that you began to take notice of the unusual plants.
So when Tighnari had rushed to your room that morning, rousing you from your slumber, you were just as excited as he was to go look for rare samples.
The conversation as you walked into the tree line was full of quiet excitement, the clinking of the glass sample jars in your rucksack almost musical against the morning stillness. You were used to the characteristic balmy humidity that was omnipresent in the rainforests of Sumeru, and the cool breeze felt lovely against your skin. The sky was perfect blue, cloudless and painted with streaks of gold and marigold hues as the sun rose.
The Akademiya would never allow this.
You smiled to yourself at the thought, knowing full well how strenuous it would be to get permission to do this if you were still with the Akademiya. You’d have to talk to your instructors, get permission, write a paper, write another paper, write a proposal, and the list goes on. It was all far too much for you, when all you ever wanted was to go out and discover.
“What are you thinking?” Tighnari asked, head cocked slightly to the side, eyes inquisitive.
“Just about how nice this is,” you replied, pulling your rucksack up higher on your back.
“It is quite beautiful,” Tighnari said fondly, “I wonder if we will find any Avidiya Lilies.”
You hummed in assent, your interest showing in the way your eyes lit up. You’d only seen the flower he mentioned as a bud, coiling along vines encircling trees. It only bloomed when it was cool enough, just after a storm, and since the cool had lingered, you were wondering if the flower had remained in bloom, just as Tignnari was wondering.
Small animals skittered past you as you walked, shroomboars and foxes paying you little mind, as they were used to the presence of the forest rangers such as yourself and Tighnari. You loved it out there; totally at one with nature, and filled with a sense of peace like no other.
Avidiya Forest was like a living organism, so full of vibrancy and life, awash with color and all sorts of smells. If you were hungry, you could stop and forage for mushrooms. If you were thirsty, there were plenty of clear streams you could drink from. Nature provided, and that was one of your favorite things about it. You took a deep lungful of forest air as you walked, a smile spreading across your face.
“There!” Tignnari cried, his voice hushed as he knelt beside the path, “creeping silkweed.”
You knelt beside him, studying the small, pale blue blossoms, which were blooming on a fallen log, attached to a delicate vine. Your fingers brushed against the fragile petals, and you withdrew your shears from your pack.
Carefully, you snipped off a segment of the vine, packing some soft dirt and clear water from a nearby stream into the jar before adding the sample. With a satisfying click, you screwed the lid closed, replacing the jar in the rucksack.
“I’ve only seen those in bloom at twilight, and even then, they often stray closed. It’s amazing to see them in bloom right now. When the conditions are right, they’re supposed to glow. It’s very beautiful.”
You stared at the remaining flowers on the vine, admiring the way the pale blue of the petals tapered off into white the closer it got to the soft yellow of the center. Veins of deep indigo laced up and along the petals, a beautiful contrast to the gentle color.
You stood when Tighnari did, listening intently to the information and facts he was giving you, happy to have the field experience rather than just looking at drawings of plants in a dusty textbook.
Tighnari looked like a painting in the fresh morning light. The dark of his hair was a sharp contrast to the lush green around you, the chartreuse of his bangs elegantly framing his pale, delicate face. Your face felt warm as you watched him, and when he saw you looking, he gave you a friendly smile.
“Is there something on your mind?” He asked gently, his eyes genuine, and you blushed, tearing your gaze away from his face.
“No, I was just listening. You were talking about the hypanthium of the silkweed blossoms?”
Tighnari nodded, eyes lighting up as he continued on talking about the various parts of the flower, and you went right on listening.
It wasn’t until about two hours later, when you were sitting down to rest and refresh yourselves when you caught your first lungful of something new.
You paused mid-gulp as you drank from your waterskin, moving the spout away from your lips as you took another deep breath. It was something you’d never smelled before, like jasmine and lavender, vanilla and lemongrass. It was indescribably scrumptious, smelling of earth and flowers, of your favorite incense, all at once, shifting, sending your senses into overdrive, even if it was still rather faint, requiring several deep breaths to get another whiff of; the kind of scent that you had to take several lungfuls to fully appreciate, or to even place. You had to wonder, out of academic curiosity and for more selfish reasons, where exactly that wonderful scent was coming from.
“I see that you smell it, too,” Tighnari mused.
You nodded, and suddenly, you were aware of how nice Tighnari’s voice was. It was musical against your ears, making you smile.
“It’s new,” he continued, frowning, “I’ve never noticed it before, and with my oversensitive olfactory system, it would have been very evident.”
“Is it dangerous, do you think?” You asked.
“I doubt it,” Tighnari said, glancing sidelong at you, “do you know of anything that would smell like this?”
You shook your head. “It smells like… like many things. All of them are wonderful. Maybe it’s supposed to draw in certain insects, or animals. I don’t know what made it this strong. That’s interesting.”
Tighnari’s brows pushed together, and he was clearly deep in thought.
You’d never noticed just how good looking he was before. You already knew that Tighnari was handsome, that was obvious. You were attracted to him, as many undoubtedly were, and he was a very dear friend. But right now, lit by the sun filtering through the canopy above, he looked more incredible than anything you’d ever seen. With him this close to you, you could smell the earthen scent of his soap, and—
“I’d like to take a sample.”
His voice snapped you out of your staring, and you coughed to hide your embarrassment.
Get ahold of yourself. Think about all of that when he isn’t less than a foot away. Collei already teases you enough.
Truthfully, you wanted a sample, too. You were always hungry for new information, and this was no exception. You eagerly pulled a sample jar from your rucksack, passing it to Tighnari. He sniffed the air once, then a second time, before motioning for you to follow him.
“I learned about plants like this in the Akademiya,” Tighnari explained, “they’re bait, like you said, for small animals and insects. I don’t think the plant is carnivorous, it’s just a way to spread the pollen around, since the scent is nearly irresistible. I’ve never heard of it affecting humans, or my species, this strongly before, however.”
You remembered something like that in a textbook, but the name of the flower in question escaped you. Also, the flower you were thinking of usually affected animals roughly the size of a squirrel or a fox, and not the size of a fully grown person.
The scent got stronger as you walked, off the beaten path and into a clearing.
You stopped after stepping past Tighnari, your breath caught in your throat as you took in the sight before you. There was a waterfall tumbling off a cliff and into a clear, glimmering pool. The pool was lined with stones worn smooth, as well as large slabs of slate. Patches of young grass were peeping through the cracks and bleeding into the small, surrounding meadow. Soft, golden sunlight was scattering through the leaves, casting speckled patterns across the grass, gleaming on the water.
