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#I do have ideas on how they got their injuries but I didn’t feel like they fit here
chaos-in-deepspace · 3 days
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LNDS: Hospital Trip | Fluff
Listen...this was supposed to be a crack fic. Apparently when I write long form fics I can't help but take it seriously. So this is romantic comedy now. It's fluff. I'm not a Zayne girlie but damn do I adore him...I might be a Zayne girlie. And a Rafayel girlie. And a Xavier girlie...I'm a whore.
Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. Warnings: Crack treated seriously, But also is this really crack anymore?, Romance mixed with comedy, flirting, Blood, Leg injuries, stitches, shots (the not fun kind) Synopsis: You had been enjoying your day when a small incident led you to the hospital. Thankfully your beloved boyfriend is taking care of you, but he does demand an explanation at to how you got injured...something you'd rather he not know. Word Count: 4,159
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Zayne
Hospital Trip | Zayne x Reader
You let out an unamused huff as you leaned against the back of the hospital bed, looking off in the distance. Your leg was on fire at the moment and you weren’t exactly happy to be in the hospital. Thankfully Yvonne had been sweet enough to allow you to see Dr. Zayne about your injury (even though she insisted that Dr. Greyson was available immediately and Zayne was finishing up a surgery, you didn’t care.)
You perked up as you heard the door open, smiling the moment you saw Zayne. You weren’t even sure if he was aware that you’d be his patient as Yvonne didn’t bother getting you checked in. He looks up from the paperwork in his hands, seeing that you were sitting on his examination table with a dopey grin.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He said, his voice soft as he adjusted his glasses. He clearly hadn’t noticed that something was amiss as you shifted on the table.
“Well, you see…” You said, shifting more to show the inner part of your thigh. The thigh that happened to be getting blood on his examination table. The way you were sitting had helped it not pool too much, and the nurse that helped you in the room did place a small tourniquet around your leg (although in all honesty it wasn’t that bad).
Zayne paused at seeing the injury, looking at you and then back at your bloody thigh. His lips pressed together as he nodded in disappointment, realizing that you had probably given some nurses hell as they tried helping you and you refused. The hospital was used to your antics, especially when it came to your doctor. Unless you were dying, you insisted on seeing Zayne for everything.
He approached you, placing a hand over a section that didn’t have blood on it. You were grateful to be wearing shorts today so you didn’t have to take off your pants for this…although the thought of waiting for Zayne in his office in only your underwear was an amusing thought. An idea for another day.
The feel of his cold hand had you instinctually opening your legs up more for the man. He looked back up at your face and you couldn’t help but wiggle your eyebrows suggestively at him.
“Is there a reason this hasn’t been treated yet? How long have you been here?” He asked, finally taking his hand away from you.
“Um, maybe ten minutes? I told them it wasn’t that bad and I’d wait for you.” You told him and he shot you a look. He sighed, going over to see that the nurses had already gotten him a tray of items he’d be needing.
You wouldn’t lie, you had gotten nervous when you saw the nurse wheeling the tray in and seeing it had items for stitches. You really didn’t think your injury was that bad. Granted you couldn’t feel your leg at the moment, but that's besides the point.
“If your leg is in this condition, you should’ve allowed another doctor to tend to it.” Zayne scolded, walking over to the sink and washing his hands.
You hummed before smirking, “Well I figured you wouldn’t like having one of your coworkers between my thighs, since you are the jealous type.” You teased him. Zayne shot you a small glare, but you knew he wouldn’t stay mad for long.
“Leave the suggestive comments please. There is nothing sexual about a doctor tending to their patients.” He said, pausing and letting out another long sigh. You wondered what was causing him so much grief since you saw a flash of something in his eyes as he remembered something, “I need you to take your shorts off.”
You barked out a laugh, “Nothing sexual my ass.” you said, going to unbutton your shorts, “I’m surprised you’re letting me take them off, you’re always so eager to be the one doing it back home.” 
“I said to leave the comments.” He said, placing gloves onto his hands as he approached you on the table.
“I can’t help it when you’re this easy to tease.” You winked before looking at the supplies he had been given, “So you gonna numb me up before you sew thread into my thigh?”
“I don’t know, should I be numbing you? If you have the energy to flirt, the pain must not be that bad.” He said, watching as you shucked your shorts off and placed them next to you on the bed. “Now might I be enlightened as to how this happened in the first place? If I’m not mistaken, today was your day off.”
You made a small, pained noise in the back of your throat as you thought back to what you had done. Nope. Absolutely not. He didn’t really need to know what had happened, did he?
“I tripped.” You lied, knowing he wouldn’t buy it for even a second. You’d rather tell him an obvious lie then do too good of a job and have him believe you. He always ends up finding the truth eventually, and when he finds out you actually lied to him, he always gets upset and distant. So you never did it to him. You’d give him the world’s fakest lie so he could tell right away.
“I’m not asking out of curiosity. I need to know if you might’ve gotten something in your wound. I need to know as your doctor.” A shiver went down your spine at the statement. There was always a difference between your sweet, caring boyfriend Zayne, and Akso’s Chief of Surgery, Doctor Zayne Li. You, of course, adored both sides, but seeing him switch to being Doctor Zayne was always hot.
“Fine, then I assume if you’re asking as my Doctor, then you won’t be judging me when I tell you?” You said, shifting in your spot. You really didn’t want to tell him. He was the best boyfriend ever but god damn could he give your sass back ten fold.
“Sadly doctor’s are entitled to judge whomever they please, we’re just not allowed to voice it to our patients or coworkers.” He said and you huffed. 
“You’re judging me right now, aren’t you?” You finally murmured.
“Always quick to catch on.” He had the audacity to smirk as he grabbed the shot that you assumed had the lidocaine in it and waved it in place to tease you.
“Asshole…” You said under your breath. He looked at you with his eyebrow raised.
“What was that, you don’t want to be numbed?” He asked and a small, pathetic whine came from you.
“I mean my beloved boyfriend who is so kind, caring, and compassionate. The boyfriend who will do anything to keep me out of harm's way and fixes me up when I have booboos in the nicest way possible.” You said, pressing your hands together and smiling at him.
He looked like he wanted to roll his eyes at your praise and you finally relaxed a bit, “I’m still waiting to find out what happened.” He reminded you.
"Okay, where to begin…” You said, tapping your lower lip, “Well I woke up a bit later than usual since I didn’t have work today. I went to the kitchen to get some breakfast and was going through the freezer when I noticed we didn’t have any ice cream left!” You began and Zayne gave you an unamused look.
At this point, Zayne was grabbing the alcohol wipes to begin cleaning off the blood so he could see the actual damage, “I don’t need a play by play of your day, darling, I need to know how you injured yourself.”
You chuckled at the pet name and Zayne smiled ever so slightly at the happy wiggle you did on the table, “Okay, but it’s all super important information.” You chided with a small waggle of your finger, “So I decided the best course of action would be to run down to the store and go buy some in case we wanted some ice cream tonight. So I got dressed and walked down to the corner store.”
“Did you actually manage to get any?” He asked and your smile fell.
“Well…of course I did. At first. I got the ice cream and it was all bagged up. I left the store after thanking this sweet new cashier, her name is Tamara by the way.” You said with a wave of your hand, “Then out of nowhere I heard this sweet little chirping and saw a baby bird was on the ground. Clearly he had fallen, but thankfully it had been in a bed of soft flowers.” You explained.
You watched as Zayne paused, thinking about what you said and shook his head, “Sit correctly please, I need to clean your wound.” He said, pushing your legs to a better position.
“Okay so clearly you know the corner store I’m talking about, ya? The one right by your apartment?” You asked.
“Our apartment? Yes, I recall. It’s the one that always has a sign outside with those drawings to draw people in on the newest products.” He said and you paused before giggling again at him calling it our apartment. You'd never get tired of that since you had only been living together for a short while.
“Then you know how there’s some construction going on right next to it. There’s that metal fence they put up to keep people out and there’s a tree right on the other side.” You said and Zayne nodded, “Well the nest was in that tree.”
“Of course, why wouldn’t it be in an easier to reach location?” He sarcastically murmured to himself. It was just loud enough for you to pick up, and you went to kick him before freezing at realizing it was your bad leg. The same leg that earlier you couldn’t feel, but when you made sharp movements apparently it was all you could feel.
“Well I couldn’t just leave the poor thing there to die, so I scooped it up and put it into my jacket pocket.” You said and Zayne made note that you didn’t seem to have a coat anymore. How curious.
You flinched away as Zayne began cleaning the wound, the alcohol burning but he held your leg in place as he continued dabbing at it. 
You cleared your throat, trying to not think about the sting, “So I managed to climb the fence without any issues thankfully. There were also no construction workers so I was all by my lonesome in my quest to put this birdie back in its nest.”
Zayne paused as he finished cleaning the wound, looking up at you from behind his glasses. You don’t know why you felt small under his gaze at the moment, especially since he was technically underneath you.
“Then I started to climb that tree to put the birdie back into its home. It wasn’t very high up in the tree thankfully, so it was easy enough to place him there.” You explained, happy about your accomplishment.
“I’m very proud that you managed to save a single chick by doing two very reckless things.” It was sarcastic as all hell, but you’d take the praise when you could get it.
“Thanks babe.” You said and he shook his head.
“This doesn’t explain how you ended up with a gash on your thigh.” He said and looked down at your legs, “Or why your legs have dirt on them…and probably future bruises forming.”
“Well, so the nest was home to an eagle! Can you believe it? It was very majestic looking as it began flying back to its babies.” You said, then you let out another hiss as he swiped a disinfectant of some kind over your wound. As if the alcohol wasn’t enough…
“Don’t mind me, continue your story.” He said and you got a sense he was almost amused now.
“Well apparently mama eagle wasn’t happy I was spending time with the babies because she swooped in to attack me. Obviously my natural reaction to an eagle coming for my throat was to flinch back. Sadly it caused me to fall from the tree and as I fell, I managed to catch my leg on a piece of the fence that was jutting out…thus ending in my giant gash and forming bruises.” You finally confessed.
You felt like an idiot, but honestly how were you supposed to know that would happen? You just wanted to save a baby chick that had fallen. Then BOOM! Eagle attack. To make matters worse you had fallen right on your ice cream and the concoction splattered all over your white jacket (alongside your blood since you used your jacket in an attempt to stop the bleeding) so you ended up just tossing them both away in shame.
You watched Zayne grab the needle that had the lidocaine in it and flicked it a few times to get the air pockets out, “And how, pray tell, did you get to the hospital? If the ambulance brought you in, you would’ve been treated in the ER right away. Since we’re having this conversation, it’s clear you didn’t make the right decision.”
“An ambulance would’ve been overkill.” You said and the look Zayne gave you said otherwise, “I just walked here. It’s only a few miles and the day was beautiful.”
Zayne could feel his eye begin to twitch at your lackadaisical response, “You walked miles with an injured leg that needed stitches. Did nobody try to stop you when they saw you trailing blood everywhere?” Oh he was a bit upset by this.
“Well people on the highway are normally like super busy and not looking at random people walking on the side of the road.” You said and Zayne seemed to be trying really hard to keep his cool at the moment. He wanted to properly scold you and tell you how stupid you had been; his worry wanting to turn to anger, but he held himself back. He didn’t want to lash out with emotions when he was trying to treat you as a patient. 
“Of course, you just casually walked on the side of a busy highway where a car might’ve hit you.” He couldn’t help but say in almost disbelief at the lack of self awareness. How he managed to fall for you was a mystery. He did absolutely adore you, but moments like this would only cause his hair to gray faster.
Zayne took the shot, carefully placing it on the edge of your gash and began injecting you with the medication. You let out a hiss of pain, the sensation being horribly uncomfortable. You held as still as you could though, wanting to tear up a bit from how bad it stung going in and watching as he moved it around wasn't helping.
“Are you making it hurt a lot because you’re mad at me?” Your voice came out in a dejected whine. Zayne had just pulled back the needle when he looked at you. He gave you a tired smile, his hand going to rub at the non-injured area of your leg.
“I apologize for the discomfort, but you should know that no matter how upset I am with you, I would never do something to cause you intentional pain like that.” He said, his hand feeling cool against your hot skin. It helped numb the pain, and as the medication slowly began working the entire area was numb to…everything.
You were surprised by how fast it worked, and even more surprised by how fast Zayne worked. He was already getting ready to stitch your leg up and you looked over at him with a cheeky grin.
“If you’re gonna sew up my leg, can you make a heart shaped design for me?” You teasingly asked.
“I’m a doctor, not a seamstress.” He said as you watched him grab the threaded needle and pressed it against your skin. As soon as it was about to go into your leg, you looked away. There was no way you’d be fine with watching him put a needle through your body.
It doesn’t take long for him to finish with the stitches, leaning back in his chair to check it over. You look down as well, a bit off put by stitches but at least it was going to heal properly.
Zayne began cleaning the wound and then grabbed the gauze, tapping your thigh to lift up as he wrapped it carefully. Once it was all wrapped up (sadly without a neat little bow like you requested) Zayne ran a finger gently over it.
“Does that feel better, darling?” he asked and you smiled, loving the nickname and nodding.
“Yes sir, feels a million times better…but I also can’t feel it at all so that might be why.”
“It’ll most likely feel sore and ache for the next few days. I’ll make sure to pick you up some painkillers from the pharmacy before we head home.” He said, going to take off his gloves and move the tray away from you.
“Thank you, doctor.” You finally said. Despite all your teasing, you really were happy he was the one treating you. You always felt the most comfortable when he was in charge of your care, after all.
Zayne looked over at you, adjusting his glasses on his nose and tilting his head, “Don’t think you’re off the hook. I haven’t forgotten what you did.” He said and you huffed.
“Now why did you have to say that?” You murmured, watching as he went over to his desk. He began typing things up on his computer, looking through some files it seemed. Once he saw what he needed, he clicked his tongue.
“We can discuss your actions when we get home.” he said, looking you over, “For now I’ll need you to wait here. I need to grab some things. It seems you’re due for a tetanus shot, and with your most recent endeavor of getting cut on a metal fence, I think now is the best time for it.”
“Wait…a shot?” You groaned, “Oh you’re mad, mad.” The accusation fell on deaf ears as he was already heading out the door. 
With another huff, you crossed your arms and looked at the clock. After only five minutes you decided you had enough and got on wobbly feet. You could barely feel your thigh still so it made it awkward, feeling almost like you were walking with a partially dead leg.
Still, you limped with purpose and eventually got to Zayne’s large desk. You didn’t care much for all the paperwork; most of it was medical jargon that went well over your head. No, you were curious about if he kept some of your gifts.
You opened up one of the drawers, smiling as you saw a sticky pad with little pears on it being the first thing in sight. You also saw a handful of pens that doubled as flowers. You felt all warm and fuzzy seeing how the items were clearly well used. 
Then you heard the door open.
You froze in place, staring at Zayne who was carrying a few items. You two made eye contact for a moment and he only sighed, shaking his head. It wasn’t like you could run away from him. You watched him close the door behind him and it clicked as it locked.
He walked over to you, placing the shot down on his surprisingly clean desk. He towered over you in that moment, making you feel small yet again. He went over, lifting you gently as he paid attention to your newly wrapped leg.
Your ass met the cool wood of his desk as he sat you on top of it, “Can’t you behave for five minutes?” He asked and you looked away to avoid eye contact.
“I wanted to see where you kept the candy…” You murmured, as it was half true. You didn’t want to admit you were checking to make sure he didn’t toss out your little gifts.
“Next drawer over.” He said and you looked over to see his hand grazing the edge of the desk, opening the drawer and grabbing the candy, “However only good patients get it. If you behave for your shot, I’ll give you a piece.”
You knew him damn well, he’d give you a mint no matter what happened. He was always a sucker for spoiling you, even when you were acting up and being a total brat.
“Alright, Dr. Zayne. I’ll be good.” You huffed, looking at the delicately wrapped mint in his hand. He placed it next to you, then went to grab his supplies. You watched patiently as he cleaned an area on your good thigh then grabbed the needle.
Once again, you can’t look at the needle as it goes into you. However, this time the feeling was so much worse. You cursed under your breath, your hands going to Zayne’s shoulders to grip onto for some stability. Thankfully Zayne didn’t falter as he finished up, taking the needle out and placing it next to you.
His gloves hand goes to rub soothing circles over the area in apology, before he grabs a plaster and places it on top where a small bead of blood was already trying to come out of.
“Are you alright?” He asked finally and you grumbled under your breath.
“Ya…” Your hands tightened on his shoulders, not wanting him to leave, but also being a bit upset at all the pain you had endured because of your antics. It wasn’t fair, why couldn’t you do stupid things without consequences?
One of Zayne’s hands cupped your chin, forcing your face up to look up at him, “You need to be more careful in the future, understood? You got off lucky with only a few stitches this time.”
A small whine comes from the back of your throat, your cheeks reddening at his proximity. Your eyes couldn’t help but glance down at his lips for a second before going back to his eyes.
It didn’t go unnoticed by Zayne as he leaned down, giving you a short and sweet kiss before parting. His lips found your cheek next, then your other, then finally your forehead. He leaned his forehead against your own as he looked at you.
“Let me finish up some of my paperwork then I’ll take you home. I don’t need you walking on this leg right now.” He said and you pouted. Who knew how long it would take for him to do all that paperwork, “I promise it won’t take long.”
“Fine…but do I get a reward when we get home for being so good?” It didn’t go unnoticed by you that Zayne was practically between your legs as he leaned over you. Your pants were still on the table across the room, and you desperately wanted him to just kiss you properly this time. You wanted to be gasping for air by the time he parted from you.
Zayne paused, noticing the current predicament before smirking. His hand left your chin, instead going to box you between his desk and body. He leaned closer, pressing his lips near your ear.
“You want to know what I’m going to do to you later?”
You shivered at his suddenly husky voice, your hands grasping onto the lapels of his lab coat. You bit your lip, feeling suddenly hot in your own skin.
“I’m going to have you lay in bed and make you drink plenty of water and rest while your leg heals.” He whispered in your ear.
You let out an annoyed groan as his body left your own, standing at full height as he went to begin cleaning. “That wasn’t sexy at all.” You complained.
“Falling from a tree and gashing your leg open is also rather…unsexy.” He said and you groaned, a small smile spreading on your lips. Touché Zayne, touché.
“Okay can we at least stop by and get ice cream on the way back, then cuddle on the couch while we watch a movie tonight? I think I deserve extra cuddles for the pain I’ve had to endure.” You said with a small pout.
“I find those terms to be rather agreeable. It’s a date.” He settled on. You giggled as he picked you up from his desk and took you back to the examination table. He placed you on a clean spot and handed you your pants.
Sometimes dating a doctor has its perks.
Sadly dating a spiteful doctor had plenty of downsides as you later learned that night. You, curled up against his chest, as he puts on a movie for you two to watch. A documentary…on eagles.
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the-last-quest · 17 days
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A short fic based on this post because it’s been consuming my brain
[883 words]
Nine lowered himself on the lip of the cave, his shoes connecting with the ground as quietly as he could.
He almost missed what he was looking for, the light of the full moon outside not enough to reach into all the small crevices of the cave, only a small glimmer, not fully in the shadows, giving away that something was there. That thing being the metal arm belonging to the fox that he, and everyone else, had been missing for the past few hours.
Sails hadn’t noticed him yet, the pirate curled up into himself, and for that Nine was a little relived. As he made his way further into the cave his mind raced with things to say. He knew what he wanted to say to the other, but now that he was faced with it, he had no idea how to.
He made his way closer to the other, his footsteps silent due to years of practice. Everything was going peacefully until he accidentally kicked a pebble, the noise alerting the other fox to his presence
Nine froze as he made eye contact with Sails. He thought by now he would be used to seeing reflections of himself, but this was different. It was obvious that Sails had been crying, though now the tears were dry. Along with that he looked terrified of being discovered, seeming ready to bolt at any second. It reminded Nine in when he had felt like this, when he was younger, backed into a corner with no escape. He decided then and there he never wanted to see that expression on any of his brothers again.
Nine put his hand up in front of him to show that he didn’t mean any harm, he didn’t trust himself to speak. Only a small swish of his tails before Sails curled into himself again indicated that it was okay for Nine to come closer.
As Nine sat down next to the pirate he dug into his shorts pocket. He nudged the other lightly with his shoulder, drawing attention to what he held in his hand.
A blue and white bandana.
A bandana that had led Sails to run off and hide. A bandana that had fallen off when Sails and Mangey were play fighting. A bandana that hid a jagged clipped ear.
With shaky hands Sails took the bandana from Nine. He watched as Sails held the bandana to his chest before looking back up and giving Nine a shaky smile.
He decided to use that as a chance to speak, to say something that could tell the other he knew how he felt, that he was the same. But as he opened his mouth no words came out, his brain once again failing him as he had no idea how to handle this.
Now though he had Sails’ attention, he felt like he had to do something.
Nine took a deep breath, aware of the eyes that were on him, as he started to unclasp his black glove. He paused and squeezed his eyes, unwilling to look at his own paw as he removed his glove. It was silent for a moment, long enough for Nine to begin to regret what he did, until he heard a small, sharp inhale when Sails realized what Nine was showing him, the scars from being declawed.
Nine turned away from his paw before he opened his eyes again. He was met with Sails looking straight at him. This time though Nine couldn’t read his expression, a mixture of sadness and pity, but also an understanding.
He didn’t know what to think until Sails let out a small noise. It was a mixture between a laugh and a sob. Nine stared at Sails as the other fox devolved into laughter. Nine doesn’t know why but he joined in the laughter.
It felt like a weight was lifted. Everything was out in the open now and there was nothing to hide. The culmination of the stress and the shame, and most importantly the relief of not being seen as different tipped them over the edge.
It was a while until the laughter stopped. Nine leaned back again the stone wall of the cave, wiping away tears. He felt a weight drop onto his shoulder. Sails was looking up at him, a smug smile on his tear stained face. Nine rolled his eyes at the other’s antics but made no attempt to push him off, instead leaning his head to rest on top of Sails’.
They didn’t say anything. No long winded discussions on how they got their scars. No unpacking why they felt to cover them up. Just a mutual understanding that both of them had faced something that irreparably changed them physically, something that still affects how they view themselves.
Soon Nine would have to call in, letting the others know that they were safe. Right now though he could wait. Sure it wasn’t the most comfortable situation, he could feel Sails’ elbow digging into his side, and he couldn’t say he was totally happy, but he did feel somewhat content and based on the quiet purr Sails had started to let out he did too. It wouldn’t hurt that much to stay in this moment for a little longer.
