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#LET'S GO!!! (god it would be so good it would PUT THE WEIGHT OFF of expectations of these stupid murmurs about lost generation)
hella1975 · 2 years
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guys i have my trial shift tomorrow and ive never had it before when im actually bothered about the job in a specific way like in the past it's always been about GETTING a job and not really giving a toss where im working so long as im working but this is a place i actually really really want to work and will bummed if i dont get. like it's right by the river and it's a really upmarket bar kind of scene so hopefully i might even get proper training in that area and it'll be my first non-minimum wage job AND i'll get tips (every other job i've had i dont even SEE my tips bc the managers take it even if it's given directly to me) and the hours will be super good and it's fast-paced and yeah. im not actually stressed so much bc a trial shift is a trial shift and yeah it's hard getting used to a new place but i can waitress in my sleep but i just reallyyyyyyyy want the job
#do NOT get me started on the tip thing my god#because basically one thing about me is that my customer service is IMPECCABLE#idk what it is idk if it's just bc my mum comes from a waitressing background and basically trained me up behind the scenes#or if im just naturally good at it but i can really switch it on for customers#the only time i start slipping is when customers are rude but luckily the jobs ive had so far kind of let me get away with that#bc they hated rude customers as much as me and kinda used my temper as their own buffer to get the customers to fuck off lol#but when customers are behaving i absolute SHINE like im being so arrogant about this bc i know for a fact im good at it#like they used to purposely put me on till/front of house bc i had the best customer service out of all of them#including the middle-aged workers who'd been there longer#and my fave barista once told me that he did a little experiment and compared how many tips we got when i was working#vs when i was away at uni and it was actually RIDICULOUS how much more tips i got us#and you know what? my boss would split the tips every few months (whenever he remembered) and he'd weight them#depending on who did what jobs. despite tips being PURELY bc of customer service and nothing to do with jobs#so the chef who could barely grunt at people would get a bigger share of the tips i almost singlehandedly earnt us than i did#so yeah i know for a fact this place does it differently bc they're a lot more professional#and also ive been going there for years now it's just genuinely a really nice place#wish me luck besties#hella slaves to capitalism
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witchwhaat · 1 year
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a tragedy: couldn't fit a nap in my schedule
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eddiesghxst · 9 months
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small blurb of best friend!reader spending the night at eddies and while theyre brushing their teeth getting ready for bed (shes in a tank top n panties) he notices that she doesnt have a gag reflex🫣
oh he’d go fucking nuts🤭
18+ — MINORS DNI
————
Eddie feels like a perv for doing this. He feels guilty and shameful and all things wrong for doing this, but he can’t help it—- any moral thinking was wiped away when all the blood in his head rushed to his dick.
It was stupid, really. You and Eddie were just brushing your teeth, like any normal humans before bed. Except you were wearing that flimsy little tank top that hardly even covers anything, and Eddie… well Eddie’s not a god, of course he was looking at your tits.
They’re perfect, hard nipples pressed against the thin material of your top, a sinful jiggle waving through them as you gently work your toothbrush over your teeth. Eddie was mesmerized.
And that was fine—- Eddie’s half hard dick could be calmed with a few boner-killing thoughts, no problem.
Except all hope of bidding away his clear arousal flew out the window the second you brushed your tongue and pushed your toothbrush so far back that Eddie expected to hear a gag, but surprisingly didn’t hear a single sound of struggle. And as if you having no gag reflex wasn’t enough, you had to lean over the sink, spit out the white paste, and happily hum as you did it.
Eddie thinks he blacked out after that, because the next thing he remembers is his fist tightly pumping his aching cock like his life depended on it.
After you finished he made some lazy excuse about needing to take a leak and locked the door behind you before hastily shoving his sweats down. The second Eddie pushed down the waistband of his sweats to release his cock, he knew he wasn’t going to last long.
Eddie hasn’t been this hard in a while, pulsing and throbbing and begging for release as he wraps his hand around his tip and starts stroking. His eyes flutter shut, jaw dropping as he leans forward to press a hand against the blank wall of the bathroom. He mutters a curse to himself, shut eyes squeezing in pleasure as he thinks about the sinful act you’d just put on for him.
He imagines you atop of him, weepy cunt swallowing him whole as you bounce on his cock, pretty tits moving with each sway. He imagines reaching up and gathering your tits in each of his hands, squeezing them to watch the way your soft skin gives way beneath his fingertips, molding against his touch like they were made for him.
He lets a moan slip before placing his knuckles between his teeth, shakily breathing as he quickens his strokes. It’s been less than five minutes and he’s pathetically close, but he doesn’t care.
He imagines you clambering off his lap to drop on your knees between his legs, wasting no time to wrap your lips around his cock and take him all the way to the back of your throat. He shivers when he replays the memory of you practically deep throating your toothbrush, pink tongue tauntingly on display.
He imagines pulling out of your mouth to tap his sticky tip against the thick of your tongue, and he imagines you would sinfully hum the way you did when you spit out your toothpaste.