Finally, there, growing on the stone wall, nestled in a curtain of vines beside the waterfall, was a blanket of lotus-like flowers. They were reddish pink, some tinged purple, with multiple layers of petals circled around a small yellow center. Filaments, thickly coated in pollen, were protruding from the flowers’ centers, and you imagined that this was the most likely cause of the powerful scent.
“There they are,” Tignnari said, and you were suddenly hyper aware of his athletic form at your back. The scent of that soap you noted earlier was mingling deliciously with the overpowering fragrance of the flowers, with the scent of his skin, which was somehow all you could even think about now.
“Yeah,” you said, clearing your throat and turning to face your companion, “any idea what they are?”
His brows furrowed, lip catching between his teeth as he pondered your question, and you couldn’t stop yourself from admiring how unbearably attractive that simple action was. You swallowed thickly, turning away from him about three quarters, just to give yourself some time to breathe.
If only you could remember the effect those flowers had on such animals, but, as it often happens in times of need, you were drawing a blank.
It was Tighnari’s turn to clear his throat, and the intonation made the hair on the back of your neck stand up.
“Shears, please,” he said, and you forced yourself to nod as you passed them to him, a jolt of electricity passing up your spine when his fingertips brushed against yours. He clearly felt it too, because he looked at you for a handful of seconds before gingerly pulling away with the shears.
Blushing, you trailed after him as he approached the tangle of flowers.
Tighnari’s eyes were lovely. Two toned, fading from brown into forest green; eyes like you’d never seen before. They were one of your favorite things about him, among other things. The cut of his jaw, the way the space between his eyebrows creased when he was focused, as he was now, carefully taking a snipping of a couple of the fragrant blossoms.
You forgot to breathe until he handed you back the jar, and that was when you got your first direct hit of the scent. It was like being kicked in the chest in its intensity. It made you dizzy, as you cradled the blooms in your hand, putting soft dirt and water into the jar, placing the flowers down and fastening the top. You put the jar into your rucksack as carefully as you could with your hands shaking as badly as they were before you gently pushed the bag aside and sat down on the soft grass.
Your head was spinning. You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears, like how you can after you’ve been running.
“I need to rest,” you said.
“It’s the scent,” Tighnari said, his voice lower than it was before, “something is… wrong.”
Oh, Gods. You were getting warm. And not normal Sumeru weather warm, worryingly, feverishly warm. You pulled your shawl off, draping it over your rucksack and rolling up your sleeves.
Tighnari rolled his shoulders back, softly breathing as he sat down beside you, and you could feel that heat spread across your body at an alarming pace. You could hardly take your eyes off him, and you watched with rapt attention as his tongue flicked out to wet his bottom lip. What were you feeling?
Everything was warm and getting even warmer; everything was hot, and you felt like you were suffocating.
“Stop that,” you blurted, “stop— everything.”
Tighnari looked puzzled. “Stop— stop what? I’m not doing anything.”
The crease between his eyebrows was back as he studied your face, and you felt yourself grow miserably warmer.
“You’re perspiring,” he said, softly, “I am, too. Whatever this is, it is affecting both of us. Your breathing is accelerated, as well.”
You realized it was. Your breath was coming in quick, shallow bursts, and you consciously tried to take deeper breaths. You quailed away in surprise and needless alarm when he reached for you, and when he pressed two of his fingers to your pulse point, you felt like an electric shock went down your body, stronger than when he’d touched you before when he took the shears.
“Your pulse is very quick,” he noted, “but still strong. It’s much too cool for you to be suffering from heat stroke, but it is hot out here all of a sudden, isn’t it?”
You nodded absently.
“Mydriasis,” he muttered, “I suspect with myself, as well. Archons, it really is too warm.”
Sure enough, the dueling color of his irises was thickly ringed around the pale circumference of his pupils, which were widely dilated. His breath was quick, matching yours, and you felt heat begin to simmer beneath your skin, nearly suffocating where his hand still lingered, though gloved, against the skin of your throat.
Your own gaze fell to his lips, soft and full, and you realized just how badly you wanted to kiss him. You’d wanted to kiss him before, in several instances, but doing so would irreparably damage your platonic friendship, which was the last thing you wanted. Now, you could not give less of a damn. You’d give anything to feel his mouth against yours, to feel his skin—
Stop. Stop, Archons help me.
“The scent,” Tighnari said, voice lightly breathless, “there’s a-a correlation between the scent and these symptoms, I think the microgametophytes in the air, combined with the odor is having a physiological effect, on the both of us.”
It took you a handful of seconds to process his words, because the sound of his voice was suddenly the most distracting thing in the entire world; no song you’d ever heard could compare, and the heat beneath your skin was becoming nearly unbearable.
“Pollen,” you said, your brain catching up, “you think it’s the pollen?”
“Yes,” Tighnari said, the hand on your throat dropping to the curve of your shoulder, “it resembles oxytocin, in a very heavy dose, coupled with accelerated lutrophin production, driving reproductive urges.”
It clicked in your head.
Your face turned several shades of red, and you nodded once. Of course. What better way to spread the pollen than to draw in whatever unsuspecting animal, slather the stuff on its fur or whiskers when it leans in for a sniff, and then passing it along when said animal gives in to its reproductive urges and—
“A-an aphrodisiac.”
Tighnari’s eyes darted away from your face, then back to meeting your own gaze.
“Correct.”
The implication hung heavy in the already suffocating air as the sounds of your breathing overlapped, interrupted only by the thrum of the waterfall.
“T-the water,” Tighnari said, his voice strained, “we should—”
“Tighnari,” you said, addressing him, and you intended to continue speaking, until you noticed the way his breath hitched as you said his name. It sent a wave of suffocating, shameful arousal down your body, and you tried your best to ignore it. His hand against your skin was searing, even through the glove, and it took everything in you not to reach out and touch him.
Oh Gods, oh Gods, oh Gods—
“The water,” you repeated, finally, your eyes flicking to the waterfall, “right. Let’s wash off.”
You figured that this plan was flawed, as the water was probably saturated in the pollen, but you were so overheated that as you hurried to unfasten your clothing, the feel of the air against your skin was a mercy. You pulled at the various buckles fastening your Forest Ranger uniform to your body, pulling off your blouse, then your shorts and boots, but as you did, something caught your eye as Tignnari moved to unfasten the toga he wore over his clothing.