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ellecdc · 3 months
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Part two of feisty slytherin reader where it’s just the boys being like kinda in love with reader and everything you can pick how reader responds
this ended up taking me way longer to complete than I thought it would! it also ended up way longer than usual. here's the lead up to our infamous poly!marauders x feisty!slytherin reader!!! 🫶
poly!marauders x feisty, fem slytherin!reader CW: head injury - not graphic or detailed but mentions blood.
“Okay Moony, if you’re going to help us win over Y/N, you should know she does not like dramatic public displays of appreciation.” James said sagely as he walked into their shared dorm room.
Remus spared Sirius a confused look from his seat in the chair, but from the way James was currently rubbing his arm Sirius had a pretty good idea of what just took place.
“Yeah, erm, I don’t think you have to worry about that with me, bubs. Thanks for the heads up though.” Remus added bemusedly.
“Let me guess.” Sirius taunted, rolling over onto his stomach so that he faced James. “The charmed roses following her around the halls wasn’t a hit?”
“No, but she did...” He sulked, pulling his uniform shirt off to expose a small albeit quite red welt on his upper arm.
“Awe, poor Jamie. Come here bubs.” Remus cooed at him, opening his arms to invite the boy into his lap. 
James obliged all too willingly and snuggled up to the werewolf like he was a small toddler and not a giant beefy man-baby. 
“Don’t mollify him when he’s out here botching our grand plans to woo the girl of our dreams.” Sirius said, causing Remus to roll his eyes and James to scoff indignantly.
“Well at least I’m working on it! What are you doing to woo her?” James retaliated.
Sirius offered him a wolfish grin. “Oh, I’ve got a little trick up my sleeve.”
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You had to get out of the castle. You could still feel everyone’s eyes on you, ogling you like you were some kind of freakshow. 
You don’t know what kind of game those Gryffindor’s were trying to play, but you were not about to be the butt of whatever sodding joke this was.
Roses, really? Charmed to follow you around the castle as Potter smirked from the sidelines. Did he have any idea how humiliating that was?
       So, yeah. You walloped him. In the arm. With your fist. Hard. But what else were you supposed to do!? You’d confronted him and demanded that he end the charm and all he said was ‘you look so cute when your nose scrunches up like that’.
He and Black have always been a bother – seemingly having taken some kind of interest in you for whatever reason. Lupin had always been more reasonable; one would think that he’d have evened those two out during their relationship, but apparently that was an impossible task. You supposed it was because he was all but one man.
But lately, even he was starting to stare at you a little too long, smile a little too softly, find too many excuses to be in your vicinity. It was infuriating.
So, you were outside.
It was nice outside. 
Well, it was nice enough outside. 
You packed yourself some snacks in your book bag, two blankets and an extra jumper to go sit by the Black Lake. You figured you should be able to enjoy some peace and quiet out here on your own.
You unfolded one of the blankets to lay onto the ground before sitting on it and then laid the second blanket over your lap. You could hear other students on the grounds in the distance and the soothing sound of the water lapping gently against the shore. 
As luck would have it, a certain dog with long-black hair would set out to disrupt that.
“What are you doing here?” You asked the dog as it approached you calmly. You wondered for a moment if you should be scared before it stopped at the edge of your blanket to sit and tilt its head at you, his tongue falling out of his mouth haphazardly. 
He didn’t look too scary, ignoring his size.
You craned your neck to look around, checking if perhaps he was here with someone, but it appeared that you were, in fact, alone on this side of the lake.
You felt something cold and wet nudge your pinkie, and you turned to see that the dog had laid down beside you with his head between his paws, nose next to your hand.
“If I pet you, are you going to bite me?” You asked him. He answered by nudging your hand again and offering it a little lick.
“You better not have fleas.” You muttered as you scratched behind the dog’s ears. You would have sworn he had furrowed his eyebrows at your comment if dogs could do such a thing. You noticed then that the dog had startling silver-blue eyes. 
“Where are your people?” You asked, glad no one was around to see you conversing with a dog. He answered you by rolling over for belly rubs.
You scoffed out a laugh but acquiesced. “Fine, you can stay. But I came out here for peace and quiet, ‘kay?”
The dog seemed fine with that plan and let you read through two chapters of your book, only interrupting every paragraph or so for more pets. Eventually however, it grew too cold, and you decided to pack up.
Confirming your suspicions, the dog began to follow you towards the castle. You pretended like you hadn’t noticed or perhaps just didn’t care until you were near the greenhouses.
“For future reference, Black,” you said, turning to the dog who seemed to pause mid-step as you considered him. “I really am more of a cat person.” You smirked, turning to walk back to the castle alone.
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“Here, let me get that for you.” James said, opening the door for you rather chivalrously in Sirius’ opinion.
“I’m not a delicate flower, Potter, I can open a door.” You muttered angrily, storming past him into the classroom.
James deflated a little as he followed you in, but perked up when Remus placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
“I thought that was very sweet of you, Jamie.” He placated.
James gave him a half smile in response. “Thanks Moons.”
“I mean, what are we supposed to do? What bird doesn’t like dogs!?” Sirius grumbled, opting to ignore James’ whining. 
“Don’t call her a bird, Sirius.” Remus chided.
“Probably didn’t help you’re a big ol’ mangy mutt.” James muttered petulantly.
“Oi!” Sirius called. “That’s not what you say when Padfoot snuggles you to sleep.” 
James had the good graces to turn a little red at that.
Their conversation was interrupted (quite rudely if you asked Sirius) by Professor McGonagall as she began the instructions for today’s Transfiguration lesson: turning buttons into butterflies. 
Sirius stole a concerned glance towards James to see Remus doing the same; they were horrified to see a mischievous look adorning their boyfriend’s face.
“Prongs...” Sirius warned, whilst Remus whispered a “remember what we talked about.”
But they both knew it was too late; there was no stopping him once James set his mind to something. 
Sirius is quite sure it was the fourth butterfly that did you in; you seemed to consider the first a fluke, the second was annoying, the third made you suspicious, but by the fourth you’d had enough.
With little to no warning you turned and lobbed a large hard-covered tome at the group.
“I don’t know which of you tossers are behind this, but it reeks of Potter. So help me gods I will gut you and string you up to the rafters from your intestines if you don’t leave me alone!” You screeched. 
“But how else will you know I’m crazy about you?” James pouted, causing you to groan exasperatedly.
“If you’re looking for some cutesy princess who will swoon at your sodding roses and butterflies, then you’ve got the wrong witch.” You spat.
Sirius smirked. “Oh, we have exactly the right witch.”
“I swear to Circe if you don’t leave me alone, I’ll sic Barty on you.” You threatened.
Sirius and James both scoffed whilst Remus smirked. 
“Please dollface, you insult me. I’m not afraid of Junior.” Sirius taunted.
You narrowed your eyes at him menacingly before realization dawned on you. “Fine.” You said simply, giving Sirius a distinct uneasy feeling. “Perhaps I’ll tell Regulus.”
Sirius slammed his fist on the table and leaned forward. “You wouldn’t.” He seethed.
You smirked deviously. “Just try me, Black.” You sneered in response. 
Did...did Sirius have a degradation kink?
Sirius was ashamed to admit that he had to take a very cold shower after that.
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You had been sitting in the library trying to work on your Potions essay. You had felt fairly safe here seeing as the Gryffindor’s (at least the most problematic ones) had been sanctioned from using the library during quiet study hours on account of their typical foolishness.
Except one.
“Mind if I sit here?” Lupin’s lilting voice sounded from your right side before he sat down without waiting for your response. 
“Why bother asking if you were just going to sit anyways?” You grumbled. 
“Well, it was the polite thing to do.” He said, turning to face you. You held his gaze (his gaze, your glare) until he finally sighed. “I’ll leave if you want me to.”
You considered him for a moment. You couldn’t deny he was the least buffoonish out of the so-called Marauders though you’re not sure that amounted to much.
But he was quieter, kinder, softer around the edges. And he had been far more polite to you than his boyfriends.
“Are you going to flirt with me?”
One of Remus’ eyebrows (the one with the scar running through it, you noticed) raised expectantly as he considered you.
“Let me rephrase that.” You barked quickly, realizing your mistake perhaps a touch too late. “You may sit here, but if you flirt with me, I will stab you with my quill.” You punctuated your threat by blotting his hand which rested on the table with ink from the tip of your quill.
Remus smiled at the sight before returning his amber coloured gaze to yours. “Fair enough. I promise to try to restrain myself, but perhaps you ought to hold onto this hand for me just in case I slip up.” And he – the absolute sodding bastard – slid his left hand comfortably into your right.
You’d never seen someone make a move so assertively and smoothly before. There was nothing to say that any of this even affected Remus as he immediately turned his attention to his book. Was it hot in here? Your hand felt sweaty. Your throat felt tight. Your mouth was dry. Why didn’t you think to bring a bottle of water?!
“Erm,” you started, having to pause to clear your throat. “Just how am I supposed to get my work done with your hand in mine, Lupin?”
You had tried to sound threatening, but based off Remus’ smirk, you’d only managed to goad him further.
“You’re left-handed. Figure it out.” 
These boys were going to be the death of you if you didn’t end up killing them first.
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“You held her hand!?” James screeched in their dorm room that night whilst Remus smirked to himself. Sirius would make fun of James for his dramatics if he wasn’t just a pissed off about this.
“I’ve been working at this the longest out of either of you, and she lets you hold her hand?” He continued.
“She doesn’t like dogs,” Sirius grumbled, gesturing to himself, “she doesn’t like James. But the werewolf? Really. No offence Moons because I absolutely get the appeal.”
James snapped his fingers as he had a eureka moment. “I’ve got it! Remus; bite me!”
“James!” Remus scolded. 
“It’s not fair.” James muttered as he fell onto his bed in defeat. “I’d be so good to her.”
Any ire from Sirius and Remus drained at that as they both moved to join their boyfriend on his bed.
“We know, bubs.” Remus conceded. 
“We just...have to give her time. I’m sure she’ll come around, yeah? I mean, with Remus’ smooth moves, my undeniable charm, and your muscles? We’re unstoppable.” Sirius added, eliciting a smile from Remus and a gentle chuckle from James, though his usual light was diminished.
“We’ve just got to be patient, Jamie.” Remus concluded, causing James to groan.
“Patience.” He spat spitefully.
“A 'James ADHD Potter' special.” Sirius winked before kissing any further protests away from James’ lips.
“We’ve got Moony on our team now, bubs. We’re unstoppable.” He whispered, truly believing what he was saying.
If anyone could break through your hard candy-coating shell to reach the chocolate inside, it was certainly Remus Lupin.
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You’d had the lovely idea of sitting outside on one of the few sunny days that Scotland got to see this time of year. Unfortunately, it seemed that everyone else had the same idea too.
A few Hufflepuffs were playing with a charmed muggle football, kicking it back and forth between the two of them and chasing after it when it opted to fuck off on its own. You didn’t understand the objective of the game, nor did you care to.
Remus and Peter Pettigrew sat on a bench not too far off playing a game of Wizarding Chess that, from where you were sitting, looked like Remus was winning.
You got so caught up in watching Lupin’s game with Pettigrew - in the way that the tendons in his wrist and hands flexed as he moved pieces across the board, and the way that his honey blonde curls fell in front of his eyes causing him to have to blow air upwards so he could see the board - that you noticed something flying at you far too late. 
“Look out!” One of the dumb Hufflepuff’s shouted far too late as their charmed football soared into the side of your head, knocking you clean over where your head cracked painfully against a root of the tree you were sitting under.
You scrunched your eyes tight and tried to will your heart to start beating again and your lungs to cooperate, every part of your body seeming to have tensed out of instinct to protect itself.
“L/N! L/N! Come on, dove, open your eyes.” You heard a voice above you.
Why was the voice so worried? How long were your eyes closed? A gentle hand grabbed your chin and wiggled your head back and forth, causing you to hiss in pain.
“Sod...off.” You gritted through your teeth.
The voice chuckled and wiggled your chin once more. “There she is. Open your eyes for me.”
You hated being told what to do but decided to comply anyways.
You probably should have kept your eyes close because the sight made you feel dizzy for a completely different reason.
Hovering above your frame was Remus Lupin; his knees on the ground beside your elbow, one hand gripping your chin and the other gently moving hair away from your face and head.
“Atta girl.” He said with a smile.
“Get away from me.” You grumbled as you moved to sit up. Though Lupin hissed in protest, he helped you sit up nonetheless. 
“Is...is she okay?” a timid voice spoke from somewhere behind Lupin’s shoulder causing his expression to darken considerably.
“You stupid wankers are so dead.” You spat as loudly as you could manage, though in your current state – that wasn’t very loud at all.
Your message was received loud and clear, however, as the two Hufflepuffs took off in fear.
“My sentiments exactly.” Lupin muttered as he turned back to you, jaw still tense.
You snorted indelicately as you brought a hand to your head. “Please, don’t tell me you actually care about me, Lupin.”
You hissed in pain as your hand came in contact with something warm and wet and slightly sticky. You pulled your hand back in front of you to inspect, only for Lupin to grab your hand rather harshly and wipe the blood away with a handkerchief.
“Is it so impossible to believe that we could actually care for you?” He muttered quietly, eyes focused on your hand, pointedly avoiding eye contact with you. You watched as his curls bounced with each wipe of his hand against yours. You thought of his gentle hands brushing hair away from your wound moments before. You thought of him begging you to open your eyes. You thought of him being the first one at your side when you were hurt.
And you thought about Black finding ways to be with you even when you staunchly refused his company. You thought of him taking time out of his day to tell you how ‘smoking hot’ you looked that day, even though he said it every day before that, too.
And you thought about Potter who always held the door for you, saved you a seat even though you never accepted it, showered you in affection even though it was public and quite embarrassing. And you thought of the way he always had a smile to give you, even when you gave him no reason to smile at all. 
It wasn’t hard to imagine the three of them caring for anyone, quite frankly. Caring seemed to come second nature to those boys.
“No.” You admitted quietly. “It’s not impossible to believe that you could actually care. It’s just impossible to imagine why.”
He stopped rubbing at your hand and met your eye, seemingly contemplating what to say.
“Let’s get you to Madam Pomfrey.” He opted for. “Pete, let the boys know where I’ve gone when they’re finished with practice?” Lupin called over his shoulder.
“I can walk myself, Lupin.” You grumbled as he helped you up by your elbow.
“Yeah, yeah.” He grumbled back. “You’re not a delicate flower, we know.”
The two of you more or less muttered back and forth to each other the entire way to the infirmary, Lupin supporting more of your weight than he likely needed too but you didn’t feel the need (nor desire) to complain.
Madam Pomfrey was in the middle of looking after a first year Potions class who accidently set off an explosion of incorrectly brewed Cure for Boils which ultimately left each student (and Professor Slughorn) covered head to toe in painful boils.
“Mr. Lupin, if you could clean the wound for me. And Miss. L/N, drink the pain potion. Do not leave until I’ve had a chance to do a proper examination, okay?” She ordered as you positioned yourself more comfortably on the bed after she determined you weren’t about to die (or currently crying, as most of the first years were). 
You took the pain potion dutifully and placed it back on the table beside your bed before you startled at the sudden cold wet cloth on your head.
“You are not seriously doing this right now, are you?” You spat.
Remus’ eyebrows drew together as his hands continued on in their task. “You heard the matron; I’m supposed to clean it.”
“I can clean it myself, Lupin; I’ll conjure a mirror.” You argued, causing the scarred boy to scoff.
“I do what I’m told L/N, and quite frankly, the matron scares me more than you do.”
“I must be doing something wrong then.” You sighed, thinking you hadn’t said that loud enough to be heard, but a startled laugh escaped Lupin’s lips. 
“Why do you act so volatile?” He asked amusedly.
“It’s not an act.”
“I call bullshit.”
“Well, you call wrong, then, Lupin. I’m an arse and I find everyone exhausting. Deal with it.” You snarked sharply.
Lupin breathed a laugh through his nose. “Maybe we can find out what the hell your problem is over dinner sometime, then.”
Rotten bastard and his smooth talk...
“WHERE IS SHE!?” a voice echoed through the corridor just outside the entrance to the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey needn’t even look up from the boil she was currently draining of puss to know who she was about to scold.
“Mr. Potter, I will have you banned from this infirmary so fast if you raise your voice above so much as a whisper, do not try me. That goes for you too, Mr. Black.” She barked; eyes still focused on the first year’s arm in front of her.
Sure enough, a mop of curly hair, impossibly more wild than usual due to the flight on his broom, poked around the privacy curtains a second before it was joined by a fuming looking Sirius Black.
Potter’s eyes flew to where Remus’ hands were positioned on your head and your stomach lurched at what looked like tears pooling in Potter’s eyes.
“Potter...please, erm, please don’t cry?” You asked awkwardly, leaning away from Remus’ touch as you suddenly became very uncomfortable with this amount of attention.
“She’s alright, Jamie.” Remus sighed, pulling you back over to him gently by the shoulder and continuing his prodding at your wound.
“Who did it?” Sirius spat, arms crossed defensively across his chest and jaw tight as he stared hard at the wound on your head. You were horrified to admit to yourself that he was hot. You’d never really seen it before, how all the girls in your year (and other years) fawned over the long-haired boy.
But he was currently standing in front of you still adorned in his quidditch gear, hair pulled back into a low bun - though he had many fly-aways on account of his recent time in the air - his cheeks still dusted pink from the assertion, and he was currently fuming on your behalf.
Yeah...he was hot. 
“Easy.” Remus warned.
“Answer me!” Sirius spat back.
“Pads. I mean it, leave it.” Remus said with finality.
Your eyes darted nervously between the two boys currently staring each other down, but Potter’s eyes were still steadfast on you.
“Let me, Rem.” He finally said gently – the most gently you’d ever heard from the rambunctious boy as he gently moved Remus aside and took over.
“I’m okay, you know.” You offered, not liking how worked up these boys were currently over you.
“I know.” He agreed. “I just hate to see you hurt.”
“Why?”
“Why?”
“Yeah, why.” You pressed. James looked like you just asked him to calculate the distance between the galaxy of Andromeda and our solar system using the measurement of broomsticks.  
“I... I don’t want to see you hurt?”
“You want to see Snape hurt.” You countered, causing James’ face to harden.
“Snape’s a tosser.” He muttered darkly.
“I’m not any nicer than Snape.”
“See, Y/N. You’re so smart and lovely and perfect, but you are way off on that front.” James said through a laugh. “Snape is prejudiced, vindictive, and a racist blood supremist. You’re just combative.” He explained, punctuating the word combative with a gentle boop of your nose. 
You wanted to break his finger.
But that would be combative, and you would rather die than prove Potter right, so you opted to roll your eyes instead. 
“Did they even hang around to see if she fucking survived or did they just take off to avoid detention?” Sirius spat at Remus, not looking any calmer than he did when he arrived.
“They stayed.” You answered tiredly. “They took off afterwards, and not to avoid detention, but to avoid me.”
“And me.” Remus muttered quietly, looking dangerously close to going back out there to find them himself. 
“Did you threaten them?” Sirius asked severely, though you weren’t sure who exactly he had asked.
“Yes.” You and Lupin both answered exasperatedly. 
Sirius looked between the two of you before letting out a sigh. “Fine, but if I run into them, I’m hexing them into oblivion.”
“Not if I get to them first.” You growled.
Sirius’ face finally softened as he sat on the end of your bed and cautiously touched your ankle under the blankets.
“You sure you’re okay, Y/N?”
And you aren’t sure what did it. 
You weren’t sure if it was the softness you saw in Sirius that you were sure you could have never even imagined possible from a person, let alone someone related to the infamous Black family. Or if it was the eyebrows of Remus Lupin that were furrowed in concern as he dutifully watched his boyfriend finish plastering a bandage to your head, or if it was the unbelievable softness of James Potter’s touch – in complete contrast to his fast, rough, bouncing personality that you were usually subjected to.
But dammit, you felt a tear slip down your cheek.
You wiped it away quickly and nodded your head in yes.
You braced yourself for the teasing, the cooing, the dramatic displays of affection. But Sirius quickly stood and disappeared behind the curtains, James began pouring you a glass of water, and Remus reached into his bag for something.
Remus returned to you first, breaking off a square of chocolate for you. “It’ll help.”
You were too embarrassed to argue and took it, popping it into your mouth dutifully. 
“Here.” Sirius said as he appeared back at your bedside, handing you a vial. 
“What is it?” You asked, your voice taut with emotion.
Sirius’ eyes softened again as he offered you a sad smile. “Calming draught. You can’t have any more pain potion, but this might make you feel better.”
“And if not, maybe you can convince Moony to share more of his chocolate.” James commented with a soft smile.
You grimaced at the taste of the potion and chased it with the water James had poured for you.
“Thank you.” You admitted quietly, shame colouring your tone as you looked to your lap.
“None of that.” Remus said as he handed you another piece of chocolate.
You took it skeptically. “Why do they call you Moony?”
No one said anything for a moment, but you could tell that neither James nor Sirius were moving a muscle as they watched Remus who in turn watched you.
“Because of my lycanthropy.” He said plainly.
You looked at the various scars before you started to laugh. Sirius’ face drained of all colour while James visibly tensed.
“Of course you are. Remus Lupin. Named after a man raised by wolves and the lupus, or wolf constellation. Oh gods, it was predestined, clearly.”
“Are...are you laughing at me right now?” Remus asked incredulously.
“It’s a little funny...no?” You asked back.
He looked as if he were torn between laughing and crying. “I pour my heart out to you – my deepest darkest secret, and you laugh at me?” He asked again, some amusement colouring his features.
“I told you, I’m an arse.” You said with a shrug of your shoulders.
“Does it bother you?” Sirius asked cautiously from the end of your bed, face appearing impassive for all intents and purposes. 
“I don’t see why it should, it’s none of my business.”
“It could be.” Remus input.
“You don’t want me. I’m no good, Lupin.” You stressed, looking back down at your hands.
“Neither am I.” Sirius agreed.
“Me neither.” Remus added.
“I’m n-” James started.
“So what if the only one of us worthy of love and affection here is James?” Sirius said, cutting James off. “It’s not going to stop me from cherishing what I can get - deserved or not.”
You groaned and threw your head back onto the pillow, cringing at the effect the fast movement had on you and the pain that the movement elicited in your neck.
“Okay, what about this.” James conciliated. “You don’t have to agree to be with us, just give us a chance? The time of day? One Hogsmeade trip to let us fawn over you.”
You looked up at his deep brown eyes that felt so warm you wanted to make a home in them. Sirius, in all his bravado, looked pained as he waited for an answer, and Remus smiled encouragingly at you.
“Fine!” You acquiesced with a groan. “One Hogsmeade trip.”
Much to your chagrin, though not really at all, it ended up being way more than just one Hogsmeade trip.
Thank you to @unstablereader who gave us the library handholding prompt 🫶
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Text
Only in Dreams
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: In his dreams, Azriel recounts how he got to his mate.