He’s on the brink of cumming when you knock, a worried tone bracing your voice as you speak up, “Eddie? Everything okay?”
And the second Eddie opens his mouth to answer, he cums. Sticky white ropes of cum spurt from the sensitive red tip of his cock, coating his knuckles and messily dripping onto the floor. “Y-yeah I’m—- fuck.” he throbs beneath his touch, legs threatening to give out beneath the weight of his pleasure.
His breath is bated and shaky, wide eyes watching as more cum spills with each aching throb. He glances at the doorway and curses when he still sees your shadow beneath the door. He looks back at his cock and curses because the white sticky substance just won’t stop dribbling from his cock. “Uh—- I’m good. I’m fine.”
He hears you leave and he shuts his eyes, leaning forward to rest his head against the cool wall before him as he gives his cock a few more lazy strokes. He braves one last glance at his cock as he finally finishes off and he lets out a breathy laugh of disbelief.
He’s not sure how he’s gonna be able to look you in the eyes after this.
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If It All Fell (2)
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: Angst!! (poor Az :/)
a/n: I hope you enjoyy!! :) More to come obvi <3 This is gonna be a long one.
Part 1 ♡, Part 3 ☾
Series Masterlist
~~
Did the small wooden box on the top shelf of the closet have meaning? 
Was it significant? 
From the bed centered in the middle of the room, you let your eyes take you along the delicate carvings in the wood. They looped and curved, dropping off in the pattern of a star, and then a moon, and then a misshapen cloud. 
You knocked your head to the side, ignoring the deep pain lingering there, and glanced at the empty spot on the dresser by the door. It was the exact size of the box. And the box—in its new, seemingly hidden location—looked haphazardly placed. 
Did they move it for a reason? 
Did they think you wouldn’t notice? 
Was this even your bedroom? 
You figured it must be. Clothes that looked to be your size were hanging in the closet. A vanity sat by the window with products on it that might compliment your complexion. There were paintings you found yourself enjoying hanging on the walls. 
So this must be your bedroom… but there was something missing. 
And it looked as if nothing was in the right place, but you had no frame of reference for where it was all supposed to be. 
You just knew that that wooden box didn’t belong under a knit sweater in the closet. 
The creak of the door drew your attention away from the apparent inaccuracy of the room. Two people entered, and it was a small mercy that you found some recognition in their faces. Majda and Mor slinked into the room, the latter with a sheepish, shy smile on her face, and clicked the door shut with a muted click. 
“Hi,” Mor greeted, as Majda set an absurdly large bag on the bedside table. The blonde shifted her weight between her feet. “My name is Mor. We met in the forest, do you remember?” 
Do you remember? 
It was unintentionally cruel. 
You nodded your head, not trusting your voice when it was so unfamiliar. 
Mor’s smile brightened a touch. “I was hoping you would. Although, with everything that happened I wasn’t going to put too much pressure on you.” She winked, and you were left feeling like an outsider in your own conversation. 
Majda bustled around your bed, asking permission before touching your head and your neck. You granted it to her, if only because she was the only person in the room not attempting to drive an uncomfortable conversation. Mor seemed very sweet, but she was hovering over you and glancing your way as if you were going to explode. 
Maybe you were going to explode. 
It’s not like you would know if that was a common occurrence for you. 
“I know you’ve woken up a few times since returning ho—here,” Mor quickly corrected, playing with her fingers and shifting onto her toes. “You were confused for a while before you fell back to sleep. Do you remember that?” 
Do you remember that? 
You shook your head. Majda’s hands glowed and warmed against your skull. 
Mor pursed her lips. “Hm, I suppose that’s to be expected. It was all a bit disorienting.” 
There were a few moments of silence. Mor dropped herself into the chair that had been pulled up beside the bed, fidgeting every so often. The old healer continued her assessment of you as you stared blankly out the window and tried to pretend there weren’t a pair of brown eyes burning a hole into the side of your face. You could hear footsteps beyond your door. 
They would pace one way, and then the other. 
“No change.” Majda’s voice startled you out of your stupor. She gave you kind eyes and a pat on your cheek. “This is above my abilities. I’m sorry. You are in good health, otherwise.” 
“My head,” you croaked out. Gods, how long had you been asleep? “It hurts. Hasn’t stopped.” 
The healer hummed. “I can give you some tonics, but until the source of this amnesia is sorted out, there will be no definitive fix.” 
A few glass vials clinked against the side table as Majda placed them there and slung her bag over her shoulder. She shared a few hushed words with Mor and then went to the door, swinging it wide as she stepped through it. You caught the tip of a wing in the doorframe, saw those same shadows from before curve around the hinges and pull towards you. 
They were ushered back just as quickly, and then the door shut as well, hiding the hints of your visitor. 
You hadn’t noticed you’d craned your neck to catch a glimpse until you righted it. When you heard more voices in the hall, you looked down at your fingers, blinking back tears you didn’t understand the origins of. 
“Sometimes, you like to read,” Mor said, breaking the silence. “You were in the middle of this book.” 