There, straining at the front of his trousers, was a distinct shape against the dark fabric. It was hidden by the excess cloth before, but now that this was gone, the evidence of the pollen’s effects was more than evident.
But you weren’t the only one with wandering eyes.
You realized that Tighnari’s eyes were riveted to your bra-covered chest, to the now-exposed skin of your waist, and you watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. An exquisite flush painted his perfect, pale cheeks as he realized you saw him looking.
Quickly, he pulled off his gloves, then tugging his sweatshirt over his head, leaving him bare chested, and oh, you were an absolute goner. His chest was much more muscular than you imagined (and not that you did), toned and lithe and lean, with hard ridges of muscle in all the right places. Of course, he’d have a great body, you reasoned, with all the activity he does, and like the other rangers, you were certain he stuck to the strength training and cardio work you were supposed to do to keep in shape.
You tore your hungry gaze from his body, standing up to step into the water, which was colder than you expected, reaching your mid thigh as you stepped into the pool. You tried to focus on you and not how the space between your thighs was aching, and you stretched your arms over your head with a breathless sigh.
A soft splash filled the air, and a ripple traveled across the surface of the water as Tignnari stepped into the pool as well. When you turned on instinct to look at him, you wished you hadn’t, because you were helpless, your eyes raking down his defined chest, lingering on the thin threads of battle scars, his body tapering off into a trim waist, where his underwear hung low on his hips. It took every ounce of your waning willpower not to jump him right there.
His erection was even more evident through the thin cotton of his underwear, and you realized you could see the flush of pink through the now damp fabric as it clung to his skin, and absently, sinfully, you wondered what it would be like to put your mouth—
No, no, no—
But then your focus was brought straight back to him as he moved closer, his hand reaching out to catch a droplet of water traveling down the curve of your waist with his thumb. His eyes weren’t shy with their wandering, and you knew it was the pollen talking, but Gods, it felt nice, for him to look at you like you were the most exquisite thing he’d ever laid eyes on.
“I-I apologize,” he whispered, but he didn’t sound apologetic.
His hand remained on your waist, fingers tracing a pattern against your skin, causing you to shiver, and your own hand rose to catch his wrist, stopping him. The feel of his skin on yours was like someone applying a salve to a burn, and you had to stop yourself from sighing embarrassingly in pleasure at the sensation.
“Terribly sorry,” he said, sounding even less sorry, and his voice was lower than you’d ever heard it, “I— I can’t seem to help myself. I will go to the far end of the pool—”
“It’s fine,” you said, a little too quickly, your voice light and breathy.
You realized a little too late that you were moving closer to him, and by the time you had, you could feel his breath fanning against your skin, sending violent shivers down your body.
There was a warning in Tighnari’s eyes, but not a particularly firm one, that disappeared with every passing second as his gaze fell to your lips, raking down your body, and you almost lost your composure when he caught his lower lip lightly between his teeth again.
“May I—” Tighnari asked, finally, a note of need leaking into his voice, “may I kiss you?”
Your breath left your lungs in a dizzying swoop as you gave in.
“Gods, yes.”
That was all it took for him to surge forward, his lips connecting with yours more gently than you expected, but that didn’t stop you from tangling your hands into his hair, pulling his body close to your own. You felt his arms wind around your waist, holding you flush to him, and when your tongue swiped along his lower lip, he didn’t hesitate to give you access.
And everything rapidly went downhill from there.
The kiss was messy and uncoordinated, your tongue tangling with his, and you felt one of his hands rise to cup the base of your skull, holding your mouth to his, only separating every so often if only to reconnect. You were suddenly being crowded against the edge of the pool, his arms going on either side of your body to cage you in. Your thighs parted as his hips moved against yours, and he groaned lowly into your mouth when you finally made contact with him where he needed it most.
He was so hard. It had to be uncomfortable to be confined by the little fabric he was wearing, and you wanted so badly to touch him, but he beat you to it, one of his hands trailing up your body to palm your breast through your bra before fumbling with the clasp. You were about to lift a hand to assist him when he managed to unhook the garment, and you broke the kiss briefly to discard it.
“I can’t stop,” Tighnari mumbled against your lips, breathless.
“Then don’t,” you urged, and Tighnari’s grip on your body tightened.
His palm felt like perfection on your flesh, and you whined into his mouth when he rolled your nipple between two fingers, tugging gently and making you arch your back into his touch. His hands were calloused from years of working with them, with the soil, with his bow, and the rough skin sent delightful tingles up your spine.
Your hand slid down his torso, feeling the dips and curves of his defined abdominals, and you reveled in the sound of his breath hitching, his muscles tensing as your fingers crept closer to where the waistband of his underwear met skin.
“Can I—” You started, and he nodded, reconnecting your lips in a chaste kiss.
“Please,” he panted, “please.”
You’d never seen Tighnari anything but composed, so to see him like this was as disarming as it was arousing. You palmed him gently through the thin fabric, and at the sound of his breath catching sharply in his throat, you pressed a little harder.
That elicited a more extreme reaction. Tighnari groaned against your lips, a sound that prompted a cry of your own, and his hips pushed forward against your hand. You squeezed him through the fabric, your fingers dipping past and grazing just the very base of him, making him shudder, a stricken hiss escaping his lips. Fascinated by his reaction, you teased the clearly sensitive flesh with the soft tips of your fingers until he caught your wrist.
“Don’t tease me,” he murmured, his voice firm.
Tighnari guided your hand to his waistband, and you slowly pulled it down to tug him free. You paused for a moment, breath unsteady as you took in the feeling of him against your palm. He was thick and heavy, and long enough to make you dizzy with arousal. He groaned softly as you explored the new territory, mapping out the spots you knew contained the most nerve endings with your fingertips. Finally, you wrapped your fingers around him, stroking slowly.
“Oh,” he gasped, eyes half lidded as he broke away from your mouth, “oh.”
You rested your forehead against his as you looked down to where your hand was encircling him, and you felt him throb against your palm, the tip of his dick visibly twitching. You bit back a moan as his breath expelled itself through gritted teeth.
“Rub the tip— yeah.”
An obscene moan fell from his lips as you slowly circled the tip of his cock with your thumb, and you spread the leaking precum around the sensitive flesh, aiding in your motions as you stroked him, long and slow.
“Fuck, that’s good,” he muttered, eyes slipping closed.