Word count: 2k
Warnings: Some angst, mentions of injuries
a/n: Hi this is my first acotar fic idk what I'm doing. I've been reading them for years so here's a little one for fun <3 I know it's different from my usual but inspiration is a finicky creature :) Also, italics denote flashbacks.
~~
There was very little Azriel wouldn’t do for his mate. 
He had learned that early on. 
In those early days, when the bond had made itself known to only him, there was so much confusion and strife within the shadowsinger. He had known you for decades, admired you from afar, and befriended you under self-made pretenses. You were a light, a healer, too good and sweet to be anything to him other than a friend, a coworker. 
But you were also his mate. 
The air had been knocked from his lungs at the realization. 
“Is everything okay?” you had asked, sweet confusion bunching at your brows. 
And Azriel couldn’t answer, not for several long beats. 
“Az, what’s wrong? You look like Cassian after he took that weird herb Majda wanted me to test.”
Another bout of silence, this time accompanied by soft, warm hands along his cheeks. You leaned in, the sweet scent knocking him out of his stupor. As he jerked back, you only followed, blinking in surprise. 
“Azriel—” 
“I apologize,” he finally—weakly—stammered out. “I was talking with Rhys.” 
“You were talking with Rhys?” 
It hadn’t sounded much like a question, but Azriel nodded anyways, enraptured by you and your closeness. He needed to get away, to leave. You were too close. He was too weak. 
But then you giggled, and the sound was so melodic and saccharine that he found himself breathless again. He could get lost in that sound. If he was being honest with himself, he had gotten lost in that sound plenty of times before. But now… now. Gods, now you were his mate. 
As you laughed some more, teasing retorts echoing in the air, Azriel knew you had no idea. 
And, as Azriel had learned, that was fine. You didn’t need to know. Because he knew, and that was enough. 
Enough for the overwhelming devotion he felt for you to finally have substance. To finally be validated. 
You were his—everything sweet and good was his to protect. And, gods, did he want to protect you. 
You made that very difficult in the weeks after the bond had snapped for him. His instincts were in overdrive, taking note of your every move and praying to the cauldron that you were careful when he was sent on missions and you stayed back in Velaris. He had nothing to worry about when that was the case. The inner circle loved you almost as much as he did. 
But then Rhys decided you were needed. 
With an unreciprocated mating bond and a mate that cared so little for her own self-preservation, that had been Azriel’s worst nightmare. 
“Reconsider.” 
“There is nothing to reconsider, Azriel. We need a healer in Windhaven to show them that the clipping won’t be seen to fruition. And y/n just so happens to be our court healer,” Rhys carefully explained for the third time. 
“Send Majda.” 
Rhys held the bridge of his nose. “There is a reason y/n took over her post. Madja is far too old to be making those kinds of trips.” 
“Send anyone else,” Azriel rasped, a tightness to his words. 
“No. She is the best. It will only be for a few weeks and Cassian—” 
“Rhysand.” 
Rhys paused at the desperation laced within his brother’s tone. He removed the fingers attempting to abate the ache along his temple and observed Azriel’s clenched fists and restless shadows. Rhys’s lips parted in shock, his eyes blinking in quick succession. Something clicked within his gaze.
“Is she…” 
The muscle in Azriel’s jaw quivered. “Just don’t send her there. Please.” 
Rhys raised a hand to run down his jaw. “My gods, Azriel. This is…this is—does she know?” 
“No,” he replied, quick and low. 
“I understand what you’re feeling, but I can’t stop her. You know that, brother.” 
And, unfortunately, Azriel knew that. 
When you set your mind to something—when you knew you were going to help people—that was it. There would be nothing keeping you from helping those in need. Especially the Illyrian women. Azriel was pretty sure you kept a dartboard somewhere in the house with Lord Devlon’s face on it. 
He loved that about you, truly he did. But it also made you reckless.
There were plenty of instances where you burned yourself out from healing. You would come home swaying on your feet or be so depleted you couldn’t even winnow correctly. He could count on two hands the amount of times you passed out at the dinner table after work. When he thought about you doing that in Windhaven… Azriel couldn’t even stomach the thought. 
“Then order her,” Azriel gritted out. He could hear you coming. You and Cassian, bags packed, chatting down the hall about something insignificant. 
Why couldn’t he come, again? 
Right, because he would “stir up the camp” or whatever obtuse reason Rhys had given him. 
“You know that won’t go over well,” Rhys countered. 
“Neither will the entirety of Windhaven if she gets hurt.” 
Azriel’s threat fell on deaf ears as you came bounding into the room, bright and determined and smiling at him as if you weren’t leaving. 
“Here to see us off, Az?” 
That trip to Windhaven had been awful—for Azriel and for you. Rhys’s “ordering” hadn’t been effective, and neither had Cassian’s ability to pick up on context clues. As you stood, baffled at Rhys’s sudden change in plans, Cassian didn’t so much as look at Azriel’s subtle vies for assistance. Because Cassian had been just as baffled as you were. 
So, you went to Windhaven. 
And then you came home hurt. 
Not terribly, just a few cuts and a black eye that rivaled his own from the last time he trained with the Valkyries. 
Cassian explained that there had been a fight unrelated to you, but you had gotten caught up in it. He suspected it was a ploy to get hands on you, but Azriel had stopped listening to him the second you landed on the balcony with stitches on your forehead. The moment he saw your hands bandaged and your eye purple and blue. 
You had laughed about your inability to fight, knocking an injured hand into Cassian’s side as he jested that it was time for you to get into the training ring with him. Later, Azriel would agree with that sentiment. In that moment, however, unparalleled fear had coursed through his veins. Rhys was the only one ready for it. 
Cassian’s back slammed into the far wall of the house, wings splaying out against stone. Azriel’s shadows were gone as he held his brother against the wall, abandoning him in favor of wrapping around your wounds. 
Azriel thought he heard you scream. 
“You said you would protect her!” he seethed, pushing his forearm against Cassian’s throat, blue siphon blazing atop his hand.
“Azriel, stop!” Your call went unheard. Rhys stood ground in front of you, arm jutting out when you tried to get around him. 
Cassian pushed back against him, face twisted in confusion. “I did. I pulled her from that fight as soon as I could, Az. You think—” his words cut off with another shove from his brother “—you think I would have let anything happen to her on purpose?” 
Azriel growled, low and dangerous. “All I think is that my mate came back looking like that when you swore to take care of her. You swore.” 
The room went silent, stagnant. Even the shadows halted their appraisal of you as you held onto Rhys’s arm. Cassian stopped fighting. Somewhere down the hall, the rushed footsteps of some other member of the family abruptly stopped. 
“She’s your mate?” 
“Azriel—” Your whisper was lost in the lingering chaos of the room. 
The time after was a blur for Azriel. He knew he left the balcony, retreating to his room hastily after sending you a longing, apologetic glance. He knew you called after him, that you were breathless and shaking and Rhys kept holding you back… telling you to give him some time to cool off. 
He didn’t need time. He needed you, and Azriel had been positive that would never happen now. 
Half of his shadows joined him in his room, engulfing him as he sat on his bed with his head in his hands. The other half stayed with you, still worried about the pain that you had endured. It was a miracle you hadn’t sent them away. They would have listened to you if you had. They would always listen to you. 
When the door creaked, his shadows covered him even more, encasing his fear and worry and embarrassment into a shell that kept him safe. 
He was a fool. 
“Azriel?” 
He had to be imagining the sweet trill of your voice. There was no way you had come for him, not after all of that. But soon, your shoes slinked into the mess of shadows between his legs, and a bandaged hand gently guided his chin up. 
When he met your eyes, his shadows circled faster. His wings fell lower and lower against the bed, giving himself up to your gaze. 
“Azriel,” you repeated, music within the swish of dark air. “Care to explain, shadowsinger?”
The bruises on your face made his stomach turn. He went to look away, to escape this physical and mental turmoil, but you only locked your wrists and kept him there. 
It took him a moment, but he finally relented. 
“You are my mate,” he spoke, gravely and unsure—even though that was the one thing Azriel was sure of above all else. “You are my mate and you are hurt. I am sorry for my actions… if I scared you or—” 
“I wasn’t asking about the display of male violence on the balcony.” Your teasing smile made some of his shadows rest.
It also made hope swell within the deepest parts of Azriel’s wearied chest. 
You didn’t look forlorn at his offhanded declaration, nor did you look repulsed. You just looked like… you. You looked at him as you always had, and maybe that meant something. 
Maybe that was something for Azriel to hold onto. 
“How long have you known?” you asked, when he spent a moment too long admiring the upturn of your mouth. 
Azriel blinked, moving his eyes back to your own. “A while.” 
“And you weren’t going to tell me?” You didn’t sound accusatory, or even angry as he was sure Feyre had all those years ago. You only sounded sad. That made it worse. 
“I wanted to tell you,” Azriel stressed, leaning forward on the bed to capture your legs between his. “I wanted to, I just—y/n, I just…” 
There was no solid explanation. You didn’t rush him as he stumbled over his words—you were patient, as you always were. You were patient and Azriel was a coward.
Determination set a line in his brow. 
“I was a coward,” he affirmed. “I didn’t want to push you away… to make you feel unsure or pressured. You are… you are everything. You have been everything to me for many years now. If I had ruined that—if I had pushed something upon you that you did not want—” 
“Has it occurred to you, Azriel, that I would very much like to be your mate?” 
Azriel paused his spiel, licking his drying lips as he searched your eyes for the lie. 
“Only when I dream.” 
You had kissed him after that, all bruised and scratched and broken, and Azriel found himself dreaming.
As he stared at you across the sitting room, surrounded by your raucous, disruptive family, Azriel dreamed again. The glow of the fire lit up the side of your face as you laughed, sending warmth up the long-accepted mating bond, and he dreamed of you in every iteration of his life. 
And he would do anything to keep that dream alive.
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welcometomyoasis · 3 months
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Firefighter neighbour! Mingyu headcanons
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Synopsis: A series of headcanons in which Mingyu is a firefighter, but also your neighbour.  Mingyu x gn! reader | firefighter au, fluff | 1.3k words | warnings: fires, slight nudity (Mingyu goes shirtless more than once), slightly suggestive, injuries (cat scratches and bruises), food (mention of cookies) A/n: Is this too long for a headcanon? I have no idea i got carried away. anyway happy valentines day :)
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🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu who is a firefighter, and also your hot, sexy nextdoor neighbour.
🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu who has had his eyes on you ever since you moved in. He thinks you’re the most alluring person he’s seen. But alas, he has the worst luck and for a while, he had shifts at odd hours of the day, making it virtually impossible for you to meet him. 
🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu who still can’t stop himself from falling for you despite having never met you. You’re literally the sweetest person. You know he’s a firefighter from the times you see his laundry hanging in the corridor outside his apartment. You know he works weird hours. So you often leave baskets of cookies or food outside his apartment with a note telling him to eat and rest well.
🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu who swoons at the thought of finally meeting you, dreaming about all the possibilities of a romantic encounter. For example, maybe you’ll need help carrying something and he’ll swoop in to save the day. Therefore, allowing him to meet you and to show off his large biceps at the same time.
🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu whose romantic meet cute fantasy obviously doesn’t come true. When you finally meet, it was in the wee hours of the morning. He had an early shift. His alarm went off blaring for a couple of minutes straight because he couldn’t wake up. Then, he kept tripping over things while rushing around getting ready, and banging into all the cabinets in his house. Since he was making a ruckus and you heard cursing through the walls, you ended up knocking at his door to see if he was okay.
🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu who felt so bad seeing you at the door, and even worse that this would be how your first encounter would go. He was cursing at himself when he saw you looking at him with your adorable face scrunched in concern. 
🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu who doesn’t feel so bad anymore when you immediately start to fuss over him, asking him if he was alright and if he needed any help. After his nod of consent, you’re practically running your hands all over him to make sure he didn’t seriously injure himself.
🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu who flushes like crazy at the close contact, leaving you to ask him if he has gotten a fever. All he can do in that moment is to sputter his name and ask if you wanted to meet up some time. You know, as thanks for all the food you give him.
🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu who finally leaves the house, late but extremely giddy that you agreed. He got scolded by fire captain Seungcheol for his tardiness though he didn’t care one bit. 
🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu who brings you out for a cup of coffee when he has the day off. He’s squealing inside like a teenage girl, excited to be spending time with you.
🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu who only appears to be intimidating because of his height and bulk. In reality, as you get to know him, he’s just a shy, adorable, easily excitable golden retriever puppy. 
🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu who always yells out your name excitedly across the corridor as he bounds up to you. Corridor manners be damned, he’s so happy to see you. You’ve become fast friends and meet up whenever you can. 
🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu who is one of the most selfless, kind people you know. He decided to be a firefighter to save lives, and that is such a noble thing to do. The only thing is that he somehow ends up always being on call when there is a cat stuck in a tree. He ends up with scratches all over because the cat will hiss at him when he coos at them.
🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu who is in fact, a great firefighter despite his fear of heights. When there is an emergency, he’s down the firepole in an instant gearing up. Plus he’s so big and strong that the task of running headfirst into danger always goes to him. Just don't ask him to do anything related to running up the ladders. 
🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu who ends up with many injuries from the job regardless of whether he was only saving the cat or running into a burning building.
🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu who also ends up being injured because in reality he is a giant clutz who will trip over his own shadow. 
🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu who sulks and whines to you about how much he hates getting hurt and how much the antiseptic stings as you’re bandaging him up. 
🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu who is the butt of a lot of jokes from his fellow firefighters when he appears the next day covered in your hello kitty plasters. He doesn’t pay them any attention though. The most important thing was that you were the one who tended to his wounds. Plus, you did kiss it to make him feel better. 
🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu who is actually also a tease. Once you get closer, he realises that maybe, you like him in the way he likes you. Don’t think he doesn’t notice the way you ogle at him from a distance, your eyes roaming over his biceps and build. His abs are out in full force, sweat cascading down them. When you watch him lift weights and work out, you’re definitely thinking what else can he do with those arms? And omg he has amazing stamina… 
🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu who decides that he likes seeing your flustered face. He purposefully works out without a shirt in the corridor whenever he knows you are at home. He hangs up his laundry shirtless. He sends you a wink and smirks when he sees the steam rising from your head. He knows you are drooling over him, and he wants nothing else than to see you losing your mind over him. 
🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu who becomes a shy, whining mess as soon as you flirt back. He’s hiding his head in his hands, pouting about how you’re not supposed to flirt back and call him pretty. 
🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu who is awoken to the smell of smoke and the sound of a smoke detector blaring in the middle of the night one day. His heart drops when it sinks in that the sound and smell was coming in from your apartment. 
🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu who literally bursts through the door in nothing but his pants because your safety is his first priority. He has to save you. He’ll regret it if he doesn’t. 
🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu who is stumped when he sees that you’re actually okay. You’re only coughing a bit from the smoke but other than that, there was no real danger. He stares in shock as you turn to him, with a little bit of flour smeared on your cheek, all shy and sheepish that your latest batch of cookies got burnt. 
🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu who is so relieved that you’re okay. There were tears brimming at the corners of his eyes for a moment there. 
🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu who ignores your cries that you need to open a window to let the room ventilate. He rushes forward, pulling you into a very very tight embrace. 
🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu who sobs at how relieved he is. He pulls away and then instantly smashes his lips down against yours. 
🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu who conveys all his feelings of relief, affection and love he has for you through the kiss.
🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu who relishes in the feeling of your lips against his. He can taste the cookie dough that you snuck a bite out off. He can feel the moisture of the butter on your lips. He melts into your embrace when you get over your shock and start to move your lips along with his. 
🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu who kisses first and then confesses his feelings for you after. You both end up in a fit of giggles as you cuddle on your couch after the excitement that you just had.  🔥. Firefighter! Mingyu who is now not only a firefighter and your nextdoor neighbour, but also your hot, sexy boyfriend.
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taglist: @weird-bookworm @wonijinjin @babyleostuff @wishing-fieshes @kwanienies @mayashu @megseungmin @porridgesblog @haecien @mirxzii @scoupsofcherries @eightlightstar @brownsugarbaybee @zaggprincess2 @nonononranghaee
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moonstruckme · 2 months
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hiiii sorry I feel like I request so much I just love your stories!!!! could you do an EMT poly!marauders where the reader is coming home from an injury or surgery or something and they’re just being all sweet and overprotective of her
Don't be sorry sweetheart, thank you for requesting!! <3
cw: mentions of hospital, surgery (no details), nausea
emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 930 words
“Careful of the step,” Remus warns as he unlocks the front door. 
James makes a disgruntled little sound as he passes over it with you in his arms, angling you sideways to get you both through the front door. 
“I know where the step is,” he says. “I’ve lived here exactly as long as you.” 
“I just wanted to make sure.” Remus heads straight for the bathroom. “Do you want to have some more ibuprofen, dove? It’s been long enough now.” 
“Yes, please,” you call after him. James sets you down on the couch, a divot forming between his brows at the thick quality to your voice. 
“Siri has your bag,” he reminds you. “You want it, just to be safe?” 
You nod, swallowing. 
Sirius hustles over, crouching in front of you and holding the plastic bag under your mouth. “Oh, baby,” he coos, setting a hand on the back of your neck while you shudder and cough unproductively over the bag. “I know, I’m sorry. Better make it aspirin, Rem,” he calls down the hall. “She’s still got a fever.” 
“How bad?” 
“I’ll check in a bit.” He presses his lips to your hairline, murmuring softly. “She’s under duress at the moment, aren’t you, poor girl?” 
You want to cry for the sweetness in his tone, not one ounce of teasing. It can be hard to tell with Sirius, sometimes, but when you’re not feeling well he goes gooey-soft and saccharine as honey, all pet names and gentle touches. His thumb strokes the baby hairs at your nape. 
Remus sighs as he comes back. “I knew we shouldn’t have checked her out.” 
“I didn’t want to stay there,” you say into the bag, and James splays a hand on your back, rubbing slow circles. 
“We know, sweetheart.” He gives his fretful boyfriend a reassuring smile. Remus returns it wearily. “We can take care of you just fine from here, don’t worry.” 
Within an hour of waking up from your surgery feeling nauseous and pathetic, you’d been begging anyone who would listen to let you go home. The hospital had wanted to monitor you for a couple more hours, but after that your boyfriends had been able to exercise some sort of paramedic privilege and take you home early despite the normal two-to-three-day inpatient protocol. Your troubles hadn’t evaporated the way you’d expected upon getting out from under all that fluorescent lighting, but you do feel much better being miserable on your own couch. 
You cough into the bag a few more times before relinquishing yourself to the idea that you’re stuck with this nausea for the foreseeable future. “I don’t like this,” you decide, lowering the bag from your face. 
Remus tosses a thermometer to Sirius, who catches it with a good-natured eye-roll and sets it in your ear compliantly. 
“I’m sorry, my love,” James says, his hand migrating to your shoulder as you lean back against the couch cushions. “I know it’s rough right now.” 
The thermometer beeps, and Sirius reads the number aloud as he takes it out. You frown. 
“Oh, thank god,” Remus exhales. James chuckles at him. 
“It’s okay?” you check. 
“Perfectly okay.” Sirius kisses your temple. “That’s completely normal for the first twenty-four hours. You’re all good, sweetness.” 
Pathetically, you feel a bit invalidated. To feel as gross as you do, surely your brain would have to be fully boiling in there. James must see some of this on your face, because he scoots closer to you on the couch, leaning you against his side. 
“Sorry,” you say quietly. 
You can feel Sirius gaze boring into the side of your head as he perches on the armrest. “Not sure why you would be,” he mutters, worming his cold feet underneath your thigh, “but do go on.” 
“I made you all take me home and now I’m being difficult.” 
You’re not quite looking at any of them, but you could swear a collective sigh goes up from your boyfriends. 
“Dove,” says Remus, “look at me.” 
You do, shifting ever so slightly closer to James' side for comfort. A quiet chuckle rumbles through him, his thumb sweeping back and forth over your shoulder. 
Remus’ gaze is steady and kind, his usual remonstrance curbed for your sorry state. “You’re not being difficult,” he tells you. “You’re tired and not feeling well, and that’s to be expected after a procedure like this. I didn’t mean I regret us taking you home, I’m only nervous that you’d have been better taken care of in the hospital.” 
“Impossible,” Sirius remarks. Remus nods in grudging acknowledgement. 
“I’m glad I’m home,” you say, and despite your best intentions your voice teeters on the edge of a whimper. “I’d rather be with just you guys, you know?” 
“We know,” Remus says gently. “I’m glad you’re here, too.” 
James makes a soft sound, rubbing your shoulder more firmly. “Are you feeling tired, angel? We could have a nap.” 
“We?” you ask.
“What, you think you’re the only one who deserves a rest?” Sirius wiggles his toes underneath your thigh. “You got to sleep just this morning. We’ve been worrying all day long.” 
You smile. He looks thrilled to see it, and James stamps a kiss of approval on your cheek. “Right, my bad. A nap sounds good.” 
“Perfect,” Remus agrees, standing. James needles his arms underneath you to pick you up again. 
“Fairly sure they said I could walk on my own,” you say. 
James only shrugs, carrying you towards the bedroom. “Not sure I heard that part. Better safe than sorry, I suppose.”
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coryosbaby · 9 months
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Cw: stepcest (stepbrother x stepsister), intoxication/drug use, a bit suggestive . Slight angst . Soft Rafe <3
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Rafe, he thinks, fell in love with you before the drugs.
He shouldn’t of— and for obvious reason. You were perfect, an angel. But you were Rose’s daughter.
He tried to pry the thoughts away, at first. Tried not to think about your kindness, your innocence, your pretty eyes — your ass, your tits, your cunt. But it wasn’t long before they utterly consumed him.
Another day it was, in the Cameron household: Rafe, coming home, completely coked out of his mind, drunk, and clattering around in the kitchen. He didn’t know what he was looking for, just knows that it had something to do with a spoon and a jar of peanut butter.
It would’ve been almost funny if he didn’t look so distraught to you. When you came down the stairs you knew the noises were Rafe. He always did this; you’d have to clean him up, put him to bed— sometimes you’d cook for him. But that was when he was in your good graces.
“Rafe, what the fuck are you doing?” You groaned, rubbing your eyes sleepily. He hadn’t woken you up, but you were extremely tired. You had wanted to wait up for him because he promised to go on a 7/11 run with you when everyone was asleep and then watch a few movies.
And as usual, he broke his fucking promises.
It angered you, but when Rafe turned around and greeted you with that beautiful intoxicated smile, your frustration wavered when you saw the way his eyes seemed to light up.
“Hey, y/n!”
“Hi, Rafael.”