She placed the thick novel on the blanket beside your legs. Glancing up at Mor’s encouraging smile, you picked it up, feeling its weight in your hand instead of giving in to the one in your chest. You thumbed along the spine and then at the edges of the pages, stopping when your fingers caught on a sharp edge at the top. 
A bookmark—a place where you’d left off. You flipped it open but couldn’t follow a bit of it. 
More tears left your throat feeling thick. 
“What happens now?” you quietly asked, trying desperately not to cry in front of this woman that you didn’t know. 
“Now—” Mor began, clearing her own throat, her voice just as raw as yours. When she sat by your legs, you let some of the glossiness in your eyes show. “—we take things slow. Majda said we shouldn’t rush things until we find a source. Rhys—Rhysand… the one with the pointed ears and a pompous attitude—is in contact with other courts to try and get some help. There are other people in our Inner Circle that might be able to help as well.” 
You bit into your bottom lip until it hurt. “I’m part of this circle?” 
Mor’s smile was sad. “You are.” 
~~ 
You shifted in front of the mirror, uncomfortable despite being alone. It had been three days since you woke up, and each of those three days had been spent in your bedroom. Your bedroom, you had confirmed with Mor. 
The only two people you had been in contact with were Mor and Majda. You could hear other voices in the hall, sometimes see a shadow pass by your balcony at night, but you only ever spoke to Mor. Majda didn’t say much when she came in to check your head and drop off more vials.
“We don’t want to overwhelm you,” Mor had said, but there was something else, too. You weren’t comfortable enough to pry. She looked disappointed that you accepted her reasoning so easily. 
The three days were spent mostly alone, which you hadn’t minded, but the time spent with Mor was filled with stories about you. Where you grew up, how long you studied, all of your favorite things; she was in the business of introducing you to yourself, and she was definitely qualified for the job. 
You had asked her who she was to you, and you received a simple answer at that. 
“I’m your family,” she had said, and then she began talking about you again. 
She always got quiet when you spoke of your connection to others. 
Which was why you had suggested a lunch. 
You spent the better part of the last three days panicking, and then moping, and then aimlessly searching your bedroom for any hints of the life you led before this. All avenues either left you with a headache or emotional exhaustion. 
You remembered the three other men from that day—Rhysand, Azriel, and the one with the longer hair—Cassian, Mor had called him. You wanted to meet them properly… introduce yourself? A ridiculous notion; according to Mor, you’d known everyone for the past 300 years. 
But you didn’t know them, not really. 
And Azriel’s shadows—you wanted to see them the most. You’d been searching for the calm they offered you since the day you woke up, but couldn’t find it in their absence. 
“Are you ready?” Mor asked, a soft knock on the other side of the door. 
“I think so,” you called back. You’d grown more accustomed to the sound of your voice. It was still strange to hear the sound echo back in your head, but as long as you didn’t scream or yell, it was tolerable. 
Mor opened the door, took in your choice of clothes—a purple dress with sleeves that flowed past the wrists—and tried to hide the flutter of her lashes. 
Embarrassment immediately found you. “Was I not supposed to wear this? It was in the back of the closet so I thought—” 
“You look lovely,” Mor assured, linking your arm with hers. Touch was another thing you were growing accustomed to. It was easy with Mor. “You just haven’t worn that in a while. I was surprised to see it.” 
As she walked you down halls you had never seen before, you huffed out a dry laugh. “Well, this is the first time I’m seeing it.” 
Your joke fell flat. Mor smiled back at you, but it was the same smile you always saw. Sad, pained, bittersweet. 
“Who did you say was attending?” you asked, attempting to steer the conversation away from her sad smiles. 
“Just me, Azriel, and Cassian. There are a few more people we typically see on a daily basis, but we wanted to start out small.” 
“To not overwhelm me.” 
“Precisely.” 
Your steps were silent on the marble floor, the silk slippers you chose allowing some of the chill to seep into your toes. “So, why did they choose you?” 
Mor blinked and turned a confused expression your way. “What do you mean?” 
“Why did they choose you as the one person that speaks to me? Are you the least overwhelming of the bunch?” 
“Well that title certainly wouldn’t go to Cassian,” Mor grumbled out. She guided you to a large wooden door and offered you a shrug of her shoulders that looked far too nonchalant. “I was just the best fit for the job. I love you, but… I could handle this.” 
“Handle this? Am I really so terrible?” you asked, trying your hand at another joke. 
Mor’s smile looked more genuine this time as she shook her head. “No. No, you are absolutely wonderful. And that’s the problem.” 
You took a moment to try and decipher her words. Did you mean that much to these people? Did they care so deeply about your memories that only one person could stand to be around you now that they were gone? 
It was difficult not to fall into the immense vat of guilt you now found yourself teetering on the edge of. It was difficult to pretend Mor wasn't looking at you as if you had stolen something from her. 
That was the truth that was missing before—you would be too overwhelming to everyone else. Not the other way around.