Gradually, you sped up, squeezing where you observed that he liked it, and he grabbed at your body, hands on your breasts, the curve of your ass, and you knew he was unable to focus on anything other than the sensations he was feeling at that moment. He let out a quick, stuttering exhale as you squeezed gently, biting back a groan.
You picked up the pace, and he was canting his hips along with your hand, his breath leaving his lips mixed with an incoherent praise as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, sharp teeth sinking into the soft skin of your shoulder. He laved the damaged flesh with his tongue, soothing it, and you couldn’t help but moan, thighs rubbing together in a futile attempt to alleviate the pressure building there.
Tighnari’s mouth trailed down your torso, his lips closing around one of your nipples, and you gasped, back arching, your free hand flying to his hair, the sensitivity making your head spin. You knew it was the pollen heightening your senses like this, but Archons be damned if you weren’t enjoying it. You wanted him inside of you more than you’d wanted anything in your life. You wanted anything inside of you. And so, when he pressed his palm between your thighs, his head rising to lock his lips against yours, it was like he’d read your mind.
“Dammit, You’re so wet,” he seethed, breath heavy, expelling through his teeth, “I can smell it; how aroused you are. You’ve wanted this, haven’t you?”
Your face turned pink, but you nodded, squirming against his hand as he pushed your panties aside, his fingers finally sinking inside of you.
“Good,” Tighnari said, breathlessly, “I’ve wanted this, too.”
You cried out into the crook of his neck as his fingers filled you, stretching you so perfectly, and you were helpless as you ground your hips down, your fingers tightening around Tighnari’s cock, drawing out a needy groan.
He wanted this, you dully registered, just like you did. That meant he liked you, he felt the same, he— oh Gods you couldn’t think.
“I love the way you touch me,” he whispered, his voice hushed and chaste, “don’t stop, please.“
He whispered more hushed praises into the crook of your neck, hips bucking as you stroked him faster, and his thumb found your clit, making your legs tremble. His fingers weren’t very practiced, but he knew where he was touching, finding every spot inside of you with a certainty that made your knees feel weak, and you gasped sharply, inner walls fluttering around his fingers, making him groan. The pressure on your clit increased, making your hips jump, your heartbeat pounding in your ears, and it wasn’t long before you were grinding down onto his hand like a bitch in heat.
“Tighnari,” you gasped, head falling back.
“Our tactile receptors are affected by the pollen,” Tighnari said, ever the academic, even like this, “making us more sensitive, increasing oxytocin, making everything more intense.”
You were barely able to formulate a response, your brain fogged with desire so strong it was making you dizzy.
“Just don’t stop,” you gasped, back arching into his chest,
He curled his fingers inside of you, making you cry out.
“Not a chance.”
All eloquence and academic vocabulary flew out the window as you stroked him quicker and quicker, his words replaced with moans of ecstasy mixed with your name, muffled by your skin or filling the open air. You felt him twitch against your palm, his hips bucking harder, and from the deliriously pleasured expression on Tighnari’s face, you knew he was close.
“Fuck,” he gasped, “don’t stop, please, please—”
He was going to cum, and you could tell by the way his thrusts grew uneven, eventually stilling to let you control the pace, working him closer and closer to his release, making him hiss through his teeth.
“Ah… shit,” Tighnari blurted, his jaw clenching, face laced with a stricken expression, “don’t stop, I’m so close—”
You wanted to tell him you weren’t going to stop, but all you could manage was a desperate moan as you ground down on his hand, your head falling back at the divine pleasure, and Tighnari’s groans of ecstasy grew louder, mixing almost incoherently with your name as you continued to jerk him off, your rhythm in tandem with his own as he worked his fingers inside of you.
Your climax was creeping up on you faster than you wanted it to, urged on by the increased sensitivity from the pollen. Your free hand knotted in his hair, your fingers raking upwards to wrap around the base of his right ear, making him groan.
“M-my ears— Not usually that sensitive,” Tighnari stammered, puzzled, his expression hazy, “feels good normally, but not— oh.”
You hummed in assent, fingers rubbing where his ears met his scalp, making him cry out against your skin, the combination of sensations clearly overwhelming to him. His fingers were now curling inside of you, making your eyes roll back in your skull, hips moving with his hand as you squirmed in his hold.
All it took was one more squeeze at the base of his dick to send him over the edge.
“C-cumming, I’m cumming,” Tighnari’s gasped, and with a final buck of his hips, your fingers were coated with white, dripping down your knuckles, painting your stomach, and there was so much of it, hot against your skin. You worked him through his climax with sure, even strokes, and he wasn’t softening, even as you milked him dry.
The sounds he made were madly erotic, his face the perfect picture of ecstasy as he rode out his blissful high, his ears drooping to the sides of his head as his face pressed against your shoulder, teeth sinking into your skin once again.
He yanked your hand away abruptly, even as he continued to twitch, and you were suddenly on your back, laying at the side of of the pool, his hands tugging your panties down and off your legs. He held your thighs apart, pinning you in place as his mouth took the place his hand had been, his tongue hot against your cunt.
Your cries were far too loud, but you were beyond caring about volume as he held you down and devoured you, your clit trapped under his tongue, between his lips, and you were aching to be filled, but he wasn’t giving you that satisfaction, not yet. You were already so close, and all it took was that one final push before you toppled over the edge, sobbing his name, your hands knotting in his hair, but he didn’t even slow, not even as you convulsed under his touch.
Tighnari’s tongue flattened against your clit, dragging up in broad strokes, and you felt your head pitch back, gently knocking against the stones beneath it as you tried to close your thighs instinctively, but were barred from doing so. You felt Tighnari’s hands grab at the backs of your knees, hitching them over his shoulders as he moved closer.
“Please,” you cried, desperate and dizzy with torturous desire, “please, please, fuck me.”
You heard him, felt him snarl against your cunt, more animal than human as he sped up his pace, taking your clit into his mouth and sucking hard enough that it made stars dance across your blurry vision. You were suddenly cumming so hard that you couldn’t even breathe, your mouth wide open in a silent scream, back arched off the ground, your hands locked in a white knuckled grip in Tighnari’s hair as you clenched down hard on nothing.
He was gentler this time as he helped you through your climax, pulling away finally when you were incoherent with pleasure. You lay there, panting hard, your eyes half open as you tried to recover, but even that wasn’t enough. You could still feel the effects of the pollen coursing through your system, and from the way Tighnari was looking at you, it was the same for him.