He frowned, knowing you only called him that when you were aggravated at him. He stumbled drunkly when he tried to approach you. You made sure to catch him by his arm.
“God, you’re wasted,” you said. “Do you feel sick?”
“I did…” he slurred. “But ‘m better now that my favorite girl is here.”
Your face became flushed at his words, but you pulled yourself out of your wandering thoughts and dragged the boy over to the couch. He plopped down onto the cushions, grunting.
“‘M tired..” he murmured.
“Gotta check you for any cuts, first.”
You usually checked him out so you could make sure he wasn’t fighting anyone or getting any bad injuries; he was likely to not even feel it until morning, and when he got a disgusting cut on his ankle once it had got infected and he had to be sent to the hospital. You’ve cleaned up his wounds since then.
And of course, taking his palm into your hand, you found that he had a medium sized cut on his palm. You sighed.
“Any idea how you got this?” You asked.
“No sir, doctor, sir.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“You love me.”
It was true, but you just let out a scoff and went to get the first aid kit from one of the cabinets in the nearest bathroom. Pulling out the proper cleaning materials, you got on your knees in front of Rafe and began to care for his wound. He was almost in a daze as you did this; you looked even better when he did a line or two. He’d mistaken you for an angel quite a few times.
“You’re ‘s pretty.” He whispered.
You couldn’t help but smile. You didn’t say anything until you could see that his eyes were shut and his breathing had calmed. You looked up at him and lightly slapped the side of his cheek.
“Rafe— you can’t go to sleep yet.” You stated calmly. He opened his eyes, just a tiny bit, and a grin spread across his face when he saw your doe eyes staring up at him.
“Sorry, sweets. Couldn’t help it.”
You finally wrapped some gauze around his cut. Made sure to press a kiss to it. He always gave you hell if you didn’t.
“Cmon. Gotta get you upstairs.” you said.
Rafe yawned and stretched when he stood up, and you grabbed his hand so you could guide him up to his room. It was immediate when he saw his king sized bed, and he made sure to strip down to his briefs and climb under the covers. You tried not to stare too long at his chiseled chest or his pretty sculpted muscles. You were about to leave when his fingers grabbed your wrist and wrapped tightly around it.
“Stay,” he murmured. “Don’t want you to go, momma.”
The nickname isn’t one he used often, but on nights like this he let it slip up once or twice. You didn’t mind it; in fact, it was quite cute.
“I shouldn’t,” you replied.
“Please.”
You couldn’t say no when he begged like that, with those puppy dog eyes. You had already gotten into your pajamas earlier in the night and done your skincare routine so you didn’t really have anything left to do. You climbed in beside the boy, laid down beside his half naked body. You didn’t trust yourself or him to be in the same bed, but exhaustion was taking over you and you just wanted to sleep.
“Happy?”
“Mhm..”
He looked up at you, dazed. He stared at your lips almost intensely. It wasn’t long before his breath was hot against your lips and he was trying to lean in.
You move away from it, from his kiss. You couldn’t do that with him. You knew how wrong it was.
“Don’t. Please,” you murmured to him. Rafe looked saddened, pained, at your rejection.
“Give me one kiss,” he pleaded. His thumb came up to run over your bottom lip. Your face was on fire. “Just one, I promise. I can’t keep going on like this forever, without one kiss.”
You wanted to kiss him; you wanted it so badly that it hurt. You had wanted it since the first year that you moved in and saw him sitting at the kitchen counter with a bowl of cereal every morning. You’ had wanted him since he taught you how to roll your first joint, took you to your first high school party.
You always wanted him.
You gave him what he begged for. It was small, feather light and like angel wings against Rafe’s lips. He went back in for another one; he knew he promised just one, but as usual, the boy didn’t keep his promises.
You let him, though. And it felt nice. He peppered them along your neck, too, after that. You could smell the alcohol on his breath and the cologne he used as he did it. It left electric shocks along your skin.
After one more sloppy kiss against your jugular, he pulled away and buried his face into your neck sweetly.
You didn’t know how you were going to look at him in the morning. You didn’t know if he even remembered the next day.
He did, though. He remembered all of it. In fact, he made sure to get you back in his room and kiss you even more the next night, and the night after that, and the night after that.
You were so fucked.
© 2023 bratty-lxndry444 🤏🏻 all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, repost, or claim as yours !!!
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miley1442111 · 7 days
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(part 5)party choices- a.donaldson
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a/n: fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)
summary: when you find out about his betrayal and how your relationship truly ends. (dw there are more parts after this :))
pairing: art donaldson x reader
warnings: angst, feelings of disappointment, hurt, cheating, sexual content, etc. +
PART 1: before his choice PART 2: choices and chances PART 3: choices and meetings PART 4: wrong choice, wrong move
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Art thought back to the party as he lay in bed that night, regret bubbling deep in his stomach.
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He followed you around the party for around 40 minutes before he broke off to find Patrick. He didn’t mean to walk in on them, hell, they weren’t even in a room, they were doing it in a shed, it was fucking ridiculous. Partick had just pulled him in, he consented, sure, but he wasn’t thinking straight. 
“Pat?” Art called into the darkness of the night. “Patrick?”
“In here,” he heard giggling from the shed just a few paces away. 
He opened the door to be met with a very naked Patrick with Tashi beside him. “Jesus Patrick!”
Art looked up as the two of them laughed at his reaction.
“What, it’s not like you haven’t seen it before,” Tashi teased. 
“Fuck off,” he sighed. “I’ll talk to you later-”
“Don’t leave,” Patrick smirked. 
“Yeah Art, stay,” Tashi teased. Art felt so conflicted as he nodded his head. He loved you, he wanted to fuck you, but he wanted this too.
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The second he left the shed, post-orgasm clarity hit him hard. He‘d just fucked Tashi Duncan (and technically Patrick Zweig watched). Your competition, the woman who hates you, the woman he promised to steer-clear from. 
Fuck.
He went to find you immediately, planning on telling you and letting you break up with him. But… When he saw you, so beautiful, that damn plum dress clouding his judgement, he walked up to you, wrapped you up in his wraps and kissed you as you giggled at his antics. 
He drove you back to your dorm and followed you inside, falling asleep beside you as guilt buried itself in his body. 
He couldn’t even respond when you told him you loved him. 
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The worst part was that Art knew he’d fucked up. He knew it was an awful idea to try and hide it from you and he regretted not telling you the second it happened. He was aware of how bad this was, not that all the other shit he did to ruin you. Yet he still did. 
You were enraged. You were sick of letting this pathetic boy rule your life. You were done.
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“C-can we talk?” he asked, cautiously approaching you as you ate in the canteen of the challenger. 
“About what?” you snapped. “You got what you wanted, you have Tashi.”
“I don’t want Tashi,” he mumbled, staring at his feet. “I want you, and I know I don’t deserve you.”
“You cheated on me.” 
“I did,” he admitted. 
“You cheated on me, then strung me on for 6 months, Art. You slept in my bed, you fucked me, you kissed me, and you promised me you loved me, all while you knew you;d fucked someone else,” you listed off. “Go fuck yourself, Art. I hope you choke.”
Art could feel his throat burning. “Alright,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. 
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You’d caught wind of Tashi’s injury a week after it happened, and you felt sickly satisfied. Karma. 
You only saw Art and Tashi together, and found out they were dating a few weeks after they got together. 
You were sitting in your dorm when there was a knock at the door. You opened it to find someone who shocked you. 
Patrick Zweig.
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art donaldson masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)
people who asked to be tagged :) @fkaams
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girlgenius1111 · 1 month
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ingrid x mapi x reader smut 18+ mapi + r turn the tables on ingrid after a stressful week.
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If there was one thing that practically everyone knew about your relationship, it was that Ingrid had you and Mapi under her thumb. One word from her, and the two of you would abandon whatever ridiculous idea you were plotting, smile guiltily at her, and do as she said. It was assumed that this was how things went in… other aspects of your relationship. 
That assumption would be correct. 
You and Mapi did what Ingrid wanted. You fucked when she said you could. You came only when she allowed it. You took any punishment she decided on, though not without complaint. And while Mapi definitely had some power over you too, you were the true, definitive sub in the relationship. Most of the time spent with your girlfriends in a sexual way was either Mapi and Ingrid taking you to pieces together, or Ingrid taking you and Mapi to pieces herself. 
What never occurred, though, was Ingrid allowing herself to submit to either of you. She liked to be in control; in her life, she so often felt such little control, that when she had the opportunity for it, she took it immediately. And normally, this was fine. Everyone’s needs were met, everyone got exactly what they wanted. For Ingrid, that was being in charge. For Mapi that was toeing the line between bossing you around, and listening to Ingrid. For you, that was doing whatever the 2 other women told you too. 
Recently, though, you and Mapi got the feeling that although she would never admit it, Ingrid needed something different from you both. She was stressed, beyond belief. You were out with a concussion, which you were almost fully healed from, though the club was being cautious with you. Mapi was recovering well from knee surgery, already walking and back to normal, non football activities. Yet Ingrid continued to hover and do everything for the both of you like she’d done when you both first got hurt. It seemed like she was struggling with not being able to control your injuries, not being able to fix it and make it all better. 
She was under so much pressure at work, putting so much pressure on herself at home, that it really was only a matter of time before she snapped. And, of course, this snap came in the form of a screaming match between her and Mapi. Mapi was generally grouchier because she couldn’t play, and she’d get into moods sometimes where it was just better to leave her alone, and let her work through it. She’d always come to the two of you later, apologize for her behavior, and allow you both to make her feel better. Ingrid knew this, but she wasn’t having the best day either, the team having an awful practice after a less than satisfactory win over the weekend. She was tired, and annoyed, and had absolutely no patience for Mapi’s attitude. This all very quickly dissolved into an argument. You all didn’t fight often. Mapi was a short tempered person, though, and recently, Ingrid was too, increasingly so. 
You’d arrived home after both girls, having gotten lunch after training with some of your teammates. It was… eerily quiet when you walked into the house. No music playing, no show playing on the TV. You didn’t know where Ingrid was, but you could see Mapi’s head peeking over the edge of the lounge chair in the backyard. You headed that way, rather cautiously, confused as to what had caused such tension in the house while you were gone. 
Mapi was still pissed, you could tell that the second you caught a look at her face. She was holding Bagheera on her lap like a Bond villain, and scowling at the sky above her. 
“Hey.” You said quietly, sitting in the chair next to hers.
“Hi.” She grunted. 
“What happened?” You asked. 
“Ask your girlfriend.” 
“I just did.” You reminded her, smiling a bit. Mapi shot you a glare, clearly not appreciating your attempt at humor. “What’s wrong?” you asked, a bit kinder this time. 
“Ingrid is in a mood.” She complained. And so is María, you thought to yourself, knowing better than to say it out loud. You reached out, taking her hand in yours, glad when you saw her body visibly relax at the contact. 
“What did you fight about?” 
“I do not even remember. I came home and said I wanted to be alone and she just started shouting at me and I yelled back and then we both stormed off.” Mapi admitted. 
“Maybe Ingrid didn’t want to be alone.” You suggested. 
“Well, I did.” Mapi said shortly. You rolled your eyes. 
“María, I love you very much, but sometimes I think you forget that Ingrid is just as emotional as you are, she just does a better job hiding it. She was probably upset, or stressed, and wanted you, and you probably blew her off because you were focused on being grumpy.”
“I am not grumpy,” Mapi began. You silenced her with a single raised eyebrow. Mapi groaned. “Fine, I will go apologize.” 
“No, not yet. I’ll go talk to her. You can come in in 10 minutes, and then apologize.” You declared, ignoring Mapi’s frustrated huff in favor of kissing her forehead and walking directly back inside. 
You found your other girlfriend in the bedroom. Well, you didn’t really find her. You found an Ingrid sized shape under the covers, and carefully crawled onto the bed next to it.
“Ingrid,” you called softly, only hearing a soft sniffle in response. This was your first clue that something was really wrong, more than just the fight. “Let me see you.” You insisted, pulling the covers off your girlfriend’s head. She was curled up into a miserable little ball, cheeks tearstained, a frown set on her lips. 
“Hi.” She said stiffly. 
“Do you want a hug?” You asked, opening your arms when Ingrid nodded, and practically threw herself at you. Her larger body landed on top of yours, and she settled her face against your shoulder. “Hey pretty girl.” You murmured, pushing some hair out of her face. 
“Did you talk to María?” She asked quietly. 
“Yes.” 
“Is she upset with me?” Ingrid wondered. She sounded so unlike herself, so insecure and vulnerable. 
“A bit, before. I talked to her though. She isn’t mad anymore.” 
“She should be mad. I was horrible.” Ingrid sighed. 
“I think we’re both just worried about you, baby.” You told her, still holding tight even when she tried to pull back a bit. 
“I’m fine.” Ingrid replied in a monotone. 
“I don’t believe that.” 
“I do not either.” María spoke from the doorway. Ingrid stiffened against you, but Mapi was across the room in a flash, crawling onto the bed next to you both. “Ingrid,” she sighed, noticing when the brunette started to cry again. 
“I’m sorry, María,” Ingrid sobbed, shifting off of you to push her face into Mapi’s sweatshirt. 
“Hey, shh. Estás bien amor, todo está bien.” Mapi whispered, pulling both you and Ingrid in as close as you could get. “I am not mad, cariño. I am sorry I was so grouchy earlier, I should have made sure you were okay.”
“I’m just so stressed,” Ingrid said, so quietly it was clear she was reluctant to say anything at all. “I don’t remember what it’s like not to be stressed.” 
You and Mapi exchanged a look, wondering if this was the right time to set your plan into action. The plan that you’d been discussing for days, with no clear way to get it started. This seemed like the right time. Ingrid needed this, even if she would never ask for it. Never know that she needed to ask for it. You and Mapi knew just how well it could work, though. 
“You know what helps me when I’m stressed?” You asked quietly, wiping a few tears off Ingrid’s cheeks when she turned to look at you. 
She cracked a faint smile. “I do. I don’t know that making you come until you can’t think would help me, though.” 
She was joking, but looking between you and Mapi, she realized she was closer to what you were insinuating than she thought. 
“No, but letting us help you might.” Mapi smiled. 
Ingrid’s face was blank, but there was a flicker of interest behind her eyes.
“You both want to… me? You want to…” She trailed off. 
“Fuck you? Yes, we do.” Mapi said easily. 
“Very much.” You echoed. 
Ingrid looked baffled, completely shocked. Neither of you had ever expressed interest in doing this before, until now. And it wasn’t that she didn’t want it, not really. It was just… scary. But she trusted you guys, and it was this that had her pulling you both a bit closer. 
“Only if you want us to, Ingrid. If you don’t, we can just talk, just relax. Whatever you need.” 
“I want it.” Ingrid said, though it was clear in her tone that she hadn’t given in, not completely. She still held both of you like she was in control, like she was in charge. 
“Let me take care of you, bebita,” Mapi whispered, nuzzling her face into Ingrid’s neck and beginning to kiss at her skin. “Let us take care of you.” 
Ingrid still looked unsure, though she tilted her neck slightly to allow Mapi easier access. Her eyes were fixed on you, vulnerable and desperate, when she responded.  “I don’t know how to not…” she trailed off. What she meant was clear. She didn’t know how to not be in control.
“We’ll show you.” You promised. “We’re very good at it.” 
“You are. I can show you,” she began, but you and Mapi both shook your heads simultaneously. 
“No. You won’t show us anything. We’ll take care of you.” Mapi corrected. 
It was the first real demand that either of you had made, and Ingrid reacted on instinct, grabbing Mapi’s neck in a way she normally loved, before she seemed to remember herself, and froze. 
“Amor.” Mapi said, her eyes locked on Ingrids. You knew she was talking to you, though, and you knew exactly what she wanted. In the time it took you to get off the bed, grab the restraints from the drawer, and return to the bed, Mapi had Ingrid on her back, one of the defender’s hands holding the Norwegians wrists tightly above her head. 
“Really, María, you are going to tie me up?” Ingrid asked sarcastically, clearly thinking that her perfect girl didn’t have it in her. Her body radiated defiance, and you knew then that this would be more difficult than you’d been anticipating. While Ingrid wanted to let go, had agreed to it, getting her to actually go against her instincts was always going to be difficult. 
Mapi was quick to correct this defiance, though, her hand gripping Ingrid’s jaw as you began to tie the woman’s hands to the bedposts. “I will do what I want, and you will listen.” 
Ingrid still didn’t look like she was taking her girlfriend very seriously, and she was shocked at the way Mapi suddenly yanked you closer. The Spaniard grabbed you by the back of the neck, pulling you towards her. You were both leaning over Ingrid’s extended legs, a fact that she was viscerally aware of. 
When Mapi pressed her lips to yours, you could tell she wasn’t completely over her frustration from earlier, and that she was only putting it aside for the sake of the woman underneath you. You knew, too, that she would also benefit from taking control, and you let her completely take over the kiss. She tilted your head back to get a better angle, absolutely ravishing your lips, kissing them, biting at them, pushing her tongue into your mouth, until you were breathless just from her ministrations against you. 
“Mapi, I want her,” Ingrid said lowly, both of you clearly able to feel her burning gaze. You pulled away slightly, as if to move down to the Norwegian, but Mapi shook her head, pulling you back in until her words were whispered against your mouth.
“Eres mía. No de ella.” Mapi told you. 
“Yours,” you agreed easily, returning Mapi’s soft grin
“María,” Ingrid complained, now fighting the restraints on her hand, clearly very unhappy with being ignored. 
“Tan impaciente.” Mapi rolled her eyes, but leaned back, pushing you down towards the apex of Ingrid’s thighs. “Come.” 
Eagerly, you pulled Ingrid’s shorts and underwear down, tossing them without regard off the bed, before you buried your face in between her legs. 
“Yes, there,” Ingrid sighed, relaxing slightly back into the bed as you licked at her. You knew what Ingrid liked, and you knew what Mapi wanted from you. To build her up fast, and pull away, just as fast. You supposed the Spaniard was somewhere near the bed, getting the strap on, but you were much too focused on the task at hand to think about anything else other than the taste of Ingrid on your tongue, and the way her wet heat dripped for you. 
You focused on her clit, gently taking it into your mouth and suckling, before returning to broad strokes over her entrance. You added two fingers, her walls stretching easily to accommodate. It was only when she tensed under you that you opened your eyes, glancing upwards to see Mapi kneeled by the Norwegian’s head. 
“Open bebita,” Mapi told her. Ingrid looked frustrated to say the least, but allowed Mapi to press the strap into her open mouth. “Que buena,” 
The praise evidently did something to Ingrid, because as you returned to focus on her core, you could hear the wet smacks and light gags as she took Mapi’s length into her mouth. 
“So pretty with my cock in your mouth, sí?” 
Mapi’s words only turned Ingrid on more, and she only grew wetter as you continued to work her up. You focused your mouth up to her clit, flicking your tongue over it rapidly, fucking your fingers into her hard, using your free hand to hold Ingrid’s hips down against the mattress. 
“Fuck, I’m close,” she mumbled, releasing Mapi’s cock with a loud intake of air. And although you were slightly shocked by how fast this had happened, Mapi didn’t seem to be. The Spaniard seemed to know exactly what she needed to do to get Ingrid where she wanted her. 
Ingrid let out a groan from deep in her throat, and you heard Mapi shush her lightly. You could visualize what the Norwegian looked like, saliva smeared across her face, Mapi’s hand laced through her hair, and it only encouraged you. 
You didn’t forget what you and Mapi had discussed, though, nor did the consequences of disobeying slip your mind. So, as Ingrid’s hips jerked against you, and you could feel her muscles begin to tighten, you pulled away, grinning down at her. 
“No no no NO, elskling come back here. Now!” Ingrid whined, her eyes flying open as she glared up at you, a warning clearly evident on her face. And even though it went against all of your instincts, you looked away from her, towards Mapi, a shy smile on your face. She met your look with a grin, before refocusing her attention back on Ingrid. 
“Do not complain, cariño, we are just getting started.” She warned quietly, before she guided herself back towards the Norwegian’s mouth. Ingrid wisely chose to remain silent, looking up at her girlfriend with lust in her eyes as Mapi began to fuck into her mouth. 
The Spaniard pushed in far, shushing Ingrid quietly when she whined in complaint and squirmed slightly. “Just take it, bebita, be good for me.” 
At this, Ingrid began to bob her head back and forth as well as she could, a new look in her eyes as she let Mapi fuck her face. You were rather worked up from watching up until this point, and you took your opportunity when Mapi threw her head back, grunting softly as Ingrid’s throat put pressure on the strap, and by extension, on her own center. 
What little Ingrid had appeared to submit up until this point disappeared instantly when you pushed her leg to bend slightly and straddled her thigh. Ingrid loved nothing more than to watch you get yourself off on her, especially when she could tell you when to stop and wait, and when to make yourself come. This wasn’t one of those times, though, as she was quickly reminded when Mapi pulled her attention away from you and the slow grind of your hips against her leg. 
“Is she distracting you? Do you want to watch?” Mapi asked, feigning softness, though Ingrid didn’t seem to pick up on that. 
“Yes, want to watch her,” Ingrid replied breathlessly, her jaw aching slightly from the position it had been in. 
“You heard her, mi niña. Give our girl a show.” Mapi slid down to lay next to Ingrid, beginning to work marks into her neck. Ingrid was almost unaware, her attention completely captivated by you on top of her, steadily working yourself towards an orgasm. Her legs were muscular, and you’d found the perfect spot to rut again, the friction causing you to speed up, and causing slightly breathless gasps to leave your mouth.
It was an unusual sight for the brunette, though, to see you so lost in your own pleasure, taking what you needed without looking to Ingrid for some direction. It wasn’t entirely welcome, and your girlfriend felt the need for the control rushing back into her body. She tensed under you, and under Mapi, pulling at the restraints her hands were in. 
You were getting closer and closer, rocking yourself back and forth against Ingrid’s thigh, showing no signs of stopping. Mapi didn’t seem to be interested in stopping you either, her attention completely focused on Ingrid’s neck. The Norwegian tugged at her restraints once more, before she spoke up. 
“Elskling, not yet” she instructed, frowning when you completely ignored her. She wanted you on her mouth, or riding her fingers. She wanted to directly make you come, when she wanted you to, and not a second sooner. She needed the control, she thought, ached for it. 
It was submission that she really needed, though, you and Mapi were both sure. Even more sure now, having seen how her body relaxed at Mapi’s possessive and bossy words, and tensed when she tried to regain control. 
“Shit, María, can I?” You asked, directing the question towards the Spaniard. 
“No.” Ingrid replied, at the same time as Mapi gave a resounding ‘yes.’
 “Relax, mi amor. Let her make a mess on you.” Mapi whispered, her words a warm breath on Ingrid’s neck. “Do you feel how wet she is? I can see it from here.” 