Mor gave your hand a fond squeeze as if she could hear your thoughts, and then opened the door. The hinges squeaked and the sheer size of it caused a rather loud echo in the room, but neither of those sounds drowned out the sharp intake of breath from the dining room table. Your eyes immediately shot to the blue glow and the shadows twisting around wide wings. 
Azriel. 
He looked back at you, unblinking, mouth parted. His hair was clean cut and cared for, but something about it looked frazzled and untamed. It didn’t suit the stiffness with which he sat, nor the white-knuckled grip on his fork that he maintained. 
Black wisps slinked across the floor, stopping at your slippers and twisting around your ankles. You broke your stare from Azriel in favor of watching them swirl up your legs. True to your memory—which wasn’t a testament to much these days—their cool presence eased some of the pain in your head. 
A throat cleared. 
You snapped your head up. 
“Uh, I’m Cassian. I don’t know if you remember me from the other day—”
“I do,” you softly interrupted. 
Azriel choked out a shuddering breath. Your eyes lingered on the side of his face before returning to Cassian as he continued with, “Good. That’s good. New memories and all that. Very nice.”
“Cauldron, Cassian,” Mor admonished. “She’s not an invalid.” 
He threw his hands up in a placating gesture. “I didn’t say she was! I was being encouraging.” 
“Great, I’m sure we all feel very encouraged. Come, y/n.” 
You followed Mor blindly until a chair was pressed to your back and a plate was ushered in front of you. There were a few moments of silence, just the clinking of plates and forks, before the panic began to build in your chest. It was a familiar feeling for you, one of the only you could draw memories from. 
You should say something.
Azriel and Cassian, they were doing this for you—taking time away from whatever it was they were supposed to be doing to have a silly lunch. In a normal world, you wouldn’t need to have lunch as a way to reintroduce yourself to your family. 
Were they still your family? 
You knew nothing about them, could reciprocate nothing.
There had been no news about the witch that did this to you and no one told you if Rhysand found anyone to help. 
What if you were stuck like this? 
What if they grew tired of you wasting away in your room and forcing them into lunches and—
“That dish is your favorite.” 
Azriel’s deep voice rasped at the end of his sentence and sent every thought shooting away from your brain. You came back to present, catching yourself taking quick, shallow breaths and staring down at the table with no clear target. 
“You eat it every other week. I—We picked it up from a restaurant along the Sidra, a river in town,” Azriel explained. 
You brought your gaze up from staring a hole into the wood to find Azriel directly across from you, his posture more relaxed than before. His expression was patient, kind, and you nodded back at him. 
“Thank you,” you whispered. But that was odd—whispering during a meal. “Thank you,” you tried again, clearer this time. “I appreciate that—”
“Azriel,” he filled in, not allowing you the possibility of a mistake. “My name is Azriel.” 
You knew that. You knew all of their names as well as their faces. There were a few paintings shoved into the back of your closet that you had taken the time to study. 
Did they shove them back there on purpose? 
“It’s nice to meet you, Azriel.” 
Azriel’s jaw quivered, his lashes fluttered. 
He took a bite of salad. 
“I don’t know if you’d be interested,” Cassian began, clearing his throat again. “But we used to—well, no, we currently have a weekly arrangement where you drag me to the theater and make me watch a show and I pretend I hate it but I actually have a great time.” 
The lingering joy on his face made a small smile creep up onto your own. 
“Sound fun to you? Might be nice to get out of that room.” 
You took a deep breath, biting the inside of your cheek. This was a good sign, him wanting to spend time with you… him wanting to be in your presence and not break down into tears or anger or distaste.
“I would love to,” you said. “Although, I don’t know much about theater.” 
Cassian dropped a heavy hand on your shoulder. “Wouldn’t expect you to know much about anything, sweetheart.”
Mor snorted the water she was drinking back into her glass, you let out a surprised, scoff-like laugh, and Cassian grinned from beside you, all teeth and snark and playfulness. 
But Azriel. 
Azriel stood up, his chair screeching as it pushed out abruptly. His napkin was clenched tightly in his hand and the rigidness from before was back and in full-swing. The shadows that had stayed with you for the duration of lunch zoomed back to their master, displacing the material of your dress as they went. 
He had a bleak, hard look in his eye as he stared at no one. 
“Azriel?” you asked, and it was the first time you’d started any semblance of a conversation on your own. Even when you spoke to Mor, she was the one prompting you to speak. 
At the sound of your voice, Azriel quickly turned his gaze toward you, his eyes softening immediately. But just as quickly, his shoulders slumped, his napkin fell to the floor, and his hand came up to cover his mouth. “I—I’m incredibly sorry. I can’t do this.” 
And then he was gone.
Part 3 ☾
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mediumgayitalian · 26 days
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“Oh, fuck.”
The clatter of her practice sword on the ground is almost louder than the crunch that rings out from his wrist. He inhales sharply, biting back a shout — no matter how many times it’s happened, he will never get used to breaking a bone. That shit hurts.
“Fuck, fuck fuck. Fuck, Seaweed Brain, is it broken?”