“I’m on a birth control tonic,” you said, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him, “just— please, Tighnari, I feel like I’m burning inside.”
Tighnari’s hands went to rest on your parted thighs, pulling you forward and towards him, to where he stood, still thigh-deep in the water. Your own legs were submerged up to your knee as he pulled you flush to him, his cock pressing against your pubic bone.
“I won’t be able to stop,” Tighnari warned, “I apologize if it becomes too much, but I can’t promise you that—“
“Please,” you whined, growing more and more desperate, “I need you, I can’t take this anymore.”
That was all it took. Tighnari nodded a single time, once he was sure of your consent, and he reached between your bodies to line himself up with your entrance, slowly sheathing himself inside of you.
You made a soft, breathy whine as he filled you, a sound he juxtaposed with a heavy groan. The stretch was almost enough to send you over the edge right there, and if it weren’t for the effects of the pollen, you’d probably have felt more pain from the intrusion, but all you felt was a dull ache and a hint of discomfort.
“Oh, Gods,” Tignnari whispered, and you watched his hands flatten on the stones beside your hips, muscles tightening as he took in the new sensation.
His head tipped forward, his breathing heavy and uneven, and you used your thighs to pull him closer, disregarding the whisper of pain in the back of your mind as the pure relief of being filled up overtook you.
“Stay still, stay still,” he growled, the very threads of his control slipping away as he spoke, the warning clear in his voice, but you didn’t listen, pulling him forward again.
Your actions were met with a sound that was produced deep in his chest, like a warning an animal would give, and it hadn’t even occurred to you how the pollen would affect someone like Tighnari, someone with non-human heritage as opposed to yourself, and as he drew himself out, only to press back in again, your mind went blank, all semblance of scientific curiosity tossed out the window.
Your cries of pleasure mixed with his as he repeated the motion, again, and again, and again, and oh Gods, you couldn’t even think. The pace he adopted was clearly with your comfort in mind, but it was rapidly becoming not enough. You needed more, all you could fathom was how much you needed more.
“Faster,” you gasped, your voice barely there, but he heard you, as evident by the way his ears perked up.
Tighnari snarled, his grip on your body tightening, and when you whimpered, he lost control completely.
His fingers were sure to be pressing bruises into your flesh from how hard he was gripping your body, but you didn’t care, not when every cell in your body was demanding more, more, more. You were vaguely aware of your volume, and you put the back of your hand over your mouth in a half hearted attempt to quiet yourself, but it basically did fuck all, especially when Tighnari reached up to yank your hand away, pinning it by your side.
“I want to hear you,” he rasped, “every single sound you make, I want to hear it.”
Your brain fogged further with desire, fueled by the low, rough timbre Tighnari’s usually gentle voice had adopted, and you whined, back arching off the pleasantly cool stones beneath your body. With his words, every last shred of dignity that you’d feebly been clinging to evaporated.
Tignnari hiked one of your legs over his shoulder as he inched closer, rolling his hips in a way that made stars blast across your hazy vision. You’d never been this aroused before in your life, and all you could do was squirm and cry out as Tighnari fucked you absolutely dumb.
“Need more,” Tighnari hissed, his hands sliding along your body, “need more, needmoreneedmore—”
He let out a low, keening moan as you tightened around him, your hips bucking against his, toes curling. You felt like your sanity was slipping through your fingers like a palmful of sand, and you realized with a sudden shock that you were about to cum, and you were about to cum hard.
The climax hit you with the force of a tidal wave, and your body went stiff, back arching off the stones, hands scrambling for purchase and finding nothing. Your mind was a sea of empty thought, stars bursting across your vision as you convulsed, pulsing around Tighnari’s cock, and he wasn’t even pausing, a snarl tearing from his chest as he pushed deeper inside of you.
Your continued climax was making you lightheaded as you panted for breath, the decline less of a decline and more of a work up to yet another peak as Tighnari kept a steady, dizzying pace, making your eyes roll into the back of your skull. Everything was too much, but it still wasn’t even slightly enough, a bizarre oxymoron that sent shockwaves dancing across your electrified nerves.
Tignnari twitched inside of you, making you whimper, and you looked up at him through your lashes, watching his face. The mask of delirium was back, Tighnari’s eyes wild as he drove himself towards his own climax with deep, even thrusts that grew more and more unsteady.
“Take it,” you heard him rasp, “take it take it take it—”
He shoved himself all the way inside of you, and with a sudden shout, he twitched sharply, and you could feel him filling you, stuffing you full with searing heat. Somewhere in the back of your pollen addled mind, you were glad that your birth control tonic kept you from getting pregnant with a guarantee.
You could feel his cum leaking out of you, and when he noticed, his fingers swept along the curve of your ass and shoved the liquid back inside of you, a sensation that made you let out a startled moan.
Without pulling out, Tighnari was shifting, switching places with you on the stones, where the sat himself down, with you in his lap. The sudden change of position caused you to sink down, pushing him deeper inside of you, a sensation that made you gasp sharply. You appreciated some aspects of the shift, however, as this gave you full access to his body, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders as his hands found your hips, dragging up and along your waist.
He said nothing as he found your mouth, joining it with his in a kiss far more gentle than you’d been expecting, an expression of affection amid the suffocating lust that afflicted you both.
Slowly, you moved, rocking your hips as you sank back down onto him, a motion that made you cry out, a sound that mingled almost musically with his own cry. His nails dug into the plush of your thighs, one hand sliding down where you were joined with him to rub circles against your clit, an action that made you stiffen sharply, almost started by the burst of sensation.
His mouth left yours to trail down your throat, teeth grazing against the spot he’d bitten before and making you shiver. He was moving with you as you rocked your hips, one hand on your waist to help you along, his hips bucking to meet you every time you sank back down onto his cock. You heard him whisper your name, and you bent to kiss him again, an action he returned with vigor.
Your fingers combed through his hair, meeting where his ears met his scalp, and you heard him gasp into your mouth as your nails grazed against the sensitive skin. He broke the kiss to tuck his face into the crook of your neck, keening desperately, his grip on your waist tightening.
“Keep touching me there,” he finally managed, and who were you to deny him?
Your nails dragged along his ears, making him groan, and you felt his arm wind around your waist, taking over controlling the pace as he pushed you down onto his cock, guiding you as you moved. You somewhat appreciated it; your thighs had been growing sore. You assisted him by rolling your hips as you moved with him, something he rewarded with a sharp buck of his hips, making blurry stars scatter across your vision, a shrill whine tearing itself from your throat.