“Fuck, Ingrid, you feel so good,” you cried, your head dropping forward until your hair hid your face, your hands bracing yourself on Ingrid’s muscular abdomen.  
“She is going to come on your leg, Ingrid, and you are going to let her.” 
“I want to taste her,” Ingrid whined, using a tone of voice you were sure you’d never heard from her before. 
“No.” Mapi told her simply, pulling away from Ingrid to watch as you fell over the edge, your body spasming against Ingrid, low whines falling from your lips. 
And as you collapsed onto Ingrid, so did something in the Norwegian. When she looked at your other girlfriend, it was with a completely new expression on her face. 
“María, please fuck me,” Ingrid whispered, “I’m dripping for you, baby, please. I need your cock,” 
Mapi bit back a smile at Ingrid’s filthy words, knowing she had the younger woman just where she wanted her. For the moment, though, she ignored Ingrid’s begging, tilting your head from where it was resting against Ingrid’s chest so the Spaniard could meet your eyes. 
“You did so well, mi niña,” Mapi cooed, rubbing her thumb softly over your cheek bone. You smiled lazily up at her, feeling Ingrid squirm unhappily under you. 
“María,”
“Shh, cariño, be patient.” Mapi replied condescendingly, her eyes not flicking up to Ingrid’s. “Do you want a reward, mi amor?” 
“Sí, por favor,” you replied almost breathlessly, looking up at María as if she was the only other person on earth. Ingrid felt something she wasn’t used to feeling. Jealousy. She wanted both of your guys’ attention on her, craved it deep within her. It was so unfamiliar, it was almost uncomfortable, and she let out a quiet whine almost accidentally, her body jerking up into yours. 
“Ingrid,” Mapi scolded lightly, finally turning her gaze on the midfielder. “You have to be patient.” She was enjoying this, the almost alternate universe that she found herself in. Ingrid begging her was something that never happened, and Mapi relished it. 
She reached over to the bedside table, grabbing the small vibrator she’d set out a few minutes prior. With both of you watching, she slipped it inside of herself, holding the remote in her hand as she pushed the harness back in place. 
“I will give you my cock. If you make our girl come before I do, then it can be your turn to come, vale?” Mapi rasped, lips lifting into a slight smile at the determined glint that lit up Ingrid’s eyes. 
Nothing else needed to be said, enough talking having been done for the moment. You maneuvered yourself up Ingrid’s body, turning around so you were facing Mapi, and hovering over Ingrid’s mouth. She strained her neck up, trying to reach your soaking pussy, while you stayed just out of reach. 
It was only when you saw Mapi click the vibrator on, and saw Ingrid’s eyes flutter shut as the Spaniard pressed into her, that you lowered yourself down. 
Ingrid had very clearly taken Mapi’s challenge to heart, because even as she gasped and groaned against you, she was clearly working hard to work you up fast. And it was working. It was just that Mapi remained pretty much untouched up until this point, and her sensitivity exceeded yours. 
The motion of fucking one of you always got her, too. The grind of her hips, watching the strap disappear into Ingrid’s cunt, the feeling of the harness pressing against her just right. It was all so perfect. 
So while Ingrid fucked her tongue into your clenching pussy, her nose brushing against your clit, Mapi fucked Ingrid languidly, slowly, casually, all the while the vibrator inside of her was pushing her closer and closer. It wasn’t enough to get Ingrid very close, but you and Mapi were right on the edge. 
Ingrid fucked her tongue into you frantically, able to tell from the way you grinded down on her face that you were close. You were fighting it, though, your eyes on Mapi, willing yourself to let her beat you, like you’d discussed. 
It was hard, made harder by the sight of Mapi with her head thrown back, small groans leaving her mouth, one of her hands toying with her nipple. You held strong, though, holding back until you were almost in tears, until moan after moan tumbled from behind your lips. 
Ingrid was furious under you, feeling your muscles clench around her, knowing exactly what you were attempting to do. 
Mapi grew more vocal, though, and you reached out, squeezing tightly to her hand as the Spaniard came. 
“Sí, sí amor,” Mapi cried, and with that, you let yourself go, a tidal wave of pleasure washing over you. It wasn’t a particularly strong orgasm for Mapi, which was lucky, because she was able to catch you as you pitched forward into her arms, shying away from Ingrid’s punishing and overstimulating touch. 
“Ingrid, your mouth, jesus,” you whined, feeling Mapi’s chest shake under you with silent laughter. 
“Neither of you are playing fair.” You heard Ingrid complain. Mapi eased you down onto the bed next to the Norwegian, and you forced your eyes open to take in the sight of the woman next to you. 
Ingrid’s face was flushed, covered in your wetness, her dark eyes glaring up at Mapi, who only smiled down at her, situating herself in between the Norwegian’s legs. She released Ingrid’s hands from the restraints, but pressed them into the pillow above the brunette’s head, making it clear what she wanted.
“Neither of us agreed to play fair, mi amor.” 
Without further warning, Mapi pressed herself deep inside of Ingrid, bottoming out in one smooth stroke. 
“Fucking-María,” Ingrid cried, her eyes slamming shut at the sudden influx of pleasure. 
“Do I feel good, niña bonita?” Mapi asked, her hips beginning an unforgiving pace as she fucked into Ingrid.
“Yes, so good,” Ingrid gasped. Her hand blindly reached for yours, and you grabbed it easily, very happy to watch as Mapi took her to pieces next to you. 
“Do you want to come?” Mapi asked breathlessly, although the answer was rather obvious. Her eyes were fixed on Ingrid under her, not wanting to miss a single second of the normally so strong willed woman pleading for her. 
“Yes, Mapi, you know I do.” Ingrid replied, somehow managing to sound annoyed and incredibly turned on at the same time. 
“Beg.” Mapi instructed, her hand coming to rest over Ingrid’s throat, her fingers pressing in lightly, just enough that Ingrid felt it, and just enough that her head fell back, and her body quivered under the Spaniard’s. She readjusted her legs, giving her a better position, and began to jackhammer into Ingrid, knowing precisely where to press her cock. 
Ingrid forced her eyes open, staring up at her girlfriend, as if trying to tell if she was being serious. She could hardly think, not with the way Mapi was fucking her. And when you began to brush your fingers through her hair, cooing sweet words into her ear, she knew she was done for. 
“I can’t take any more, María, please, I need you, please let me come, I’ll do anything,” Ingrid whined, her words broken up by moans and stuttering breaths. 
“Good girl,” Mapi promised, making sure the words were spoken in English, so they had the full effect. With that, Ingrid came, hard. Harder than you’d potentially ever seen her come, until her body was writhing against the mattress, her mouth open in a silent cry. 
Mapi worked her through it, as you pressed kiss after kiss to the side of Ingrid’s face, pulling her easily into you when Mapi finally pulled out. 
Ingrid’s body shook against you, quiet whimpers leaving her mouth as she finally got the release she didn’t know she needed. As she finally let go of all the stress she’d been hanging on to. 
Rather hastily, Mapi tore the strap off of herself, the vibrator removed carelessly, both items tossed off the side of the bed. The Spaniard pressed her bare body up against Ingrid’s back, so that the taller woman was squished comfortably in between the both of you. 
Ingrid seemed to be at a loss for words, only able to hold on tight to you, and tangle one of her trembling legs with Mapi’s. 
“You were so good for me, amor,” Mapi whispered, “so pretty for us.” 
Ingrid let out a deep breath, relaxing even more into your body. You kissed the side of her head easily, tangling your finger’s with Mapi’s where they rested over Ingrid’s body. 
“Thank you,” Ingrid mumbled, her face still hidden away in the crook of your neck. 
“Do you feel better?” You asked, running your fingers through her hair. 
“Better. So good.” Ingrid sighed, still clearly a little fucked out. 
Mapi chuckled behind her. “Good, mi amor. Rest now, okay? We can talk later.” 
And with the promise of a conversation, as was necessary in any healthy relationship, Ingrid let herself drift away for a bit, her body completely devoid of stress for the first time in weeks. 
-----
i admittedly did not proofread this
thinking a second part [who is shocked! who!!!!] where the trio have a conversation about taking care of ingrid, and mapi and r spoil their girl. fluff and a little bit of angst vibes. it that appealing? or should i leave it here? can't decide <3
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ktgoodmorning · 1 month
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You'll be okay
Alexia Putellas x reader
Part 4 to that awkward smile
You struggle with your concussion recovery but Alexia's there to help you.
A short little one to finish up this series!
I Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 I
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The morning after your concussion, you were woken up by the intense pounding in your head, just as bad as it was when you first went down on the pitch. The pain meds given to you by the physios had apparently worn off and now it was catching up with you. You instinctively had buried your face in your pillow as if it could make it all better, letting out a whiny sob that you had fought so hard to hold in. Your girlfriend was a light sleeper and was always even worse after a game day, that combined with your injury, had her barely sleeping at all that night, instantly awake as soon as you made a sound. 
You didn’t notice her wake up until you felt her hand gently running up and down your back as you cried into your pillow. Of course the crying only increased your pain but at this point you couldn’t stop. “Amor, I’ve got you, okay? You’ll be alright.” Her voice was rough from sleep, normally something that would leave you instantly distracted from whatever was going on in your mind, but not able to overcome the pain you were currently feeling, causing you to cry even harder. 
Alexia must have realized that your sudden increase in pain was due to your medication wearing off, as she quickly tried to get up to get you another dose, only being stopped by your tight grip on her t-shirt. “Don’t go, I need you.” It broke her heart to hear the way you cried for her, showing a side of you that she hadn’t seen for many years. 
“I’m just going to get you some more pain meds, I’ll be right back, I promise. I really think it’ll help, okay?” You didn’t really respond, just lightening the hold you had on her shirt so that she could get up while you continued to sob hard in complete agony. 
It felt like ages even though it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes until your girlfriend returned to your side, water bottle in one hand, medication bottle in the other. At this point you had only spiraled further, gasping for breath as you continued to make yourself feel worse and worse. Alexia knew you were struggling but had no idea how bad it was until she saw you now, somehow even more worked up than when she left you just a few minutes before. “Hey, hey, it’s me. You’re okay, you’re gonna be just fine.” She pulled you over so your head was laying on her lap, allowing her to run her fingers through your hair and try to calm you down. “See if you can take a deep breath for me, I’ve got you now.” 
“I- I can’t-” You continued to gasp for breath, only freaking yourself out more and causing you to start shaking your head quickly, as if you could almost will it all to go away. 
“Hey, don’t do that you’ll hurt yourself, amor. It’s okay, it’s okay, just look at me.” You finally opened your eyes, the first attempt you had made at calming down. “There you go, you’re doing so good. See if you can breathe with me.” The blonde held eye contact with you, taking exaggerated deep breaths in hopes that you would follow her. Her one hand remained on the side of your face, gently stroking it with her thumb, while her other hand laced her fingers with yours, letting you squeeze it as hard as you wanted to help cope with the pain. 
After a few minutes, your breathing had slowed significantly, returning to quiet cries. The second you had slightly calmed, Alexia helped you sit up so you could take your meds, trying to get them in your system as soon as possible. She had never seen you so broken before, and it had left her unsure of just how to help you, especially as she watched you continue to cry, completely helpless. “How can I help you, amor?” Her voice was much softer than you had heard from her before, filled with uncertainty once again. 
“Can you just hold me please and tell me it’ll be okay?” Your girlfriend immediately opened her arms to allow you to collapse into her chest as you still continued to cry, breaking her heart even further over your reaction. 
“You’ll be okay, mi amor. Your head will start feeling better any minute now when your meds kick in. The doctors said, this is the worst of it, remember? It’ll only get better from here, and I’m not going anywhere, I’ve got you.” She rocked you slightly, just saying anything she could think of to make you feel better. 
“It hurts, Ale.” You whimpered into her shoulder yet again as she held you tightly. 
“I know, amor, I know. But it’ll get better, you’ll be okay. Let’s see if you can fall back asleep for a while, I think it’ll help.” You gave her a slight nod, but started to climb off her lap and back to your side of the bed, causing Alexia to scrunch up her eyebrows in confusion. “What are you-” 
“Ale, I woke you up. I know you’d rather get up and make some breakfast instead of laying in bed all day, you don’t have to stay here with me.” She just shook her head at you, while she pulled you back into her arms. 
“It’s okay baby, I couldn’t sleep anyways. You know I barely sleep after games, so do you really think I could sleep knowing you were concussed next to me?” You remained silent, unsure of if you believed her or if she was just being nice to take care of you, but of course she saw straight through your silence. “Sleep. I’ll keep you safe, I’ll be right here. If I fall asleep you can wake me up whenever you want, even if you don’t have a reason to.”
You finally allowed yourself to get comfortable once again in her arms, knowing there was no way she’d take no for an answer. As you fell back to sleep, you could’ve sworn you heard her mutter a “te amo” just before you drifted off.
Last one of this series! Would love to hear any feedback or requests for what you'd like to see next!
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bigfatbimbo · 3 months
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I’m a Bad Liar with a Savior Complex —
Part two,, 2k words,, Vox x reader
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a/n — THIS IS A FOLLOW UP FIC OF THE FIRST ONE BY THE WAY. For those who didn’t know even though I literally spelled it out in the title.
warnings — Angst, toxic relationships, mild fluff, discussion of injuries, read the first part first!
summary — Part two of ‘I’m a Bad Liar with a Savior Complex’ where Vox comes to the reader after a particularly bad fight with Val.
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“I love you.”
The words echoed throughout your mind as you drifted in and out of consciousness. I love you. 
What a load of bullshit. Vox didn’t love you, he just loved your attention and wanted to keep it for as long as possible. That had to be it.
But he was so tired, he couldn’t have possibly had control over what he was saying. And besides, the idea that everything Vox says is perfectly calculated is giving him way too much credit.
Isn’t that what got him into this mess in the first place? Of course, it was the sloppiness of his words that cause that crack in his screen.
But you didn’t want to underestimate him. He could get what he wanted easily in most circumstances.
His emotions usually got the best of him, yeah. But in this case? You weren’t sure. Is that what happened?
You wonder vaguely if he got caught up in the moment and blurted out the first thing he thought. But that would imply that, at least a part of his subconscious meant it.
No, you didn’t want that. In fact, you hoped it was just a tactic to get more out of you. That would make things a whole lot easier. 
Oh well, an issue for the morning, you supposed. In his sleep, Vox had turned over on his side, back pressed up to your stomach.
You gave into the fatigue and snuggled in closer to him, resting your head in the crook of his neck and wrapping your arms around his middle.
With one final sigh at the events of the night, you shut your eyes and waited for sleep to take you.
When you awoke, Vox was still asleep. But you were sure it was morning, maybe even past noon.
Patiently, you waited for a little while for Vox to wake before going to get coffee. However, after a good ten minutes, you figured he wasn’t done sleeping.
God, it had to be about tem hours now, you thought lazily as you stretch on the end of the bed. Poor guy had a rough night. 
With that, you head to the kitchen, pouring yourself and Vox, just in case, a cup of coffee. You do your usual morning routine, brushing your teeth, watching TV on the couch, things like that. 
After about an hour, and after reheating Vox’s coffee, you decide to head back into your room to check on him. 
He was sound asleep, screen completely dark and still curled up on his side. You sigh at the sight, he looked adorable. 
Once again, you climb into bed with him, holding him close to you. You plant a kiss on his neck and, finally, he stirs.
He arched his back, stretching and yawning as his screen powered on. Without thinking, he sleepily turned over in your arms and nuzzled into your neck.
He winced when your chin bumped the bandages on his screen. You rub his back and kiss his forehead, soothing him awake.
“Morning, sleeping beauty. How you feeling?” You speak softly, voice still gravely from not having spoken all day.
He hummed quietly, “Not great considering half of my face is gone.” 
And we’re back to snarky comments, but it was better than him crying. 
You nod your head and breathe out a laugh, “Yeah, well you look like you’re holding up pretty decently. Oh, I got you coffee.”
He doesn’t sit up, “Not yet.” 
“Are you sure? It might get cold—“
“Just not yet,” He looked up at you longingly, subconsciously holding onto your shirt tighter. “I just woke up, give me a minute before you shoving liquids down my throat.”��
In reality, Vox didn’t want a reason to get up. Although he appreciated the thought, he’d rather you not have gotten him coffee in the first place.
He had a terrible sinking feeling. One that told him, if you get up, you’ll never get this moment back. And he liked this moment; waking up in your arms, exchanging banter while still tired.
It all felt so domestic. Something that, usually, Vox wouldn’t like. But with you it felt different. It contrasted so heavily with his usual life, Valentino aside, just the stress of running Voxtech in general. 
And yeah, he didn’t feel perfectly right now, but he felt okay being taken care of like this. The idea of getting up and leaving was weighing on him.
Although with lack of better judgment, Vox waited for you to pick up on this. 
If you did, it wasn’t shown.
“You don’t have to run into work soon, do you?” you inquire, tracing up Vox’s back with your nails.
“Not today, no. Well, I mean, if I want a new screen then yes,” Vox paused, “But I don’t have to do that for a while.”
The last part was added quickly and uncharacteristically hesitant. You were starting to pick up on it now, his reluctance to leave.
You think for a moment, “You know, you could hang around the apartment for as long as you want too.”
He nodded, “Well, I don’t know if i’m in much of a state to leave, anyways. Damn… fucked up face.”
And with that it’s decided, Vox wasn’t going to leave until he felt like it. Which, for all either of you cared at the time being, could have been never.
The day passed in small sequences. Just as you suspected, Vox acted almost completely normal, as if his head injury had never happened. Even though it was clearly bothering him. 
However, he did surprise you in a couple ways. One, he was still here instead of in Valentino’s arms ‘making up’ and, more accurately, making out. And two, he was far more touchy than usual, in a physical sense. 
Every pat your back or hand on your shoulder lasted five seconds to long, lingering in an unbearably noticeable way. 
Although you continued the day fairly normally, despite these setbacks, Vox faced a dilemma.
A simple one, on the surface at least; the question of why you were helping him? If Vox wasn’t mistaken, and he so rarely was, you were supposed to be just a sex thing.
Then why did this feel like more? Why did he feel a deep desire for you, one that goes past getting his dick wet. He wanted you like this, kind and caring. He felt as if, at the moment, he needed it.
Almost a foreign feeling. Almost.
He knew all of the pride ring needed him for electricity, that was simple. He needed them for power in a more metaphorical sense.
And similarly, Valentino needed him too. And it was abundantly clear the feeling was mutual. What’d they get out of that? Sex, the support of a powerful individual, eachothers less-than-ideal company.
Much like that, he couldn’t quite place the origin of his need for you. But this felt different, it wasn’t codependency. It was a sense of unwarranted generosity, the lack of any overarching deal or necessity for one another out of greed or toxic attachment.
You treated him with kindness simply because you were kind. Now, that was a foreign feeling. He wondered vaguely if he would do the same for you. He hoped he would. In reality, he knew he wouldn’t.
Maybe he wasn’t cut out for this kind of life. But maybe, at this very moment in time, he didn’t care. He wasn’t really planning his every step from this point on, nor did he want to be.
Of course, usually, yes that would be the actions taken to ensure nothing bad comes of this. But a large part of him didn’t want to think about anything bad happening because of this.
That would make your relationship, whatever it was, just like everything he was holding it above. 
“You good there, Vox?” You smile over to him, snapping him out of his thoughts. 
You two sat on the couch together, watching tv lazily. Your knees were pulled up onto the couch, touching the base of his thighs. He on the other hand, didn’t look comfortable at all.
In fact, he looked tense.
You rub his shoulder encouragingly. He frowns deeply and diverts his gaze. Your smile. He was already getting used to your smile.
Although, he didn’t know how much time he had left with it. Knowing himself, no matter how hard he tried, Val would enter the picture again, just like he always does.
Just like how Vox always lets him. More than ‘lets,’ fully embraces, more like. He not only enables that behavior, he encourages it.
“I’m fine,” he answered shortly. Oh, very nice, he thought, i’m sure that snippy response wouldn’t push anyone away.
“Hey,” you say so softly that Vox winces at your gentleness, “Tell me what’s bothering you. Maybe I can try to fix it.”
Vox breathes out a bitter laugh and then points to his broken face, “Wow, I fucking wonder.” 
You frown and pull back, “I know that’s not all.” 
Vox stayed silent before leaning towards you and out stretching his arms slightly. It was a perfect indirect way of inviting a hug.
You accept, pulling him in and wrapping your hands around his middle, rubbing his back. He slinks his arms around your neck and scooting closer to you.
“I could go with you, you know?” You say quietly.
“Um, where?”
“Your office. To get the new screen? So you wouldn’t—“ so he wouldn’t have to be alone, but you don’t say that. You just imply it. “—so you wouldn’t have to drive there with half a face. Feels dangerous.”
He sunk deeper in your arms, almost letting out a sigh of relief, “That’s a good idea. Not exactly in the state to drive, if you can’t tell.”
You drive him to the Vees building and offer to wait in the car, but for whatever stupid reason, he insists you come in.
His not even particularly sure why, he just does. Vox is, in every other scenario, sure about everything he does. There’s always a reason for every move. 
But with you, that wasn’t necessarily true. That bothered him. 
The walk in is easy enough, same with the elevator ride to his office. Once you step into the terrible machine, you can’t help but get a terrible sinking feeling in your stomach. 
As if a fire-breathing dragon awaits the other side of the door to snatch Vox up and take him away. 
However, when the doors open, there is no dragon. There isn’t anyone. Just Vox’s office, to which he leads the way as you two walk in.
“This should just take a second. I know I put the fucker around here somewhere,” Vox shifts around in his desk cabinets for his new parts. 
That’s when you hear him. The silent calm in the room is broken when a voice calls from down the hall. 
You don’t hear what it says, nor do you really care about the specifics. The specifics don’t matter when you see the look on Vox’s face. 
It isn’t a fire breathing dragon, it isn’t even a monster. Simply, a moth. But oh, how you hated it.
Vox spares you a glance before calling back to the voice. In your mind, it doesn’t matter what he said either. In fact, it’s all relatively muffled. You know that was it, you know you just lost him. 
Whatever today was, it was over. Just as you suspected, the routine would kick back in. A good fuck, maybe some cuddling, not seeing each other for days at a time, rinse and repeat.
In truth, Vox was gone the second he stepped into his office. This was his environment, not the softly lit surroundings of your apartment.
The love he felt for you last night would be absent from his mind until the next time he comes to you to lick his wounds.
You shove your hands in your pockets. Vox spares you a hesitant glance before walking away to follow Valentinos voice. 
That was the difference between you too, Vox’s love was conditional, yours was not. 
It was as simple as that and, unfortunately, you both knew that. While as a part of Vox hated himself for it, you accepted it with an empty dullness.