“Think so,” Percy grits out. He tries for a smile, and Annabeth matches it, small and worried. He leans into the hand she cups over his cheek. “Not too bad, though. If I just dump my water bottle on it —”
“Absolutely not. Water healing leaves you achey when it rains, you know that.” Shifting to wrap her arm around his waist, she helps him stand, shouldering some of his weight like it’s his ankle that’s broken. He lets her, reaching down to squeeze the hand resting on his hip — I’m fine. We’re good. She turns her hand to wrap clasp their hands together — Okay. If you’re sure.
They walk together to the infirmary, taking their time. Aside from the pain pulsing from his arm, it’s not too bad — camp is as balmy as usual, and the spring break energy is practically visible, it’s so potent. The Demeter cabin has plants growing everywhere, flowers and fruit trees blooming as bright as a box of new crayons, and the air is filled with shouts of laughter and teasing. Annabeth’s steps fall in time with his, and she’s a comfortable warmth at his side, pressed from shoulder to hip.
“You still okay?”
“Yep.” He catches her eye, smiling crookedly at her. “Doesn’t even make my top fifty.”
She rolls her eyes, hipchecking him. “Don’t I know it, ya klutz.”
“Not sure I would call being flung from the St. Louis Arch being a klutz. Or exploded in a volcano. Or crushed under the sky. Or slashed by giants. Or chased by —”
“You’re talking, but all I’m hearing is Annabeth, please, please pinch me, as hard as you can —”
“Hey! Get those claws off me, gods you’re worse than an empousai —”
“— and when you’re done pinching me please put me in the tightest headlock you can manage —”
“I am injured! You are beating up an injured person right now!”
“— and then please just bite a chunk out of my shoulder —”
“Cut it out or I’m telling Mom!”
“Wimp,” she taunts, finally releasing him. “I don’t go running to Sally every time I lose a fight.”
“Wha — you do so!”
She ducks through the infirmary door, smirking like she can’t hear him.
“You literally — you snitched on me last week! I got grounded for two days!”
“And you deserved it,” she says primly.
He gapes. “I did not!”
“Anytime you two are done,” Kayla drawls, shoving a clipboard at them. They accept it with matching sheepish grins, cowed at her perfectly arched eyebrow and slowly tapping foot. “I got patients to deal with and older brothers to harass. Let’s get this moving.”
She is shockingly good at humbling people for a thirteen year old. The two of them turn to their clipboard, chagrined, letting her stomp away with an exasperated He’ll be with you soon! Don’t set off the sprinklers again!
“That was one time,” Percy mumbles, ears reddening.
Annabeth pats him on the back. “There, there,” she says mockingly. “The fact that it was one time definitely negates the fact that you flooded the entire Big House because you got jumpscared by a child.”
“Harley can be sneaky, okay. Let me live.”
“Literally no.”
Annabeth does most of the paperwork for him, ‘cause she’s a nerd because his wrist is far too swollen for him to write properly, so it takes maybe half the time it normally would. The infirmary is crowded as Hell, though (he knows, he’s been), so they settle in for the wait, amusing themselves by tearing little pieces off of a blank form, balling them up, and tossing them in increasingly harder places. Percy is winning 7-4, although Annabeth might just pull through if she manages to toss her paper ball into Travis’ wide-open snoring mouth.
“Hey, guys. Sorry for the wait.”
Aw. She missed. Percy was looking forward to that.
“Hey, Will.”
He drags his attention away from the son of Hermes to greet his friend, but frowns before he can open his mouth.
“Woah, dude, you good? You look exhausted.”
Will snorts. “Welcome to spring break, man.” He holds his hand out for the clipboard, scanning it briefly. “Sparring injury? Oh, thank the gods. I could use a break. Here, face me.”
He climbs up onto the minimal left over space on the cot, tucking his legs under his thighs. Percy turns to mirror him, hesitantly sticking out his arm — A break? he mouths to Annabeth, meeting her eyes over Will’s head.
She shrugs.
“Just spent four hours putting Jake’s nose back on his face,” Will mumbles, placing a careful hand on his fingertips and his forearm. Percy flinches — his skin is blisteringly hot. Like someone just dropped a hot stone onto him. “I never want to sing a skin cell hymn again in my life.” He prods at Percy’s wrist for a moment, gentle enough not to hurt. “Okay, hold still, I’m gonna fix ya right up.”
Healing hymns are familiar, by now, but Percy will never get tired of them.
The cool thing about ambrosia and nectar is that as pleasure food for the gods, it’s pleasant. It’s whatever taste you want, whatever you need to have most, you get it. But healing hymns are intentional the way nectar and ambrosia aren’t. Ambrosia and nectar happen to be healing for demigods — healing hymns were constructed to knit you back together, like you mother smoothing a bandaid over a skinned knee. They’re warm and sweet and deeply, endlessly comforting in a way most things simply cannot claim to be. They don’t feel like a medical procedure or a hasty patch job, they feel like someone gripping you tightly and promising you’ll be okay. They feel like getting carried to bed when you fall asleep on the couch. They feel like sitting down after hours of standing, like a drink of water when your throat is drier than sand. Healing hymns draw the pain and sick and ache from your body, and they feel like relief.