Tighnari pressed down on your clit, making you tense, teeth gritting and eyes squeezing closed, and you felt him trail open mouthed kisses down your throat, overloading you with sensation, and you sobbed his name as he tugged you closer, filling you so completely. You felt like you were going insane, and not one part of you wanted it to stop.
You couldn’t even speak as your climax drew closer, only able to let out a strangled cry as Tighnari’s teeth sank into the delicate skin of your shoulder, the pain barely noticeable as it mixed with the overwhelming pleasure. If anything, it just heightened it all, your nerves going off like fireworks under his touch.
With a sudden gasp, your climax slammed into you, making you still as the sensations hit you with enough force to make you dizzy. You were vaguely aware of the sounds Tignnari was making as you tightened around him, muffled by your shoulder, and you were suddenly under him again, sprawled across the stones once more, hands pinned above your head with one of his as he fucked you at a near punishing pace.
His eyes locked onto yours as he moved against you, and you couldn’t even imagine what your face looked like. You could feel tears of overstimulation on your cheeks, sweat on your brow, and you were sure you were an absolute wreck, but so was he. His hair was a mess, the chartreuse of his bangs intermixing with the dark of the rest of his hair, and his face was flushed a rather lovely pink, eyes half lidded. His ears had fallen to droop on either side of his head. His lips were kiss swollen and pink, and you were sure your own were the same.
Tighnari’s free hand slid down your body to hike one of your legs up around his waist, gripping at the plush of your thigh, and you whimpered as his nails bit into the tender skin. You were so sensitive it was almost unbearable, and you tossed your head back when his thumb pressed your clit again, letting out an unrestrained wail, tears beading in the corners of your eyes, and you felt Tighnari kiss them away before joining his mouth to yours once more.
You knew he was going to cum from the unsteady way he was breathing, and you were too, far too sensitive to stand anything else. You didn’t know how much more you could take; everything was blurring together in a cacophony of noise and sensation that left you straining against Tighnari’s grip on your wrists.
“Fill me, please,” you gasped abruptly, surprising even yourself, and Tighnari pulled back from your mouth to gaze at you, eyes wild.
“That’s what you want?” He snarled, “you want me to stuff you full of my cum? yeah? You wanna be filled?”
You nodded rapidly, his words making suffocating arousal course through your veins, and you felt him pick up the pace, forcing you into another dizzying climax, your back arching sharply off the ground. You could just barely hear him whispering praises over the thrum of blood in your ears, and you let out a strangled whine as his mouth connected with your nipple, making you thrash in his hold. He wasn’t even letting you breathe, and all you could think about was him, all around you, mixing with the scent of the pollen in the air in an intoxicating fragrance.
Mercifully, he removed his hand from between your bodies, simply resting it on your hip as he chased his own climax next, whispering your name and filthy praises as he drew closer and closer, his pace growing uneven.
He finally reached his end with a low, nearly possessive growl, holding onto you with a bruising force as he stuffed you full once more, heat blooming in your belly, uncaring about the way his cum was leaking out of you. His teeth were gritted, eyes squeezed shut, and you felt his grip on your wrists loosen just enough that you could wrestle free, so you pulled him down to meet you in a fierce kiss.
He finally slowed, his breath heavy and uneven as he came down from his high, his forehead resting against yours as he remained still, softening inside of you. You relaxed back onto the stones, pleased by the cool temperature they brought, soothing against your burning skin. Your breath was still quick and thin as you recovered, and you could still smell the pollen in the air, but exhaustion was taking over, forcing your eyelids to close.
Tighnari pulled out of you, and you whined at the sudden emptiness, but recovered quickly as he tugged you onto the grass and to his chest, nose nuzzling into your hair where he pressed a kiss. Neither of you were able to speak, completely spent, and you shifted slowly to wrap an arm around his bare waist. The pollen’s scent was falling into the background as the exertion began to wash over you, and you could tell it was the same for Tighnari.
You were asleep in a matter of seconds, pressed close to him.
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Warm.
You were warm. And it was dark. Well, darker. You’d been sleeping, you knew that much. The sounds of Avidiya Forest were present around you, as well as the sound of a waterfall. Your brain was lagging behind as you woke, still groggy from such a deep slumber.
You were pressed against something solid and warm and breathing, and when you opened your eyes, you almost jumped from your skin.
Tignnari was laying beside you, sound asleep. He was holding you in his arms, in a possessive, tender way, and it was suddenly all flooding back to you. The pollen. That damn pollen.
Your brain finally caught up, and you remembered. You expected you should be sore, but you weren’t. You felt more satisfied than you ever had before, completely rejuvenated. You lifted your head to look over at the curtain of flowers, only to find that the blossoms had closed, taking the pollen’s scent with them. It had also fallen dark, the sun already setting. You’d been asleep for a while, but after that, you supposed that wasn’t surprising.
You focused back on Tignnari. He looked so peaceful in his sleep, so relaxed. Every bit of tension had been drained away, leaving him looking soft and gentle. You reached a hand up to cup his cheek before you could stop yourself, and he started you when he leaned into your touch.
“Hello,” he said, voice still thick with sleep, and you felt your cheeks beginning to warm.
“Hi.”
And there was your anxiety. What if Tighnari thought that what you’d just done together was a mistake? Things surely wouldn’t be the same after that, you knew that much. He couldn’t just fuck your brains out and then act like nothing happened. That wasn’t how Tighnari was.
But then, he was leaning in to kiss you, and every single doubt was expelled from your mind. It was a soft, gentle kiss, full of tender emotions and care, and it made your heart stutter in your chest.
“Was I too rough with you?” He asked after pulling away, and you shook your head.
“No. It was… it was good.”
Tignnari raised his eyebrows. “Just ‘good?’”
You blanched. “N-no, it was more than good. It was amazing.”
A soft, tender chuckle. “I was only teasing you. You were amazing, too.”
A few moments of comfortable silence passed before he spoke again. “That wasn’t how I imagined that happening for the first time,” he said, a laugh in his voice, and you turned to look at him, trying not to show the surprise on your face.
From the way he was smiling, soft and affectionate, you’d failed on that front.
“I fell in love with you quite a while ago,” he said, “I thought I’d been clear in my advances, but maybe not. I care for you very deeply, though. If you don’t feel the same, I—”
You cut him off, scoffing derisively at the sheer absurdity of that statement, with a kiss. He held you to him, cradling your face in his hands, until you both ran out of air.