You knew his ‘I love you’ wouldn’t last, just like you knew he wasn’t being truthful about how his screen broke.
After all, he was a bad liar.
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a/n — What if I said this fic takes place in the same timeline as my ‘I Could be a Better Boyfriend’ fic. And then what if I lied and said I was planning that all along?
What then?
also last minute edit but pretty sure @imsoboredlmfao wanted to be tagged so here it is!
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reiderwriter · 9 months
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can i request a fic of pining spencer reid and bau!reader who are brushing up on some hand to hand combat and reader is really invested on winning finally pins spencer down and reader is straddling spencer and they are both like 😳😳
the rest of the bau and other fbi agents are on the side making varies bets about who wins maybe too? (eg that miss congeniality scene)
A/N: Thank you for the request and omg thank you so much for this one specifically - I loved this idea. I had to make Spencer competitive too, because 😊 I wanted to.
Word count: 1.8k words
Warnings: none! Just fluff, however if anyone wanted to send a follow up request wanting a part two where there is some smut I'd be 100% okay with that... Just if you wanted to.
Part two
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When Morgan told you that, after an unfortunate shoulder injury you received on the job, you’d have to take another training course to prove that you were up to being back in the field, you almost resigned on the spot. Passing the first time hadn’t been the easiest feat for you, and while you were confident in your skills in the field, you knew that you were, to put it kindly, athletically challenged. 
“There’s no way to get out of it? No exceptions they can make to allow me into the field?” You asked, desperate to avoid Morgan putting you through the ringer. 
“I’m sorry, sweet cheeks, but they’re worried about your ability to perform under pressure, so I gotta push you today, okay? You’re not alone, at least.” 
“I’m not?” you gave the man a questioning look as you followed him to the changing rooms reluctantly. 
“Nah, they pulled up Reid and Garcia as well, you’ll all be doing the work together today.” 
“What that’s ridiculous! Penelope isn’t even in the field and Reid has never passed one of these things.” You throw your bag down on a bench, and look ahead of you into the equipment room, and sure enough, there they are, looks of equal dissatisfaction spread across their faces. 
“You’re preaching to the choir here, sweet cheeks. You’re in good hands though, I’m not going to push you too hard today.” Somehow you didn’t believe that. 
–X–
An hour later you were flat on your back, panting harder than you had in months, dripping with sweat and feeling an ache in your bones that you hadn’t felt ever. Next to you on the ground, you could hear your fellow torturee’s moaning in pain, presumably doing their best to stay conscious. 
“You know, chocolate thunder, I love you, I really do, but you make it very, very hard sometimes,” Penelope squeaked out as the other man chuckled from above you. “God I’m not even asthmatic but I think I need an inhaler.” 
You chuckled at that and pushed yourself up to a seated position. 
“I think I am asthmatic.” Reid said form his position on your other side. You stole a glance at him quickly before blushing and looking away. You didn’t have a crush on him, or at least that was what you were telling yourself, but you did have a keen appreciation for how he looked in his button down shirts and FBI vests. His hair was shorter now than when you first met, and the longer parts stuck to his face with sweat. You were lucky that the strength had been all but zapped from your body because given the chance, you’d be pushing his hair out of his face for him and get lost in his eyes. 
“Come on, guys. You finished cardio, you finished weights, all you got left is some simple self defense drills. Think you can handle that?” Morgan laughed from above you. 
“No! I haven’t been able to handle any of this, what makes you think I can do more?” Reid moaned out on the floor next to you. You stood up, reluctantly, holding out a hand out to the man and helping to pull him to his feet. 
You underestimate the help he needed to get up, though and he has to catch you in his arms as soon as he’s up, as you stumble into him, legs too weak. You blush as the two of you stay uncomfortably close for a few seconds, only pulling apart when Morgan lets out a sharp cough. You jump back from each other then, and pray to god that no one else in the room saw the puppy dog eyes you were unintentionally shooting up at him. 
“Okay, so there’s three of you, so I’ll join in for these sparring drills. Any volunteers?” 
“To tangle my limbs with yours all hot and sweaty on the floor? Sweetie, I thought you’d never ask.” You hadn’t seen Penelope move so fast all day, though you knew she was only half joking. 
“Okay, so Y/L/N, Reid, you head over to that mat over there. You’re going to start a hand-to-hand combat simulation, whoever pins the other down first wins. We’ll do best of three, okay?” 
Reluctantly, you made your way to the mat he indicated to, knowing that you weren’t going to have as much fun as Penelope any time soon. 
“You’re going to start in a common self-defense scenario. Reid, you’re going to be the assailant, you’re going to come up on Y/L/N from behind, okay?” You nodded at Morgan’s words and turned yourself away from Reid, feeling his presence at your back already. 
“Is this really necessary?” He questioned from behind you, and you could practically feel Morgan’s answering look on your back. Finally, he rested a light hand on your shoulder, and your session started. 
You grabbed the hand on your shoulder and twisted it, and yourself, behind his back, gaining the upper hand quickly. 
“Y/N, come on. Take it easy, I’m exhausted. Just let me pin you and we can call it a day.” Reid said from in front of you and your ears burnt at his suggestion. 
“Wait, why would I let you pin me? I have the upper hand right now.” He huffed out a breath and twisted his body underneath your arm, catching you off-guard as he swept your legs from underneath you. Before you could fall all the way down, though, he grabbed you around your waist and held you in what you assumed looked like a ballroom dancing dip. 
“You were saying?” You desperately wanted to wipe that arrogant smirk off of his lips. “Actually, I have a few years more experience in the field than you, and I was probably beaten up a lot more in high school, so I wouldn’t be too upset about losing to me, okay?” 
You returned his smile sarcastically for a second, before lifting and swinging the heel of your foot into his knee, forcing him to hit the mat as you scrambled out of his grip and repositioned yourself behind him, pulling him arm behind his back a second time in an attempt to subdue him. 
“If you have so much experience getting your ass kicked, Spence, why don’t you just let me do it?” You enjoyed feeding his words back to him as he moaned out a little. 
“Because something tells me you’d enjoy it a little too much.” He somehow slips from your grip again, swiping your legs out from underneath you and climbing over you. The two of you struggle for a few seconds on the floor, but he has your legs pinned with his own, and he forces your hands above your head. Your heads are even with one another, and you’re both breathing heavily now. 
You decide to take another approach to get out of his hold this time. Rolling your hips up into his slightly, you let your eyes rake over his body above you. 
“You sure you’re not enjoying this just as much, Reid?” you shoot him an innocent enough smile, but you can see the flush staining his skin, and he loosens his hold on you just enough to allow you to wrap your legs around his waist and use your bosy weight as leverage to flip your positions. 
Now he’s on his back below you and you sit up in triumph, straddling his lap. His arms fight to get yours pinned to your side but you give back just as much as he is, and you can feel the crowd forming around you. He decides to fight dirty as well. 
“Thought you’d enjoy being under me more than you’d like being on top. I was being a gentleman,” he huffs out and manages to flip you over once more, pushing up and wrapping his legs up over your knees and forcing you onto your back. Your legs are now spread wide for him, his crotch pushed against yours, his arms gripping yours and pushing them firmly into the mat. You struggle a few more times but you know this is it. He’s got you. 
“What? Not even going to let my hands go to let me tap out?” you huff out, blowing a stray piece of hair out of your eyes. He pins both of your hands with one of his and gently tucks the hair behind your ear for you as you burn up under his touch, suddenly at a loss for words. 
“What, and let you try to tackle me again? Maybe if you ask nicely, I’ll let you go.” 
“Y/L/N, Reid, if you’re finished over there, you can grab a drink and start over. I did say this was going to be best of three.” Both of you suddenly snap your eyes up to Morgan, who has one raised eyebrow pointed at you. You realise that you’ve also drawn the attention of the other gym-goers and scramble away from each other to the sound of chuckles and wolf whistles. 
“Shit,” you run a hand through your hair and get in position to go again, this time swapping with Reid so you take the position of the unsub. 
From a distance, you don’t realise that Penelope and Morgan have completely given up on their own drills. 
“Twenty bucks says Reid gives in and kisses her first,” she whispers to her companion. 
“The kid? No way, he’s being too cocky for that. I reckon Y/N will do it to try and distract him first.” 
“I’ll take that bet,” Garcia says, and they settle back into watching the two of you, completely oblivious to the fact that you’re both enjoying sparring a little bit more than you normally would be. 
“When do you think I should tell them that they never needed to do this training session in the first place?” 
“Derek Morgan, if you are admitting right now that you made me walk through hell and back just so you could force these two beautiful idiots whom I love to recognise their feelings for each other then I am going to murder you and then bring you back to life so I can kiss you for being so smart.” 
“So I shouldn’t tell them?” 
“Take it to the grave, baby.” 
They turned their attention back to you, suddenly way more invested in how this was going to turn out.
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andvys · 3 months
Text
Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.
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Chapter four ⭐︎ Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness
Warnings: angst, mentions of death, mentions of loss, allusions to depression, fear of loss, hurt/comfort. reader calls her sister 'twinkie', mentions of abuse, mentions of sex
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Summary: As Steve shows up on your doorsteps with an apology, you let him see more of just the you he already knows
Word count: 7.6k+
Author's note: shoutout to my co-writer (shut up, you wrote the dialogues and ideas with me, don't say anything) @hellfire--cult
Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter
Breathe in. Breathe out.
His heart was pounding, his body was shaking, his eyes wide, blinking rapidly as he stared at the same exact spot. The dried blood on his hands was starting to make him feel sick. It was Eddie’s blood. He hadn’t cleaned it off yet, he was still in shock, still in pain after what they had all gone through. 
Eddie made it, he was going to be okay, his injuries were bad and he was losing blood, a lot of blood, but he would be okay. And yet, Steve had felt anything but it. 
He almost lost a friend, he almost lost Max, he almost lost… you. 
He was sitting down beside you, though he couldn’t bring himself to look up and face you. You looked so… dead. Your skin lost its color, and the bandage around your head was new, yet there was a blood stain already. The machines were beeping beside you, it was the only sound in the room. 
And then the door opened, only then did he lift his head to look up, expecting it to be your parents or maybe your sister but it was only Nancy. A cup of coffee from the machine outside in her hand, a sad look still resting on her features. 
“Hey,” she whispered as she walked towards him, handing him the cup, “here, I didn’t know what you liked so I just got you a regular coffee.”
They’d been together for over a year and she couldn’t even remember what he liked. Should he even be surprised? No. A small thing like this still managed to hurt him. 
“Thanks, Nance,” he mumbled as he tried to give her a smile. He reached for the cup, ignoring the way it felt when his fingers brushed hers, how his heart had fluttered despite her rejection only a few hours back. 
She cleared her throat and looked away, sitting down at the end of the bed, she looked at you. 
He took a sip of the hot coffee as he leaned back in the chair, he avoided looking at you still, instead he kept his focus on her, the way he always did. There was disbelief, anger and sadness flashing in her eyes as she stared at you. 
“I can’t believe that Jason did that to her,” she whispered, “I knew I saw something in his eyes, I just didn’t think that he was this violent.” 
Steve nodded. 
He too was still in disbelief. 
You survived the night in the upside down, you fought off bats, didn’t even bat an eye when one of them got you good, but Jason, you almost didn’t survive him. And Steve felt so much rage as he sat there and thought of the guy that almost murdered you. 
“Yeah, me neither.”
There are monsters in different dimensions, in dark worlds, ones that do not know of a different way of living, they exist to kill because it is in their nature. But sometimes there are worse monsters, ones that hide behind kind eyes, ones that are raised into a world that should be more humane but because of them, it never will be. This world will always be just as dark as all the other ones that exist in secret. Jason was one of the monsters that got to you. 
This world is a hell just like the ones he and his friends had been dragged into but there’s still kindness left, peace and order. Though, Steve couldn’t help but wonder what this world would have turned into if Vecna had won. 
He would have brought endless war and chaos on this planet and people would have followed, they would have turned against each other so quickly. Everything would have crumbled into pieces. 
Shivers ran down his spine as he thought of what could’ve happened had they not stopped him. You were a part of it all, you helped in stopping him, had you not been at the Creel house, things could’ve gone sideways so easily. 
“Hey,” Steve whispered, clearing his throat. “Thank you… You know, for jumping into the water and saving my ass back there.”
Nancy furrowed her brows, a soft laugh fell from her lips, she looked away from you and turned to face him, shaking her head a little. 
“Everyone did.. And, she did first. She jumped first on the boat and she jumped first into the water, then I followed, then Robin and then Eddie.” 
His eyes widened, flashed with confusion as he tilted his head at her. 
“Huh? Who jumped first?” 
Nancy’s blue eyes were filled with confusion, her bangs fell in front of her eyes as she turned back to you, saying your name. 
You were the first to jump. 
You were the one to go after him first. 
You wanted to save him. 
How could he throw such horrible words at you after what you had done for him? After risking your life to save him? 
He wouldn’t even be able to begin to describe the guilt that kept him up all night. He wanted nothing more than to drive over to your place and apologize, even if he would have to drop to his knees, he would. 
But Max had told him that it was better to wait, to give you the time that you need, so that’s what he did. But he was going crazy, the guilt and the regret were eating at him, making him feel worse and worse with each passing second. 
Going to work that day had been torture as well, he was nervous and restless, he kept bouncing his knee and tapping his pen against the unmarked crossword in front of him. His mind was forcing him to think of you, of the look in your eyes, of the tears and the hurt. He felt so awful, he felt like King Steve again and he is someone he despises, just the way he despises himself, right this second. 
Robin told him to leave before he could even finish his shift, knowing that all he wanted was to set things straight, to make things right with you. 
And here he is now, standing on your porch with a racing heart and sweaty palms. 
He doesn’t know how you will react to seeing him here, but knowing you, he is certain that you will slam the door in his face – he’d deserve it. 
He rang the doorbell once before, but you didn’t open it. He wonders if you saw his car in your driveway already. He rings it again, hoping for you to open, hoping for you to give him a chance so he can… try, try to make it up to you. 
He tugs at his hair, feeling more and more stressed the longer it takes you to open. As he stands there, staring at the wooden door, he realizes that it’s only the second time that he stands here, on your porch, on the doorsteps of a big house, just as big as the one he lives in, if not bigger. The inside of your home is just as much of a mystery to him as you are. 
Steve knows nothing about you, absolutely nothing and he still opened his mouth and threw words at you that you didn’t deserve – even when you pushed him, even when you were being mean to him, you had never sunk so low just to hurt him, not once. 
After he got all this anger off his chest, you were no longer the girl he saw before, you were someone else, someone vulnerable, someone heartbroken and that hurt even more to think about. 
He gets pulled out of his thoughts when you finally open the door. He snaps his head up and his eyes meet yours for the first time that day. 
He had seen you in a bad state before, after your fight with Jason Carver, after the surgery that saved your life, you looked bad. Your skin was marked with bruises and scars, you had that traumatized look in your eyes that no one dared to even mention. You barely ate or talked for the first few days, whether it was because of the surgery or the trauma that Carver had left you with, you were in a bad, bad state. 
But he had never seen you like this before. 
Not even the sadness from last night was this strong as the one in your eyes now. They are glassy, a mix of anger and hurt swirling in them. Your lips are puffy just like your eyes, from all the crying. Your hair is messy, a big hoodie that doesn’t even seem to belong to you hanging loosely on your form. 
Another pang of guilt hits him at the sight of you. 
You stare at each other for a long moment before you try to slam the door shut again, but he jumps forward, pressing his palm against it, “Blondie, please! I just want to talk!” 
He hears your sniffle, like you’re trying not to cry again. You stop pushing against the door but you don’t pull away either, you don’t let him see you. 
“There’s nothing to talk about,” he hears you say. 
“I-I just want to apologize, I was an asshole to you and you didn’t deserve it. I messed up.. fuck..” He squeezes his eyes shut, feeling desperate to fix this between you two, “I’m sorry, I’m really fucking sorry, Blondie.” 
“Y-You’re forgiven, now please leave..”
The weakness in your voice makes him feel like the worst person alive, knowing that he is the cause of your suffering, right now. 
How did you feel last night? 
“No,” he begs, shaking his head as though you could see him, “please just let me in, I-I want to talk to you, I want to fix it, please let me fix it.” 
You are silent on the other side of the door, you don’t move, you don’t speak. You hesitate. And it feels like forever that he stands here with a pounding heart, willing you to open the door and let him see you, talk to you. 
Without a word, you open the door and you step aside, crossing your arms over your chest. 
He swallows the lump in his throat, blinking as he takes in the sight of you, once again. 
You stare at him with both impatience and annoyance now, wanting to get this over with quickly, while he wants time – time with you. 
He had never felt such desperation before, especially now that he sees you. 
“There’s nothing to fix, it’s okay, you told me what you–”
He says your name, and he says it so desperately that it shuts you up. 
“I won’t leave until I can properly apologize to you.” 
You blink, your upper lip twitches and you take a moment, staring at him for what feels like forever until you nod. 
“Fine..”
“Can I come in?”
“Yeah,” you whisper. 
He takes a deep breath before he steps inside the house he has never been in before, he closes the door behind him and he can’t help but look around, taking in the sight of the big hallway, the wide stairs are on the right side, pictures hang on the wall all the way up to the second floor, there is one that is slightly bigger than the others, and even from afar, he recognizes you – you are no older than twelve in that picture, you wore a wide smile on your face, pigtails that were tied with pink bows at the end, you were wearing a dress and you looked happy in a way he had never seen before. Your big sister was next to you, holding your hand as your parents stood behind you both, the smiles were genuine, even on their faces. 
Only as he stares at the picture, does he realize that he has never actually seen your parents before. 
“Are your parents home?” He asks without looking at you, still questioning 
You hesitate. 
“No… I uh, do you want something to drink?” You ask awkwardly, not knowing what else to say or do.
Steve is too busy staring at the picture, trying to remember your parents, wondering why they didn’t come to visit you at the hospital, only your sister came to see you.
When he looks down at you, away from the picture of the girl that once looked so happy, he now sees a broken one, for the first time, he sees past those glares and cold looks. 
He runs his fingers through his hair. 
“I-I’m sorry… I’m really sorry about all the awful shit I said to you last night, I was angry a-and I let it out on you and you did not deserve this, you really didn’t deserve any of the words I threw at you.” 
You blink, and you press your lips together just like you did before, just like you did last night. 
“It’s okay–”
“No, I said things that I had no clue about and I never wanna do that again. I just, I want to understand you.. I want to get to know you because.. fuck, I’m realizing how much I’m hurting you.”
Your eyes soften and you genuinely look surprised at his words, eyeing him as you stay silent. 
You don’t blame him, he’s not at fault, not entirely. He knows nothing about you or your life, so how could he know that those words would cause so much damage? 
You carry guilt, just like he does. 
You both kept throwing knives at each other, hitting one target after the other but you were both blindfolded to the pain you were causing to each other. 
You shift, pulling at the sleeves of the sweater you are wearing, you close your eyes for one second, taking a deep breath, before you open them again and look up at Steve. 
“What do you want to know?” You ask, surprising him with your words. 
He expected you to be more stubborn than this, but you seem willing to let him get to know you, the real you. 
“Anything you want to give me really.. so… I just want to stop hurting you without me realizing it… I don’t… I need to stop hurting you, Blondie.”
You look at him, really look at him, and you notice that he looks just as bad as you do. His hair is messy – a very unusual sight for him. He has dark circles under his eyes, like he hasn’t slept all night and his eyes are filled with guilt.
With a sigh, you tilt your head into the direction of the living room, motioning him to follow. You turn on the lamp on the dresser, making the room appear lighter, it’s gloomy outside and the rain has been falling all morning, it only just stopped. 
“Sit,” you mumble, pointing to the couch, “wait here.” 
He nods at you and sits down, he watches you leave the room again and listens to your footsteps as you make your way upstairs. He looks around, there are fewer pictures around here, though still enough for him to get curious about your parents again. There’s a bouquet of fresh flowers on the small table in front of him – Daisies. A throw blanket lays on the other end of the couch, an open book next to it, were you reading when he got here?
It doesn’t take you long to come back into the room. 
Steve’s brows furrow a little when he sees the shoebox in your hand, you place it in front of him and take a deep breath as you look into his eyes, pointing to the box. 
“Here’s everything you need to know about me.”
His lips part at your words. 
“You can look, I’ll tell you anything you want to know and then we can… move past all of this and go back to the way things were before yesterday.” 
He blinks, noticing how your shoulders slumped a little, you don’t want to go back to the way things were, and neither does he. He enjoys the bickering but not when it means that he is hurting you. 
You break eye contact, and turn around, “I’m gonna get us something to drink, feel free to look..” 
And with that, you leave again and Steve, he stares at the box for a while, feeling like he is about to intrude, despite you telling him to open it, to look inside, he still feels like he is intruding. But his curiosity gets the best of him, he removes the lid carefully and puts it down on the table. 
Polaroid Pictures. 
So many of them. The box is filled, all the way up to the top with pictures of friends and family. The first one that catches his eye is the one of you and Max. He reaches for it, bringing it closer. You are both smiling into the camera, Max is wearing her red sunglasses and you are wearing your heart shaped ones, an ice cream cone in her hand and a can of diet pepsi in yours – he can’t help but smile as he stares at it, you looked so happy. 
The date was written under the picture, with a pink sharpie: May 7th 1985. 
He places the picture down, reaching for the next one. 
This one doesn’t have you on it, only your sister, with a black cat on her lap – Luna, the cat’s name was Luna, he overheard you talking about her to Max. And your sister, he doesn’t remember her actual name, only the nickname you called her when she came to see you at the hospital; Twinkie. He almost laughed at that, the first time he heard it.
The next one is one of you and your dad at the beach, he recognizes him from the picture in the hallway. Both of you were holding surfboards. Your eyes shone with happiness, a bright grin on your face, your dad’s arm was wrapped around your shoulder. In this picture, you looked even happier than in the one from last year. – This one was taken in the summer of 1981, you were only fourteen. 
He flinches a little when you place a soda can in front of him, “here, I found some coke in the fridge, figured you’d prefer that.” 
He raises his brows and then looks at the pepsi you’re holding in your hand. 
“Oh, thanks,” he mumbles, trying to smile. 
You nod at him as you sit down beside him, looking at the picture that he’s holding. 
“We spent the summer in California, my parents had a summer house in Monterey.” 
“Had?”
You nod. 
“Yeah,” you whisper as sadness takes over your features, a sadness he hadn’t seen before. It’s not the kind that he had seen last night. It’s one that reminds him of grief, like the one on Max’s face when she mentions Billy. 
Oh no. 