But this time, Percy can’t focus on it.
With every word, Will seems to get a little duller. Nothing like the horrible ash-grey he went in the war, dragging the poison from Annabeth’s body, but like his usual sunny disposition was dialed down a few notches. Enough that Annabeth frowns in concern, drumming her hands on her thighs, watching him closely.
“There,” Will says, pulling away. Percy turns his now-healed wrist, noticing the slight pant to Will’s breath, the strain to his smile. The shake of his blistered fingertips.
“You look overworked,” Annabeth says quietly.
Will holds his hands up in a what can you do gesture. “Spring break.”
“You said.”
“It’s just busy, is all.”
“Yeah, but —”
“Guys,” he interrupts, smiling tiredly, “there are two hundred ADHD demigods at this camp right now who have been trapped in a classroom for six months. There are three of us. I’m going to be a little drained; we’re all a little drained. But I’m fine, okay?” He gives them a second to scrutinize his expression, eyebrows raised in amusement. “I have been running my infirmary for years. I know how to pace myself, and I certainly know how to make sure my siblings are pacing themselves. If something goes really wrong, Chiron is a whistle away. I can go longer than you guys without sleep, anyway. Apollo kid health.”
“If you say so,” Percy says reluctantly. “I just — I can wear a wrist brace, man. Not every injury needs to be handled when it happens. You can tell people no.”
“I appreciate that, Percy, and I’ll keep it in mind. Anyways, I’ve got more patients. Stay off that wrist for the rest of the day, okay? It might be tender for a bit.”
Percy turns to Annabeth as Will leaves, frowning. He’s has never noticed the so-called spring break stress before (his camp spring breaks are usually a blast, but now that he’s thinking about it, he can’t think of a single spring break where he spent any time at all with Will, which is odd), but it can’t be good for him. There’s gotta be something they can do to ease some of the bruising under their friend’s eyes.
“I could set off the fire alarms again,” Percy suggests. “That’ll certainly get this place cleared out.”
Annabeth snorts. “I think that’ll cause more harm than good, Seaweed Brain. It’ll just fall in him to clean it all up, after.”
“Shoot.”
Percy counts nine of the forty cots currently unused. Will, Kayla, and Austin are rushing from cot to cot, handing out nectar, wrapping bandages, rattling off hymns at light speed. All three of them look exhausted, squeezing shoulders when they pass each other, knocking hips, exchanging tired smiles. This is so clearly something they’re used to.
Annabeth’s head rests on his shoulder.
“It wasn’t always like this,” she whispers. “When it was fully staffed…”
Percy exhales heavily. Yeah. He remembers. There was a lot less complication, once upon a time. The most chaotic the infirmary would get was when Lee would challenge his siblings to Hymn Karaoke — trying to heal with pop songs. There was a lot more laughter, at one point. A lot more people.
Percy sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. It never does well to dwell, but he — gods, he wish they all had more time. To sit with it, to acknowledge…everything. Siblings. Friends. A camp that’s smaller than it’s supposed to be.
Annabeth squeezes his hand again, and he squeezes back, resting his head on top of hers.
“Hey,” she murmurs after a moment, pursing her lips at the front door. “Look.”
Slinking through the entrance like a criminal is Nico, in all his dork ass black camp shirt glory. He looks around shiftily, like he’s trying to make sure no one sees him, and when his gaze lands on Percy and Annabeth his eyes widen. Annabeth smiles at him, but it does nothing to ease the spooked look to his face, back arched like a startled cat. He turns to leave, but before he can slip back out the door —
“Nico!”
The son of Hades whips back around so quickly he brains himself on the doorframe. Percy ducks his head and bites his lip, hard, because he can feel Nico’s glare at the side of his head like the press of hot coal, and if he laughs as badly as he wants to then the infirmary is about to look like a Spirit Halloween.
Will turns back to his patient, squeezing his eyes shut and rattling a hymn off so quickly it makes a burst of light pop from his whole body, and rushes over to where Nico’s standing. He only trips over two things, which is remarkable for him. Percy would be proud if he wasn’t a little embarrassed on his behalf.
“Nico! Hi!”
“He-ey, Will,” Nico says, voice cracking badly on every vowel. Annabeth shoves her face into Percy’s shoulder, body shaking.
“I didn’t know you were coming! I thought you were in the arena all day.”
Nico shrugs, shoes scuffing the floor. “I am. I just — uh, I got hurt? So. Came to see you.”
Will’s beam is so bright it hurts to look at, a little. Percy squints and realises that’s not just the excitement, actually — he really is glowing, faintly. His hands flap slightly at his sides.
“Well, you’re in the right place, then.”
“Yeah.”
Neither of them say anything for a minute, rocking back on their heels. Will watches Nico closely, biting his lip. Nico looks resolutely at the floor.
“We weren’t this bad,” Annabeth whispers, “were we?”
Percy shakes his head. “Nah, there’s no way.”