“There’s my answer, then,” he said with a smile. You answered him with another quick kiss.
“I love you, too,” you said, “I thought you didn’t feel the same.”
Tighnari snorted, eyes glittering with mirth. “I suppose we’re both a little dense, then.”
You sat up, stretching your arms over your head. “We should wash up. And head back. It’s gotten late. We’re probably missed.”
Tighnari sighed, sitting up beside you. “As much as I’d rather stay here with you a while longer, you’re most likely correct. Collei is probably beside herself with worry.”
You stood on unsteady feet, and Tighnari followed you to the clear pool. The two of you rinsed your bodies off until you felt sufficiently clean before redressing. You were careful to make sure your sample jars were well sealed before you picked up your rucksack, shrugging it onto your back.
“Ready?” Tignnari asked, and you decided he looked lovely in the first rays of moonlight. You smiled at him, taking his outstretched hand in yours and squeezing.
“Yeah.”
Hand in hand, you walked back to Gandharva Ville, basking in the natural symphony of the forest.
Fin.
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yourmidnightlover · 1 year
Text
experimental
pairing: xavier thorpe x fem!reader
summary: due to an influx of female students, you are roomed with xavier thorpe as a sort of experiment. what happens when you become plagued with a frightening nightmare?
warnings: kinda enemies to sorta lovers, cuddling bc duh, there are some things that aren't answered or brought back up so i guess there's a possibility for a part 2 that gets... intimate??
a/n: it’s a cliche and i’m a sucker for it. we're gonna pretend weems never died bc that was a disgrace.
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when you found out you would be paired with a guy you thought maybe that meant more storage space for yourself, maybe even you’d get some nice eye candy to look at. but nope. you got xavier thorpe. respectively, he is nice to look at, but he’s also a total jerk.
it started when you first got to nevermore a year ago, before the murders happened. you had been partnered with him on a few projects and he consistently ignored you when you tried to spark a conversation. each opinion you asked him for, he always gave you the shortest answer possible.
you don't think he knows of your involvement with the hyde. you knew of his involvements and interactions, the accusations. you were best friends with enid before wednesday came along. admiring the way wednesday and enid had some sort of magnetic connection, you gave them some space for whatever they had.
what you didn't expect was for her to call for your help the night of the attack. with your ability to manipulate nature, you would be quite a big help in a forest. neither you nor enid could anticipate the ricochet of a tree ripped from its roots being thrown at enid. luckily, you got there in time to knock enid out of the way. unfortunately that meant that you got hit by the tree, rendering you unconscious and in a coma for weeks until weems announced the early ending of the semester.
that night still haunts you in dreams, somtimes while you're still awake when it's been a long day.
regardless, you thought he was petty and maybe just a douche but what tipped you over the edge was when you heard him making fun of you with a few of his friends.
“she just keeps trying to talk to me!” there was no emotion other than frustration that you could detect in his voice. the people surrounding him began laughing. “is it not completely obvious as to why i’ve been ignoring her?” you heard the venom in his scoff, and you became happy his back was turned to you, sure that the look on his face was nothing but smug and smiley.
“dude, you’re screwed,” another person piped in with a laugh. you had heard enough. you swiftly walked away, sure not to disturb anything so you wouldn’t grab any attention.
as a result, you treated him as he first treated you. you gave him attitude, short answers, and on occasion some nasty looks.
when you saw xavier thorpe’s unwelcoming face as weems led you to your new room, you were beyond disappointed. you could tell he was too as his eyes widened before his brows rose in an obvious look of discomfort.
“welcome to your new home for the next semester, ms. y/l/n,” she pat your shoulder before leaving abruptly, allowing you to settle into the room.
“look,” you sighed as you heard her heels step down the hall. “i know this’ll be more than difficult for the both of us, so let’s just stay out of each others way as much as possible?”
he rose his hands in defense before nodding, “whatever you want,” he pressed his lips into a fine line.
you rolled your eyes before plopping your bags down beside the bed, letting yourself lay down on it. you could get through this. sure, you wouldn’t have a safe place to go to when you needed it. you wouldn’t have a quiet place to do homework. but you had a place to sleep and to shower and that was fine.
within a couple of weeks, you had made a schedule. you took into consideration his tendency to sleep in and stay out late. in spite of his best efforts, you did know about the art shed.
everyone knows he loves to draw and he doesn’t do it as often in his own room nor in an art room. sometimes he wouldn’t even come back at night, which meant he had to have another place to sleep.
one day, you may have gotten a bit worried as to where he was and simply watched which way he went into the woods. after searching for a short amount of time, you found the shed.
bathroom time:
AM
6:00-7:00 ~ y/n
7:00-8:00 ~ xavier
PM
7:00-8:00 ~ y/n
8:00-whenever ~ xavier
you proudly posted the schedule on the window where he often tapes up a few of his pieces, that way he was sure to see it. it wasn't you trying to be snooty and righteous, it was merely just so you could avoid any awkward interactions.
"seriously?" he scoffed late at night, or more in the morning. you sat up in your bed with a roan, making a noise to ask what he was talking about. "you made a fucking bathroom schedule?"
"it's-it's," you took a sip of water that sat by your bed before rubbing your eyes and checking the clock. 3:53. "it's just so we don't accidentally walk in while the other is showering and shit. basically, i can shower from those times and you can do the same."
"so you just want to dictate my life now?" he scoffed as you heard the rustling of clothes, probably his jacket being discarded.
"no, thorpe," you sighed as you threw your head back on the bed. this boy just wasn't getting it. "look, i took into consideration the fact that you like to sleep in. classes start at 8, so you can shower at 7:30 or whenever because you never wake up earlier than that," you sat back up once more and threw your blanket off of you. "and you stay out all night at that art shed of yours, which is fine! but since you're not even in here at 7 i figured it would be fine to just say that the bathroom is reserved during that time, alright?" you were angry now. it's been a while since you've gotten enough sleep, or uninterrupted sleep. and now he's ruined it.
"i didn't know you thought about that," you were able to make out his figure sitting down on the bed. "sorry," he said it so quietly it was almost as if he didn't want you to hear.
"just turn on the light," you instructed him. "i'm not gonna get any sleep tonight anyway," you huffed before grabbing a book from your nightstand, flipping your lamp on to illuminate the room.