“My sister sold it last year, I asked her not to but.. for some reason that house gave her more painful memories than this one,” you say as you gesture to the room you sit in, you lean forward, placing your drink on the table as you reach for a picture in the box, “that was.. that was two weeks before they uh.. got into an accident.” 
You hand him a picture but he can’t look at it yet, too busy staring at you and at the way you try to hide the tears in your eyes. 
Steve’s heart aches in his chest, the guilt eating at him like never before. 
“I-I’m so sorry, Blondie,” he whispers as he slowly looks down at the picture, at your parents who both smiled into the camera. That one was also taken in the summer of 1981.
Steve started to feel a little sick as the seconds went by, at each picture that he looked at.
“Twinkie and I took the flight back with our grandparents, we wanted to spend one more week with them in Indianapolis before going back to Hawkins, we didn’t know that this would be the last time we’d ever see them.” 
His heart no longer aches at your words, it breaks for you. He didn’t know this, he never knew anything about you. You lost your parents when you were so young, right before your first year in high school. 
Now he understands why you had always looked so.. lost. 
Why you had been so rude and unapproachable. You pushed people away while you were grieving, you didn’t want anyone to see.
He doesn’t know what to say, no words will give you the comfort that you still clearly need. 
“I-I never knew.”
You chuckle as you look at him, still blinking away those tears, “I didn’t want anyone to know, especially not when it just happened.”
“Why not?”
“I’d forever be the girl that lost her parents, and honestly, I’d rather have the whole school hate me than give me pitiful looks.”
“Of course,” he mumbles, shaking his head at you. 
“What?” 
“Nothing,” he shrugs, running his fingers through his messy hair after he puts the picture down, “you’re just so… I don’t know, it’s just.. classic you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, not with anger in your voice but with curiosity. 
“Well, you’d rather have the whole world hate you than let them see you vulnerable.” 
You shake your head at him and his eyes meet yours as he turns back. There is that look in your eyes, the one that reminds him that he doesn’t know anything about you. 
“I let some see.” 
Right. Some. 
He nods and looks away. 
He’s surely not one of those that you let see.
When he reaches for the next picture, he freezes, staring at the two little girls with wide eyes. It’s not hard to figure out who the one next to you is. Strawberry blonde hair, the two front teeth way too big for the small face, she was wearing a cheerleader costume – not knowing that she would’ve become cheer captain years later. Chrissy Cunningham. 
The girl next to you was Chrissy, you were hugging each other from the side, giggling. 
He looks at you, you were wearing a fairy costume, green and pink colors on the dress, and your smile was big. You looked happy. 
He shakes his head a little, not understanding what he sees in front of him. 
He had never seen you and Chrissy around each other, not even once. In fact, he rarely ever saw you around anyone for that matter. Sometimes he saw you talking to Jonathan, something that gave him more of a reason to dislike you back then, he’d throw the word ‘freaks’ at the two of you whenever he passed by you. The memories of that fill him with guilt and regret, he always wishes that he could turn back time and change things, change the way he acted. 
But he never ever saw you even talking to Chrissy.
He slowly turns to face you, holding up the polaroid, “y-you and Chrissy knew each other?”
You only glance at the picture before you look down, “yeah, we were childhood best friends, we grew apart but… we still kept in touch. She’d stay over sometimes.” you explain, not meeting his eyes.
You lost your parents. You lost a friend. 
His words from last night echo in his mind and the guilt crashes over him, harder than before. 
No words appear before him, what can he say that will make you feel better in the slightest? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. 
But the monsters have gotten to her without her knowing about them.
That’s what Max had told him. Now he understands. Even more so, when a different picture catches his eye, one that shocks him even more than the previous one. 
Only this time, he doesn’t just freeze, he feels a shiver running down his spine and his chest feels weird, all of a sudden. Because the guy in the picture isn’t someone he ever expected you around with. 
He takes it, between his thumb and his forefinger, bringing it closer with a shaky hand. He blinks, like he can’t believe what he is seeing, but it’s real, it’s so very real. No amount of blinking will transform the guy into someone else. It’s unmistakably Billy Hargrove in your collection of polaroids, a collection that reminds you of the people you loved. The box of memories that is frozen in time. 
Billy is sitting on the hood of his car, a cigarette held between his fingers as he snickered at the camera. It was taken back in 1984. 
You were friends with Billy Hargrove? 
He can’t even utter a single word, just reaching for the next picture which is just another one of him. 
Billy was lying on the grass, probably in your backyard, his eyes were barely open but he was smiling into the camera, with a thumbs up in the air. It’s clear that he was drunk when you took that picture. 
He feels your eyes on him, he notices you shifting on the couch as you lean back, still looking at him. He doesn’t turn to face you, not yet. Too curious to find more pictures of Billy, he doesn’t expect the next ones to be more intimate than the ones before. 
He stares at the one of you first, it looks as though you have cried, but you are smiling, and the only thing that covered your body was a blanket, while pushing the camera out of your face. 
And for a moment, Steve can’t help but think how beautiful you look in this picture with your hair all messy, your exposed skin looking so soft and glowy beneath dim lights, and a smile so content. 
But the picture of Billy makes him frown. He was sitting on your bed, shirtless and with a cigarette between his lips, his eyes were red but he was smiling just like you were. 
It’s obvious what happened before these pictures were taken and he can’t shake the weird feeling in his gut, the longer he looks at them. 
Were you and Billy dating? 
Is that why you have been so miserable since last summer? Because he was just another name on the list of people you have lost?
As though you can read his mind, you lean closer to him, reaching for the first picture you ever took of him, the one where he sits on the hood of his car. 
“I ran into Billy at Big Buy’s, well, behind the building. He was smoking a cigarette and he was crying. I hadn’t seen him before, it was the weekend before school started again. I approached him and he obviously tried to scare me off, but… fucker didn’t know who he was talking to,” you chuckle. “He was being rude, like really rude, calling me names and trying to get me to leave, I stepped on his foot and he yelped, literally yelped. I left after that but uh, after that, we just started pestering each other at school and then one day, he showed up here, with a bleeding nose and a busted lip, he didn’t know where else to go.”
Steve watches you, the way your eyes are filled with sadness as you look at the pictures in front of you. 
“It took him a while but eventually, he opened up to me, about his dad and everything.”
He knows about Billy’s dad, about the abuse, the emotional and physical abuse. Max told him all about it. 
“So uh, then that happened,” you murmur, awkwardly, not meeting his eyes as you point to the pictures of the two of you only covered by the sheets. 
“Were you two dating?” He asks, and somehow he feels a knot in his stomach at that question. 
You scrunch your face up at his words, almost in a way that makes him laugh. You shake your head at him. 
“Fuck no. We weren’t even attracted to each other. I just, at that point we were close and I trusted him so uh.. I just wanted to do it with someone that I felt comfortable with and uh, the beer helped too, I guess,” you say with a small smile on your lips.
Steve turns away from you, biting the insides of his cheeks, the knot slowly undoing itself in his belly.
“We never mentioned it again after this, it wasn’t awkward or anything, we were just.. best friends.” 
There is no bitterness in your voice, he notices. You had no feelings for Billy and that for some reason, and that for some reason makes his shoulders relax.
He looks back at you when he feels your eyes on him, your smile has fallen.
“He came to my house… you know.. after he beat you up and he was drugged by Max.”
He raises his eyebrows, pursing his lips. 
“What?”
“I told him that it was wrong, what he did, that you did the right thing, that I told him time and time to lay off Max. Damn, I even slapped him across his head when he broke her skateboard.”
His eyes soften, and his lip twitches. 
“I-I was doing the right thing?”
“You protected Lucas. When I found out how he was treating him I got so mad at him, we got into a fight and I didn’t talk to him for days. I just hated what he did to him and to Max,” you mumble, breaking eye contact when the look in his eyes gets a little too intense for you. You also didn’t like what Billy did to Steve, but he doesn’t need to know that. “Billy he was.. driven by his father’s words and actions. The abuse turned him into that. He was vulnerable with me, but– the anger was still inside of him… bright red.”
As Steve looks back at the pictures, he realizes that he had never seen Billy like this, happy, smiling. He almost looks like a different person. Regret floods through him, he can’t help but wish that he would’ve gotten to know this side of Billy, the one that you knew, maybe things would’ve gone differently if he did, maybe Max wouldn’t have lost her brother. 
“I never saw Hargrove like this.”
“No one did,” you shrug, “only me, sometimes Max. I-I tried to change him and his dumb views but Billy was just.. stubborn and angry.” You shake your head, blinking away the tears that welled up in your eyes, you close them and tilt your head down. “A-And then he pushed me away when he.. when he was possessed.” 
Steve notices the way your voice got so much more shaky than before, how you seem to be on the verge of tears. 
“Max,” he whispers, now understanding why or who the reason was for your friendship. 
“Yeah… Max. We received letters, well, notes from Billy,” you mumble. 
He watches how you bring your hand up to your face, wiping away the tears with the sleeves before you reach for something in the box, a folded piece of paper that you hand to him. 
“He told me to stay away in mine, all messy, but he said that he didn’t hate me, that he could never..”
Steve doesn’t open the note, your words are enough, he doesn’t want to intrude more than he already did, he understands this enough. Billy pushed you away to keep you safe, and he did it with cruel words to keep you away, because he knew that that would work with you. 
Steve is at a loss for words.
“And Max, he called her his sister in hers. She didn’t read the note until a few weeks later though.”
Steve’s eyes widen, and it all clicks in his head. 
Why Max had been suffering as much as she did in those months after Billy’s death, why she seemed more depressed than ever when the summer was over. 
“Is that why you are so close with her? … For Billy?” 
“Yeah,” you whisper, nodding. “She’s like a sister to me, I’d do anything for her.”
And you did. You did and you almost gave your life protecting her. 
“And I almost lost her too.”
Just like everyone else you loved and cared about. 
Steve’s words did more damage than he thought they did, and they echo in his mind, over and over again. 
Don’t you ever ask yourself why you don’t have anyone? Why no one bothers to stick around because I’d be really surprised if someone did. 
The nausea that fills him almost overwhelms him, it almost knocks the breath out of him. He swallows harshly, and he starts to put the polaroids back into the box, blinking as he looks at each and every one of them again. 
His eyes linger on the one of you smiling, the one from the year before. When you found your happiness again when a new friend had stepped into your life. 
Steve couldn’t stand Billy Hargrove, he really couldn’t stand him, but his death was cruel and even he didn’t deserve what happened to him and you didn’t deserve to lose another person you cared about. 
You lost. You lost people, you lost family, you lost friends and you lost your spark, your happiness. And now he understands why you are the way that you are. Why you keep pushing everyone away, you’re scared to lose again, scared to get too close to someone only to watch them being taken away from you. 
As he stares at your smile, he can’t help but frown at the picture in his hand because he will never get to see this. He will never see you like this with him and in this moment, he can’t help but envy those who will. 
“You are right.” His voice sounds small, filled with regret, filled with sadness and hurt.
“Huh?”
“I don’t know what loss is. I– shit. I don’t know if I could have handled it like you did.”
You feel your eyes burning at his words and before you can even try to blink your tears away, one falls from your eye. 
Steve’s eyes soften when he hears your sniffle, he watches the tear roll down your cheek. He moves without thinking, raising his hand up to your face, he catches the tear with his thumb.  
You freeze and your lips part in surprise, his touch giving you butterflies despite what happened yesterday. 
His touch feels so foreign on your skin, yet comforting and warm, like something that you have been craving and longing for since always. You slowly turn to face him and only then, does he realize what he did. 
His cheeks flush red and his eyes fill with embarrassment, he clears his throat and pulls his hand away from your face, not knowing that this makes you feel empty again. 
“I’m sorry too,” you whisper, apologizing to him, for the first time. “Knowing that they’re alive yet still deciding to leave you behind.. that’s not easy either.”
He appreciates your words and his lip twitches, he shrugs, trying to play it off – The pain he always endured by himself and never voiced out, and he won’t start doing it now. It’s done with.
“I have the kids and Robin.”
“Right,” you whisper as you push yourself up, unable to sit here with him any longer, you reach for the box, ignoring the confused look that he gives you, “they take care of you.” 
He noticed the sarcastic tone at that last phrase, but he nodded either way. 
“Okay uh, time to go, Lego head. I need a shower.”
This time, he can’t help but smile at the nickname. 
“Okay, Blondie.”
You lead him back out into the hallway, avoiding the hazel eyes that fill your heart with nothing but sadness and longing. 
You feel your heart pounding, your eyes still burning as you feel yourself nearing the edge of yet another breakdown this day. 
“Hey,” Steve whispers, taking a hold of your arm he pulls you back so he can see your face again. 
“Yeah?” 
Your eyes show him so much and now he can’t help but wonder if these emotions have always been there and he was just too blind to see them or if you only showed them now. 
“I’m really sorry about everything,” he whispers. 
Your lips twitch, though not into a smile. 
“Me too, Steve.”
He keeps holding your arm, ignoring the wish to hold you instead. 
“Are we.. good?” 
His question makes you laugh and you squint your eyes. 
“When have we ever been good?”
He rolls his eyes, though he can’t help but smile. He brings his left hand up, running his fingers through his messy hair.
There is that look in his eyes, the one that shows you that he is thinking about something, deeply. 
“Do I still call you Blondie…?” He asks as he realizes that he had always called you by a name that must have taken you back to a time where you had felt the saddest, the loneliest. You were fifteen when you had bleached your hair and tried out new styles, all the time. He never knew that it was something that you needed to do, to distract yourself from the grief. You had no friends, no one to talk to, no one to be with. You only had that – box dye, makeup and new clothes every week. 
Oh. 
You swallow the lump in your throat, digging your nails into your palm. He knows. 
“I would be mad if you didn’t. It’s weird when you say my name, Harrington.” 
He chuckles, shaking his head a little.
“Yeah yeah, Blondie, keep acting like you don’t like it.”
You smile, though it doesn’t reach your eyes and he can see it.”
“I guess we’re still Lego head and Blondie then, huh?” He asks, snorting. 
“Always.”
He licks his lips, nodding. 
“Always,” he chuckles as he lets go of you and walks towards the door, he opens it, but he doesn’t step out, right away. He looks back at you, one more time, “you know, I didn’t mean a single thing that I said to you, last night. And I’ll do anything for you to believe me. B-But, I think that you’re amazing and the people that had the chance to get to know you… the real you were really fucking lucky.” 
He leaves you with those words, closes the door and walks away from you. 
And you stare at the front door for what feels like forever before you finally break into tears. You were pushing away your pain and your sadness but the fight from last night, his presence and his words have made it all so much worse again. 
You bury your face in your hands as you sit down on the stairs, letting tears fall that you haven’t felt in ages but instead of relief, you feel frustration running through you. You didn’t miss this, you didn’t miss this for a single second. 
There is a knock on the front door and it fills you with annoyance when you expect it to be Steve again. 
Wiping your tears with anger, you rip open the door, expecting to see him again but instead it’s Max on your doorstep. Max and Eddie. 
You blink, looking between them, back and forth. 
Max’s blue eyes fill with worry as she looks into your glassy eyes. 
Eddie smiles at you, despite matching the look in her eyes. 
“Hey, you didn’t let me come in yesterday so I assumed that if I brought Red here you would let us in,” he says, still smiling cheekily. “We brought movies and got your favorite snacks,” he points to Max’s backpack.
You don’t know what comes over you, but the kind smile on his face, of the guy that has been trying desperately to be your friend, makes you want to continue crying. You don’t know how, but you keep your tears at bay.
You know that they can see that you were crying, but it brings you comfort to know that neither of them will push you to talk about anything. 
“Hey guys,” you try to put on your best smile as you greet them, you step aside without another word.
Eddie’s smile widens, he bumps his shoulder into Max. 
“Hey,” she smiles, still eying you worriedly, “are you okay?”
“Yeah,” you nod, placing your hand on her shoulder, “I’m okay.” 
She doesn’t look convinced but she doesn’t push you to talk, she doesn’t ask any more questions either. She just walks straight into the living room. 
“She feels at home, huh?” Eddie chuckles. 
“It’s basically her second home so yeah,” you laugh. 
His brown eyes take you in, his lips twitch but his smile doesn’t fall. He looks like he wants to say something but he doesn’t speak up. 
You both follow Max into the living room, expecting her to be unpacking the snacks but instead she stands there frozen in place as she stares at the box of polaroids.
Your eyes widen and in panic, you rush over to the coffee table, wanting to close the box. 
“S-Shit, I’m sorry–”
“No!” She grabs your hand before you reach for the lid. “I-It’s okay, I’m okay. A-Are you though?” She asks as she looks away from the pictures of Billy. 
Eddie looks between you two, furrowing his brows as he takes a step closer. He looks into the box and his eyes widen instantly. 
“Holy shit, is that–”
“Eddie don’t,” Max warns him.
You shake your head, “no.. no, it’s okay, Max.”
Eddie doesn’t even look at Max or you, he is staring at the picture of her brother, in shock. 
“I-I promise, it’s okay,” you mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose as you feel your heart starting to pound again, “I just.. I need some fresh air, I’ll be right back.” 
You leave the room, rushing out of the house. You sit down on the porch steps, taking a deep breath. The earthy smell that lingers after the rain comforts you a little. 
You knew you wouldn’t get more than a minute to yourself, because only moments later, the door opens. You know that it’s Eddie, you hear the flick of his lighter, and seconds later, the smell of smoke fills the air, mixing with the smell of the after rain. 
You hear his footsteps and then he sits down next to you. Without a word, he offers you the cigarette. You take it, placing it between your lips, you take a drag and blow out the smoke. 
Eddie doesn’t talk, he just wants you to know that he is here because he wants to be, he wants to be your friend but you don’t want to lose him too. 
“I lost a lot of people I cared about, Eddie.. Every single one of them, my parents, Chrissy, Billy.. I almost lost Max and you too,” You trail off, taking another drag before you hand him back the cigarette. “And I can’t lose any more people, Eds.”
He stares at you with his big sad eyes that you can’t bring yourself to look into for longer than two seconds. 
“I feel like I’m fucking cursed or something. Everything that I touch immediately rots. That’s why I just.. I keep pushing you away because I already lost a best friend.. so just please.” 
He sees the way you’re blinking, the way your hands are shaking just like your voice is. He knows what you’re asking of him and he only shakes his head in response, moving closer to you as he feels his own eyes burning. 
You’re his friend, a friend that he doesn’t want to lose either. 
“Nah.. It will take a whole swarm of demobats to rip me away from you. And even then, hey, I will still survive, already did once,” he tries to crack a joke but only makes you tear up even more. 
You finally turn to face him, looking into the kind eyes of your friend before your eyes move down to his neck, to the bandaid that covers his scar. 
“But–”
“No buts. You are not cursed. You are not responsible for anything that happened to those people. It’s okay to feel sad, it’s okay to hurt, it’s okay to love, Darling. Let yourself do it,” he says, smiling as he throws his cigarette on the pavement before he wraps his arms around you, bringing you closer, “and stop pushing me away, please.”
Your bottom lip trembles and the tears flow like a waterfall, you stop fighting it, you stop fighting him and you let him pull you into his arms, closing your eyes as you lay your head on his chest, letting yourself fall into the hug that you so desperately need. 
“Let it out, sweets.”
The soothing tone in his voice makes you cry even harder, your tears seep through his shirt but he doesn’t mind, he rubs your back and holds you. Your heart is crying, your brain is banging, your breaths are cut short thanks to your sobs, but it’s something you needed. And even through all of that, you are feeling so relieved, so light at each sob that rips out of your throat. 
And when you feel Max’s hand in yours, her head on your shoulder as Eddie still holds you, you know that everything will be okay, that you will be okay. You might not need anything else for now… these two people right here are making you feel fuller than you ever felt in the past year.
You won’t lose them. 
You won’t have to live without them. 
They will be more than just a short time. 
tagging friends and mutuals:
@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @sherrylyn628 @livosssblog
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verstappen-cult · 2 months
Note
Hi! I saw you taking request for Max and I just got this idea for a scenario where Max and reader got into a fight so the reader opted to drive on their own and got into an inchident nothing serious or whatever floats your boat HAHAHAHA just looking for angst Max
Max was trying to call you to when he received the call that made his world stopped.
You’ve been in an accident.
He can still hear the nurse talking through the phone as he grabs his keys and flies out of his apartment. He doesn’t understand a single thing the woman says because all he can think about is you, and how things were between you two when you decided to go out.
Max feels stupid. He doesn’t even remember what your fight was about anymore. If it was something important it doesn’t matter; you’re all that matters.
He arrives at the hospital in record time and is pretty sure he will receive a ticket for running red lights.
Max hates hospitals. And now that you’re here, he hates them even more.
“Hey, hello?” He walks to the counter where he can see a few nurses. He’s shaking and feels like crying, he needs to see you right now. “My girlfriend had an accident. Her name’s Y/N.”
The nurse smiles softly at him and grabs a notebook. “Are you related to her?”
“I’m her boyfriend.” Max taps his fingers on the counter, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. “Can I see her, please? I really need to see her.” Max doesn’t care if he comes across as whiny and annoying, he just wants to see you.
The nurse's expression is one of pity as she nods and guides him to your room.
“The doctor will be with you in a few minutes.” She says before turning around and leaving.
Max stares at the door handle for an eternity, feeling nervous and worried. He doesn’t know how you are going to react. You were pretty angry when you left.
Well, he doesn’t care how angry you are. If you want to scream and push him away you have every right to do it, but he won’t leave you. Not now, not ever.
When he opens the door his heart stops beating.
You have a gauze on your temple and your bottom lip is a little swollen, but he doesn’t see any more injuries, which is good.
You meet his gaze and everything happens in slow motion; you start crying, repeating his name between sobs as you open your arms. Max doesn’t hesitate and runs towards you, being careful to not hug you so tightly, even though that’s exactly what he wants to do.
“I’m sorry, I’m so—so so-rry.” You cry against his chest and Max's heart breaks a little more.
“Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Max doesn’t know if he tries to reassure you or him. “Where does it hurt? Are there any more injuries or bruises?”
You shake your head, pulling away and wiping your tears. “No, just my head, really. My side hurts a little but nothing more.” Max cups your face, his own vision blurry due to the tears threatening to slide down his cheek. “It wasn’t big but… your car was actually the one that suffered all the damage.”
Max didn’t think about that. He didn’t even remember you had taken his car in the first place.
“That doesn’t matter.” You open your mouth to complain but he shuts you up with a kiss to your forehead. “I was so scared. I thought I’ve lo—”
“Hey,” You take his hand, squeezing tightly. “I’m here, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”
“It was a stupid fight.”
You smile, eyes softening. “It was, yes.” You place a kiss on his knuckles. “Would you lie down with me? I want you to hold me, please.”