“Gods. It’s so — I don’t know whether to smile or take a dip in the Lethe. It’s embarrassing and endearing at the same time.”
“Painful to watch, but I can’t stop looking,” Percy agrees.
“What’d you hurt?” Will asks, finally. “Did you pull your shoulder again?”
A look of panic flits briefly across Nico’s face until he smooths it to something neutral, aloof.
“Yep. Totally. During — sword fighting, I swung — I did this really big thrust, actually. Just — hugely powerful, training dummy exploded on impact.” He clears his throat. “Some might say too powerful. If you can imagine.”
Percy cradles his head in his hands. “Oh my gods — ”
“Don’t laugh don’t laugh don’t laugh,” Annabeth chants, “oh my gods, don’t laugh —”
A light flush dusts Will’s cheeks. He brushes a strand of hair behind his ear, fiddling with his earrings. “Woah, really? I’ve never heard of that before.”
Nico smirks, standing up a little straighter. “Well, it’s not the first time. I tend to go pretty hard.” Remembering his supposedly hurt shoulder, he exaggerates a wince. “Too hard sometimes, I guess. Could you do the — the energy thing?”
“Oh — gods, yeah, sorry. Hold on.” He stares at Nico’s shoulder, hesitating. “It, um, works better with skin-to-skin contact.”
“I have seen crystal vases less transparent,” Annabeth says, aghast. “In two years he’s going to remember this and try to drown himself.”
“I will be counting down the days,” Percy says gleefully.
On rare, rare occasions, the gods answer his prayers. Clearly, both Nemesis and Aphrodite are looking at him kindly today. Percy makes a note to scrape some of the good stuff off his plate for them both today. Hell, maybe he’ll skip the portioning and toss them an entire roast chicken each. Or something. They deserve it.
Will places both hands — interesting, Percy notes, his wrist was snapped cleanly in two and he only needed one hand, wonder why that was — on Nico’s shoulder and closes his eyes, screwing up his face in concentration.
“Huh. I’m not feeling much damage. You said it was your right shoulder?”
“I heal quick,” Nico says loudly. “I mean, some of the damage might have — um.” He clears his throat. His face glows a faint crimson. He clears his throat again. “Y’know?”
Will’s face is a similar shade.
“Right, right. Yeah. Um, brace yourself.”
Instead of starting to sing, Will closes his eyes, holding completely still. After a moment, the tips of his fingers begin to glow; soft, ambery yellow, flickering like lit candles. He opens his eyes again and focuses intently on Nico’s bare skin, tracing patterns around every defined muscle, leaving a trail of light behind. He lingers, for a moment, when he connects the last string of light, waiting until it has faded entirely from Nico’s skin to remove his hands and shove them in the pockets of his coat.
“That better?” he asks softly.
Nico swallows. “Yeah.”
“Good. I’m glad, Nico. It means a lot that you — came to me. When you needed it.”
“I trust you, I guess.” Nico looks away. “You know what you’re doing.”
“I think I just threw up in my mouth a little,” Percy says thoughtfully.
Annabeth laughs, shoving his shoulder. “Don’t be mean.” She pauses. “Me too.”
With a sigh that can only be described as besotted, Will steps reluctantly away.
“I have patients,” he says, in the same tone of voice Percy usually says I have midterms. “So I gotta…”
“Yeah, no, go. Do your —” Nico gestures vaguely. “Doctor thing.”
“Right. Yeah. I’m gonna — go.” He turns, walking back towards a group of Hephaestus kids who appear to be tightly entangled in some kind of net. After a few steps, though, he pauses, biting his lip, then darts back over to Nico, pressing a lightning-fast kiss to his cheek — “Um, bye. Thank you for visiting. Bye,” — and then runs back over to his siblings, shy smile on his face.
Nico’s jaw is brushing the floor of his father’s palace. He stands, still as a statue, for four entire minutes.
“I think he just died,” Annabeth observes, eyebrows climbing higher and higher up her forehead with every passing second “Damn. Survived so much only to literally die because a cute boy kissed his cheek. A true hero’s end.”
Percy, because he is a kind, concerned friend, clears his throat loudly.
“Yo, di Angelo, you alive?”
Nico startles so violently he falls right over. Percy shoves his fist in his mouth to keep from cackling.
“Shut the fuck up,” Nico hisses venomously, scrambling upright. “Both of you, shut the — not a word —”
Percy and Annabeth make the mistake of looking at each other and simply erupt. Percy can’t feel his stomach. His lungs have abandoned ship. He’s glad as hell he’s in the infirmary because he is heaving for breath, tears streaming down his face, entire body convulsing. Nico stands in front of them literally shaking with rage, entire body redder than one of Apollo’s sacred cows, trying and failing to string together a threat that will ease any and all of his suffering. Annabeth screeches, almost falling off the bed as she cackles. Percy cannot even find the strength to catch her, his muscles are so weak.
“I fucking — I hate you! Both of you! You’re dead to me!”
“Your face!” Percy shrieks.