"look, i am sorry," he turned towards you with a soft face. "i know how hard it can be to actually get a good nights' sleep," when you made eye contact you didn't see a face of pity, but of understanding.
"it's fine," you turned to your bookmarked page and began reading, although you weren't really taking in any of the words on the page.
"i uhm-i visited you," he added as he now walked over to his desk, rummaging through his sketchbook. you looked up at him with a questioning face. "when you were hospitalized after everything. enid did too, but i just wanted to make sure that someone was there when you woke up."
"you weren't," you shook your head, your focus on the book now dead. "you weren't there when i woke up. nobody was there."
"i went to get something to eat," you heard the smile on his face. "it's so stupid. i missed you waking up because of food. but you hadn't woken up in weeks and nobody knew when you would. i figured i'd grab something and come back and just keep drawing or something while you sleep. but you were awake."
"i didn't think anyone really cared," you shrugged, looking down where your book lay closed.
"i'm sorry you were alone when you woke up, nobody should have to go through that," when you looked back up, he was at the foot of your bed with a sheet of paper. "this is one of the many drawings i made when you were asleep. you should have it."
it was one of you in a coma, but instead of a hospital bed you were in a field of flowers. the nose cannula was replaced with vines, flowers growing from each tendril. you even had a bouquet of flowers in your hand, a crown of them on your head. you didn't even look like you were dying, or close to it. you looked ethereal.
"wow."
"if it's too much, i-"
"no, no," you interrupted with a smile growing on your face. "i-i don't think i would have ever described myself as beautiful, but somehow that's the only word that comes to my mind when looking at this. thank you."
"thank you," he grasped the end of your bedframe before walking back to his own. "i think i'm gonna shower, keeping with the schedule and all."
you nodded, "alright," you were glad he walked away. he couldn't see the tears form or fall from your eyes.
-
you never went to sleep that night. you set the drawing beside your bed and attempted to continue your book, even when xavier got out of the shower. the last thing you wanted was to start to even remotely like the guy you've sworn to hate. if you can't protect your mind, all you can protect is your dignity at this point.
now, three weeks later, everything is going rather smoothly. the bathroom schedule is being kept and respected, your grades are looking good, no nightmares. the thing with your nightmares is that the longer you don't have one, the worse the next one might be. last time you went four weeks without a nightmare, you woke up screaming in a hot sweat. it had now been around six.
not even to mention the horror that would happen if xavier were actually in the room when it happened. you would be humiliated. he would probably yell it to the whole school, how scared you are.
you had been readying yourself. now supplied with essential oils, doing yoga, meditation, and many other fail-safes, you thought you were almost exempt from any sort of nightmare creeping up on you.
another thing you had started doing to help calm yourself was to go on runs. through a distinct path in the woods, the smell of pine and slight floral would calm you.
though, this run felt different. at a certain point, your body felt rigid. the stiffness in your muscles told you something was off on this run. the crunching of the leaves felt less like a welcome home and more like a warning.
after feeling like you were being followed, you turned around to see xavier walking out of his shed. you hadn't realized you were out that far. you stopped abruptly, laughing at yourself for being so afraid.
"god, you scraed me, thorpe," you held your hand over your heart as you took a deep breath.
"oh, sorry," he smiled as he made his way over to you. "what're you doing out here? i thought you'd be in the shower by now."
"wanted to clear my head, so... went on a run," he nodded in understanding. "you planning on coming back to the room to sleep tonight?"
"i guess we'll see," he smiled as he took a step closer to you. his hands found your waist, holding you softly as if you were fragile. maybe you were.
"i guess so," your arms were thrown over his shoulders as he began to lean down, his lips almost connecting with yours before you heard something behind him.
you stopped in the motions, looking behind him to see the hyde making angry steps towards you. you pushed xavier to the side and told him to run. as stupid as guys are, he decided to look behind him to see what was happening.
"xavier, go!" you urged him as you threw a gust of wind towards te hyde, one that would normally knock an army over. "it's not safe!"
"i'm not leaving you!" he stood by your side as the hyde began to launch objects towards you. he had terrible aim.
then, the moment came. a tree that had been uprooted, that would have knocked the hyde down, was now being hurtled your way. with the way it was travelling, it would hit you dead center.
xavier got in front of you, holding your shoulders, "you're alright, y/n! i'm here!"
"xavier!" your body jolted upwards in a panic, your limbs shaking.
when you finally regained your vision, you were met with a frantic xavier. his eyes were looking at you panicked, his hands cradling your waist and face.
"hey, you're okay," he was holding you so soft. you felt safe. "i'm right here, y/n," you realized you were sitting in your bed, him sitting where your legs weren't tangled.
you didn't realize the hot tears trailing down your face until xavier wiped them for you, "you were... you were gonna die. you stood in front of the-in front of me and it was-and we were," he guided your face into his neck as he brought you into a hug.
"it was a nightmare; you're safe now," he pressed a kiss to your hairline as you sobbed into his chest. arms wrapping around his middle, his own arms tightened on your body to make you feel more secure.
you sat there until the sobs subsided. xavier's hands began to trace your back. at some point, your legs became wrapped around his body with you in his lap. it wasn't in a sexual way. it was in a comforting, needing to be near to him kind of moment.
his smell was oddly comforting. it was a mix of the woods he was always in, paint, and sage. you were scared to close your eyes again, to see him being killed. maybe spending so much time with him has made you a bit fond of the guy. maybe more than fond...
"i'm scared, xavier," you sighed into his chest, clutching tighter to his shirt.
"i know you are," he pulled back to look at your disheveled state. "you wanna try to sleep together? i mean like-like in my bed with me. not like sleep together with like... yea. i wouldn't take advantage of you like that. i'm gonna shut up now," a blush washed over his face, turning it as red as you could see in the dim light.
"i would like to," you nodded as a smile creeped up on your face. "if that's alright?"
"of course, of course," his hands raked through your hair, smoothing it down from a probably incredibly messy state. "here, hold on tight," he gripped your thighs as he rose to his feet, walking over to his bedand sitting down.
you rolled over to the side of him and let him get underneath the covers before you followed suit. "can i-can we like... cuddle?"
"why else would i carry you all the way over here?" he opened his arms for you to roll into. you rested your head on his chest, your hands wrapping around his middle once again as his went around your shoulders.
you waited a beat before you fell asleep before admitting, "i think i like you," almost immediately succumbing to the frightful state of sleep
xavier waited until he heard your breath even out, "i've always liked you."
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