Max waits for you to move and climbs in the hospital bed. It’s very tiny and uncomfortable but he doesn’t care, not when he can feel you and know that you are okay. You rest your head on his chest, sighing.
“I want to kiss you,” You confess, looking up at him. “but my lips hurt so bad.”
Max grins, his soul returning to his body.
“I’m sure we can think of something.”
735 notes · View notes
moonhoures · 8 months
Text
Relax
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🕷️ kinktober — day 3: bath sex 🕸️
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pairing: yeosang (ateez) + reader (g/n)
genre: non-idol!au, fluff, smut
warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, established relationship, yeosang has a fractured ankle, reader gives yeosang a handjob in the bath, mentions of a blowjob but no actual blowjob (sorry 😣)
word count: ~2.6k
synopsis: after yeosang gets injured, you have no problem helping him in any way he needs ;)
a/n: i’m such a sucker for fics where one partner is injured and the other takes care of them ;-; so i had fun writing this ^_^
posted: october 3, 2023
kinktober masterlist
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“Augh!”
Your boyfriend yelped out in pain, getting your attention all the way from the kitchen where you were loading the dishwasher. You quickly shut the dishwasher door and bolted to the living room to check on him. You huffed in disappointment, getting a sheepish look from your boyfriend in return.
“You’re not supposed to stand up without me to help you,” you chided him, gesturing for him to sit back down on the couch, “What were you trying to do anyways?”
He frowned, plopping back down onto the couch and wincing from the discomfort he felt in his ankle, “I was trying to get the TV remote.”
“You should’ve called me, Yeo, I’m literally in the next room,” you spoke to him with a softer tone now, grabbing the remote from the table on the opposite end of the room to hand it to him. You got a good look at him, noticing the bags under his eyes and the flushed tone in his cheeks. He was so tired and in so much pain. The medicine the doctor had given him for his fractured ankle could only help so much, but Yeosang had been taking it like a champ for the most part. He was just having trouble adjusting to the ‘relying on people’ part of his injury.
“How are you feeling?” you asked him when he didn’t reply to your first comment.
He sighed, slumping further into the cushions, “Just like every other day. Terrible.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” you couldn’t recount how many times you had asked him that question this past week, but Yeosang was growing irritated from hearing it. He appreciated your help, he did, but he couldn’t help but feel so pitiful and useless in this condition. Not being able to move on his own without risking even further injury. He hated relying on you to do his daily tasks.
“No, I don’t want to bother you anymore than I already am,” he admitted, looking past you at the TV.
Now you were the one frowning, taking the empty spot beside him, “You’re not bothering me. I’m happy to help you with whatever you need. If there’s anything I can do to make you feel a little better, then I want to do it.”
He glanced at you with a hint of a smile on his lips, “You’re too nice.”
“I was thinking helpful would be a better word,” you joked, making him chuckle softly. Just then an idea popped into mind, “What about a bath? I could use the new bubble bath I got, and the salts you like.”
Yeosang was usually a shower kind of guy, but being that he wasn’t able to stand for long with his ankle and there was no room for him to sit in the shower, he had been enjoying the tub more. Some nights you let him use the lavender-scented salts you bought, and he seemed to relax more with those. When you would go in to help him out of the tub, he would comment how much nicer your stuff smells than the ‘manly’ stuff he used.
“And if you want a spa experience, I can pull up some jazz music and hot towels.”
Yeosang laughed at that, nodding, “Okay, you’ve convinced me.”
You hopped up off the couch, glee apparent on your face as you did so, “Perfect. You stay right there while I go run the water. Don’t move a muscle!”
Yeosang watched with amusement as you ran off to the bedroom, and shortly after he could hear the faint sound of the bath water running. He didn’t realize, but he was grinning. He was wondering how he got so lucky to have someone in his life that cared about him the way you did. He thought he must’ve been a really great person in his past life, very charitable. He thought you must be his good karma returning to him.
“Okay,” you emerged from the bedroom several minutes later, “It’s ready for you.”
Your boyfriend waited until you got closer before he started to get up. You supported him with one arm, letting him rest some of his weight on you to keep it off of his left leg. He hissed as he took a step and felt the nerves firing in his ankle, making the limb below his calf ache.
“You okay?”
Yeosang nodded, and you helped him take the first step, then the next. A couple minutes later, he let out a sigh of relief as you both finally made it to the bathroom. You fixed him up sitting on the edge of the tub. He took a deep breath, a smile on his face as he took in the sweet smell of lavender and something else. That’s when he noticed the two eucalyptus candles that were lit on the counter across the room.
“Candles? Really?”
“I told you I was giving you the full spa experience,” you spoke nonchalantly, “Let’s get these off of you.”
He let you tug his shirt off of him, ruffling his hair up in the process. He pulled his shorts and boxers down to his knees, and you took them from there, cautious of his ankle while removing them. Then you stood by, body tense while you let him settle in the tub by himself, ready at any moment to help if he needed you. But luckily he didn’t need any help. He hummed in satisfaction, sinking further into the water, rippling the bubbles away from him.
“Is the temp okay?”
He merely nodded and hummed, looking as cozy as a baby in a snug blanket. You broke out into a smile, walking away to get a towel for him.
“Call me if you need anything,” you told him, leaving the towel off to the side where he could reach. His eyes widened, and he sat up a little.
“Wait- I want you to stay here with me.”
“For what?”
“I just- I don’t want to be by myself. Can you just stay here and talk to me?”
How could you say no?
“Of course I can.”
You sat down beside the bathtub, letting your left arm rest along the edge. You rested your chin on your arm, then tilted your head so your cheek was pressed against your skin.
“Have you talked to the guys recently?” you asked him, trying to find a conversation to start.
“Yunho texted me this morning,” he replied, “Said it doesn’t feel the same getting breakfast without me.”
Small, soft smiles widened on both your cheeks and his at the wholesomeness. You knew Yeosang’s injury was hard for him, but it was also hard on you and his friends. Not having the usual, happy Yeosang around was weird, but at least you lived with him. You could still hang out with him, and you slept in the same bed as him at night. His friends didn’t have the same fortune, and these days they were so busy they barely had time to visit him. At this point they were just counting down the days until he was clear to roam around on his own so they could resume as normal. The eight amigos.
“They all miss you, I’m sure,” you said. You let the fingers on your right arm dip into the water. Your fingertips grazed over the surface, twirling the suds, making them dance. You entertained yourself with them as Yeosang talked about taking things for granted before. How he wished he could do his day-to-day stuff like normal again.
“Like what?” you questioned him, “You can do all the same stuff, you just need help to do it. And like I said, that’s what I’m here for.”
“But-“ your boyfriend paused, then decided against what he was going to say. But now you were intrigued.
“What?”
“It’s nothing,” he shook his head, ears turning pink. It seemed like he was a little ashamed or embarrassed of what he was thinking.
“No, tell me. What? Is my help not good enough?” you teased, “Because there’s no way you can say that after I did all this for you.” You gestured to the rest of the room.
He shook his head again, “No, you’ve been a big help. And I’m really thankful. It’s just- I need help with something that doesn’t have to do with my injury.”
The look he gave you was pointed, and at first you didn’t understand what he was implying. But it dawned on you after a moment. Of course, he was a human with needs and desires, and a body. Your eyes glanced down at the bubbles that were starting to dwindle down into suds, leaving empty patches of water on the surface. One patch just so happened to expose his half-erect penis in his lap.
When he first came home from the doctor’s, you were very strict about him taking it easy. You wanted him to recover as soon as possible. Sex was the last thing on your mind, and had been since. Your sole focus was taking care of him and making sure his needs were met, just not in that way. You weren’t even acknowledging your own needs in the process.
“Oh.”
“But it’s okay. I- I’ve been taking care of them, uh, when I get the chance,” his ears were red now, out of pure bashfulness. You found it cute. When he got like this, you loved teasing him, making him even more flustered.
“I’m sorry, my love. You should’ve told me,” you cooed, fingertips gliding across the water until they met his biceps. You grazed them, emerging from the water onto his wet skin. You felt him tense a bit under your touch, and it made your lips twitch.
“I was going to, but I felt bad. You’ve been helping me with so much. I don’t want to ask you for anything else,” he confessed.
“You’re not a burden, Yeo,” you assured him, making eye contact with him as your fingers came to rest on his shoulder. You drew lazy circles over his skin, making goosebumps appear on it, “I want to help you. With whatever you need.”
His eyes were hazy now, as if he was entranced by you. And honestly, he was. He had been thinking about fucking you for weeks now, but was unable to initiate anything in his state because he was nervous about furthering his injury in some way. And you weren’t initiating, so he resorted to suffering in silence. Eventually he got to the point that he couldn’t take it anymore, and he ended up fisting his cock furiously in the bathroom. But all he wanted was you.
He gulped when your hand moved to his chest, smoothing it over his pecs. Your fingertips pausing to squeeze his nipple lightly. He twitched, making you giggle. He was so sensitive. You loved it.
You trailed even further, breaking the water’s surface again to slip over his abs. The subtle terrain of muscles under skin that displayed how diligently he had worked out—well, up until he had fractured his ankle.
Then, you felt it. The sparse hair that grew along his V-line. The feeling of it had you drawing your lip between your teeth, because you knew what would soon follow.
The stretch of skin that led to what you really wanted. The base of his cock, now growing by the second. It was starting to throb in anticipation, turning red along the shaft. The thin veins were standing out. You wanted him in your mouth so bad, but you would have to make-do with your position right now.
You took him in your grasp, giving him the lightest squeeze, and yet he still let out a whimper. It was soft, so soft you almost missed it.
“How’s that, baby?”
“Good,” he squeaked out, “K-keep going. Please.”
The suds were almost non-existent by now, so you could see clearly everything you were doing below the water. You were both enjoying the show, eyes glued between his legs. His lips were parted, breaths coming out in pant-like bursts as you started to slowly drag your hand up and down his length. The friction was a little difficult to work through, but you were determined to make it work. You paused at the end of his dick, swiping your thumb over the slit. Precum floated through the water in little ribbons then disappeared. You couldn’t wait to have his cum do the same, and neither could he.
“Please,” he whined again, eyes closing for a moment. His hands were balling into fists at his side.
“Just relax, my love.”
He nodded, letting the back of his head rest against the edge of the tub. His eyes screwed shut even more as you continued to stroke him, a little faster this time. You saw his legs shift, moving the water in the tub. His body was preparing an orgasm all because of you. His chest moved up and down, and you could see his abs tensing. His fingernails were biting into his palms.
“________, it feels so good,” he whispered, “So much better than my hand.”
You bit back a smile, “I know, baby. Are you close? Can you cum for me?”
“Mhm,” he nodded eagerly, and as if on cue, his thighs tensed up.
You quickened your pace some more, an ache growing in your forearm, but you ignored it.
“What did you think about when you jerked off, Yeo? Me?”
“Yes,” he admitted it without hesitation.
“What about me?”
“Everything. Being inside you. In your mouth.”
“My mouth? You want to fuck my mouth, baby?”
“Yeah,” he moaned, eyes opening to look at you. You looked back at him with eyes full of allure, full of all the things he wanted and more. It drove him crazy, “Fuck, yes.”
“As soon as we get out of this bathroom, my mouth is all yours,” you said, watching his face twist into sexual agony. If it wasn’t for his godforsaken ankle, he would’ve had you bent over the bathroom counter already.
“Please,” he was desperate this time, and his body was getting closer to climaxing. He whined and his thighs thrashed, pushing the now-lukewarm water up along the tub’s edges.
Some of the water had managed to escape and roll down the outside of the bath, dripping down and falling to the floor. But you didn’t care, you ardently pumped his cock, choking up just below his tip. He loved when you did that, and it brought him even closer, until finally your name came out of his mouth in a whine.
His toes curled, and every part of his body clenched as rope upon rope of cum shot out of him and carried on the water over his lap. His cock twitched in your grip as your strokes slowed. Then you removed your hand from him completely, letting him recuperate. He melted into the water, sinking his shoulders below the surface. He sighed after a while of regaining his composure, but the tips of his ears remained a bright pink color.
“Best spa ever,” he breathed out, causing you both to laugh.
“I think if this was a real spa, I would be losing my job,” you joked, leaning in to kiss his cheek.
He turned his head to you, capturing your lips with his and deepening the kiss. He kissed you like he was hungry for you, teeth nipping at the skin of your lips. Your cheek was surprised to feel cool water when his hand reached up to hold it. The same, wet hand slid down from your face to your neck, fingertips digging into your skin the smallest amount. You groaned against his lips before he pulled away.
“Did you mean it? As soon as we leave the bathroom?” he asked, and you didn’t even have to think about it. You knew exactly what he was referring to.
“Yes, I meant it.”
“Then please help me get out of this tub.”
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— taglist #1
@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedriswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @mrsdacherry @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite
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vampirzina · 4 months
Note
Hello! May I pretty please request mk1 characters with a reader who is really tired and it's having some complications on her like having a harder time breathing or being dead tired?
tw: gn pronouns, sfw, mdni, alphabetical order, short hcs, illness and sleep disorders, injury
notes: anon! i hope you and anyone who feels like this get well if this has anything to do with what’s going on offscreen. i also didn’t know if you wanted specific characters or not so i did the entire roster. also apologize if it’s a little ooc. take care x
masterlist : divider credit
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Ashrah paused her path to redemption to check on you. She’d ask you when you first shown signs if you were okay, but when you brushed her off she had no choice but to leave it be. She’d simply help you when you’d fell sick, until she knew you’d be okay. She wouldn’t further herself until she knew you’d come with her.
Baraka already worried constantly about giving you his disease if you weren’t already infected. So to him, your health was the utmost importance and seeing you well was a sign that he didn’t harm you. When it was reported that you’d fallen ill from the lack of sleep, he would help you as often as possible but take his frustration out on some of the colony for not looking after you when he can’t. He’d even ask Mileena if there is anything she could do to help you, or advice, but he’d rely mostly on what he knew.
Bi Han would have noticed something was up when you didn’t sleep when it came time to. He might not care too much at first when he sees you’re still functioning but that changes entirely when one of his subordinates told him that you were rushed to the infirmary because you felt like you were suffocating. He will know what’s wrong with you whether you tell him or not, and until you rest, you’ll be bedridden. If he can’t bring you things you ask for himself, he’ll get others (or his brothers) to do it for you… Except for cuddles/intimacy.
General Shao begins to worry on the inside when you start to get sick, but he keeps he’s tough exterior. He’ll investigate your current habits if he hasn’t already, and go to the best doctors in all of Outworld for help. When he gets to the bottom of it, don’t try to deny it—he notes your dark under eye. He knows what it’s like to be sick and it is not fun at all. He scolds you for not taking care of yourself, even a little offended that you’d do such a thing while with him. However, he relies on the doctors who he sends on order to report to him. You don’t get to leave until he thinks you’re okay, regardless of what the doctors say.
Geras doesn’t need sleep, but that doesn’t mean he is unaware of the importance of it. When you stay up with him to bond over the hourglass and timelines, it’s fun… At first. But when you keep doing it day after day and night after night, he hints at your depleted energy as of late. You may brush it off, but he looks into what this could mean for you. Ideally, he stops it one way or another before it could get worse.
Havik thinks it a major nuisance, and it mostly wouldn’t stop him in his endeavors. He doesn’t care for how you look. When you begin to have physical complications from your exhaustion, he lets it only so far thinking you’ve got it before he himself stops it. While he bounds you to the bed until you sleep, he’s out doing what he normally does best. He comes straight back to you, though, but don’t mention it at all to him. He doesn’t want something so tame like that exposed.
Johnny Cage would innocently comment on how you look the moment it started to show. It would start an argument from how agitated you’ve been lately, sure, but he says it’s out of concern (and love) for you. He gives you just about anything that could help you sleep. If you get ill from not being able to, he makes you see a doctor. Either that, or he “has some ideas that could tire you out”. You roll tired eyes, whatever that means.
Kenshi would also note your sullen look if he sees it [through sento], but much more cordially and obviously a lot more genuinely concerned. He doesn’t mind if he should stay home and cuddle to sleep at all, and it makes him a little sad when you turn him down. When you eventually get sick from your habits, he argues with you briefly as soon as you’re sentient again, but becomes your ultimate schedule reminder. You scared him half to death.
Kitana pulled you aside, even going as far as to get you excused you from your duties for a moment so that you could get some rest. When you fall ill from it she wants updates on your health even if you’re stagnant. She offers you certain herbal remedies to encourage sleep, and gets you a spa day so that you could look a little bit better than what you did before (and hopefully encourage you to sleep). News of your troubles don’t leave where you stay, and she’s discreet about it so you do not get embarrassed amongst your peers. Rumors are dispelled with the quickness.
Kuai Liang worries about you first, gets information second, and then makes a solution last. He listens to you talk about your problems sleeping when you eventually fall ill from the lack. He feels somewhat guilty for not checking on you as you are in his arms every night, but he feels that brainstorming with you and those who are experienced in health a plan that would help you recover is the best apology even though you remind him it’s not his fault. You’ll be required to rest, and he’ll make sure you do before he ever gets any sleep at all.
Kung Lao notices first and foremost when you start to deny rigorous activity with him. It’s only then does he realize how exhausted you look, and for once he gets serious and somewhat selfless. He fights off any of the ill feelings with medicine, all while getting you to do things not too strenuous on your body so that it gets you tired enough to sleep (even if it was just for a minute). He spends as much time needed until it goes away entirely, because he’s relentless like that and not the type to give up or leave you to it. And sometimes, when he’s trying to get you to sleep, he accidentally makes himself fall asleep.
Liu Kang already knows before it gets too late to find out, so it’s no use hiding it from him. He personally clears your schedule somehow, and if you want to work, you can’t. He’s upset with you because of how he found out you haven’t been sleeping, not because you haven’t been sleeping. He makes you prove that you are able-bodied enough to start moving around again when you insist that you can; he begins to check for you at night, having fixed a sleep schedule for you to follow. He complies if you need help sleeping again, and only leaves to return to the hourglass once you’re fast asleep.
Li Mei is the utmost level about it. After you get sick by it, she’s perfectly rehearsed and practiced, but doesn’t enjoy when others franticness starts to impede on her moves. Eventually, your comfort lie solely in her and her quarters instead of some royal infirmary or hospital. She accommodates for you, and covers for you if there are others checking for you elsewhere. She knows a thing or two about exhaustion, so she makes great efforts to help you sleep regularly from now on.
Mileena hardly leaves your side. When you collapse from your breathlessness, Princess!Mileena forgets that she’s not yet Empress. The stress does eventually get to her and it hikes up her symptoms of Tarkat, so once she bounces back from it, she immediately asks about you. She may pull away to engage in her royal duties, but she gets them done quickly and comes back to you as both Empress and Princess. She even bathes in some sort of relaxing herb so that when you both cuddle, you’ll be more prone to falling asleep.
Nitara scours her people’s remedies for a cure. It took her some time, but it doesn’t matter—it doesn’t really work anyway. You’re still tired and ill. As she searches for remedies she brings up the topic of being immortal; she doesn’t press if you deny. She asks a few of her more trusted coven members to look over you when she’s away, and she’s there in an instant when you so much so think of her.
Quan Chi is disappointed, but he helps anyway. He deals more in death and whatnot, but he knows a thing or two about the health of self. He does what he knows best, and if need be, he does great research before making a move. Whenever he feels annoyed from your stubbornness to sleep, that’s when he scolds you for being so reckless. But he wouldn’t let you go unattended.
Raiden chastises you all the way to the infirmary. You’d collapse mid-conversation, unable to breathe and now his hearts racing. When you end up okay, he wants to know what’s going on immediately. He tries not to be so upset with you, but he does everything in his power to help you. Herbal teas, medicine, gentle work over a span of hours—everything. He keeps using what he sees works best. He’s your alarm now and he forces you to sleep when he does; if he could stare at you until you fell asleep he would, but that’s counterproductive.
Rain gently taps you on the head with his staff when you look out of it. He gets annoyed when he’d have to keep doing it, and eventually confronts you. He gives you solid advice if he can’t do it himself, and he checks up on you very often. He feels a sense of shame and guilt from not being more concerned with you and more with his work, and for mindlessly hitting you in the head when you obviously weren’t feeling well. He’s unsure of how to make it up to you, but he’ll get it eventually if you don’t tell him.
Reiko acts as your personal guard already, and it’s only worsened when you can hardly function. One by one does he get some of his more insignificant duties off of him so that he has more time with you. If General Shao knows, he may offer some sort of help. Reiko sometimes makes himself late to duty so that he can take care of you, until he’s sure you’ll be fine on your own for an entire day. He sometimes comes back to you in the middle of duty, when things are boring and he can sneak away, and he helps you get as much sleep as possible from then on.
Shang Tsung makes a snide remark before casting some sort of spell on you to sleep. Before, he’d just made some sort of joke about how tired you look and smothers you with slightly sardonic pet names, but the total 180 when you couldn’t breathe could kill someone. It’s the most emotion he’s shown other than his usual in so so long, and once you’ve come to your senses he practically threatens you to get better. He’d help here and there, but your recovery is reduced to a side hustle over time.
Sindel first noticed when you became lackluster in your work. She confronted you firmly, and only backed off when you assured her that you could continue working. When she caught wind you had ended up in the medics hands, she focused on fixing you first before confronting you on your lie. She’d be hurt, at first, and she temporarily relieves you from your work. You’ll have your own private quarters if you haven’t already, and more luxury that she thinks will help you feel better. Even if you apologize, she’s already made up a reason why you did it and accepts that. However, you’re required to see her now.
Syzoth genuinely starts to act beside himself even at the first sign of complication. He searches all the land for remedies for your kind, and comes back to you to help heal you whether or not he’s successful. Outside of remedies he initiates naps, cuddles and everything nice that would get you to sleep. Deep purrs from his chest as a lullaby. He’s constantly monitoring you when you’re up and active, clinging to your side. When he thinks that you’ve been out for too long, he insists to go back to sleep some more.
Tanya covers for you before you even know. Your lack of sleep makes you overlook things, and she’s been trailing behind you and fixing your mishaps. She’s meant to confront you, and when you collapse before her unable to breathe it’s as if she already knows what to do. When you’re lying in her bed recovering from the incident, she tells you what she’s going to do—it’s not an open ended choice.
Tomas Vrbada is far too observant. He may be busy with Hanzo, but that doesn’t mean he can’t check for you. He pesters you as you get tireder and tireder each day, and eventually catches you up and not sleeping. It sprouts the conversation of your sleeping habits and he’s overall sympathetic to your guilt. He doesn’t let it get to the point of you being sick; and if for some reason it does, he’s already right there to help you (even if his heart is going a million miles an hour). He begins to stop working later so that you eat, sleep and do routines on time.
@𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐀೨
info
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