“Percy Jackson, I am going to turn you to fucking dark matter! I despise your very essence! I —” He stomps his foot. “I’m leaving, and I’m going to leave a rotting corpse in your cabin! Screw you!”
“Oh my gods,” Annabeth wheezes, digging her nails into his arm. “Oh my gods, that was —”
Percy wipes a tear from his eye. “I love being alive. I love being alive so much.”
“It really is great.” Composing herself, and biting back the leftover giggles that keep bubbling out, Annabeth looks back towards Will. He stands much straighter, now, smile back to full brightness. His siblings, too, look rejuvenated, snickering to each other and making kissy faces behind Will’s back. “So many beautiful things to witness. I’ve never seen his face go that red.”
Percy sighs. “This is genuinely going to carry me through the semester. I think his soul died a little. And Will just — gods, that kid is bold.”
“Oh says you, Mr. Do I Get A Good Luck Kiss.”
“Hey, I earned that.”
Annabeth grins, punching him in the shoulder. He grabs her wrist and tugs her towards him, chasing the curve of her smile. She laughs into his mouth and it taste like strawberries and freedom, and he presses a kiss to her cheek, to her jaw, and the side of her neck, resting there, breathing against her skin. After a moment her hands come up and slide in his hair, gently untangling the knotted mess.
“He is one thousand percent going to put a zombie in your bed, you know,” she says after a moment.
Percy snorts. “Yeah, I know.” He smiles. “Worth it.”
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emphistic · 26 days
Text
Doctor's Orders
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Synopsis: Sukuna catches a cold, and isn't able to make it to your guys' planned lunch. Luckily for him, though, you still take the food — as to-go.
A/N: i have a lot of works planned, but im kinda slow, thankfully i have a lot of free time now so i'll try to pump out as much sukuna content as i can
PS: i got sick the second day of writing this, why world? whyyyyy? also, i hated writing this. i am not proud of this whatsoever
Taglist: @starlets-things
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You
Hey
R u dead or smth??
You're late
Delivered 25m ago
Those were the last text messages you sent Sukuna, before picking up two hummus wraps and drinks from Sunny's Diner. The two of you were originally supposed to meet up there and have lunch together, but the pink-haired teen wasn't answering his phone, at all.
Now, you stand before his front door. A to-go bag tucked under your arm, and another hand rapidly knocking on the door.
Mr. Itadori — Sukuna's grandpa — wasn't home, you assumed, so you were alone in this.
Sighing, you decided to do this the old fashioned way.
It took you less than five minutes to climb the tree outside of Sukuna's bedroom, and five seconds to crawl on a branch to his window.
Finally, you pressed your face up against his window, and saw Sukuna — still in bed — with the blankets covering all of his body.
You aggressively knocked on his window, and saw him moving under the blankets before sticking a head out. He immediately fell back onto his bed at the sight of you.
He looked awful; there were bags under his eyes; his hair looked like a bird's nest, not to mention, he was sweating all over.
"Open the window!" You shouted, loud enough for him to hear, but quiet enough to not disturb the peace in the neighborhood.
Despite being outside, you could practically imagine his groan at the sound of your voice.
Sukuna knew he had no choice, though, so he begrudgingly got out of bed, and walked — no, wobbled — over to his window. His arms felt like Jell-O as he opened his window, and you crawled into his bedroom.
As soon as your feet touched the floor, you felt a familiar weight fall upon you, before you crashed into the wall and onto the floor. You were in a pile of tangled limbs.
"Sukunaaaaa, oww!" You rubbed your forehead.
You tried to stand back up, but the boy's body would not give you the chance to.
"Get off of me, you slug."
"I'm good." He mumbled into your neck.
"You're too heavy," you pushed at the older's shoulders until he finally rolled off of you.
You sighed in relief. "Thank God."
You stood up, pulling Sukuna with you. Despite his size, you had to practically hold him, and yourself, up.
"You look like shit." You cupped his face to get a good look at his condition.
"Wanted to look like you."
"Well, you failed. I'm flawless."
You maneuvered the boy to his bed and let him flop down onto his stomach, before you rolled him over on his back to a more comfortable position.
You grabbed a blanket and placed it onto Sukuna, and you sat down on the side of his bed, your hand placed just inches away from his head.
"So, like, you gonna tell me what's wrong?" You raised a brow.
"What do you think, dumbass. I'm sick," he coughed, "duh." Sukuna quickly retorted, curling onto his side in order to put his head on your lap.
"How'd you get sick?"
Sukuna glared up at you.
You sigh, carding your fingers through his pink, unruly hair. He hummed, clearly content. And if you didn't know better, you would probably assume he was purring.
"Oh! I almost forgot," you rummaged through your bags; Sukuna grumbled at the lost feeling of your hands in his hair almost immediately. "I got food for us. Since someone decided not to show up."
You placed his hummus wrap — covered in foil — onto his bedside table, and set yours likewise.
"Have you eaten yet, 'Kuna?"
"I haven't had breakfast," he murmured.
"You could've just said a quick 'no'."
"Girls are so bossy."
"Hey—"
Sukuna cut you off with a whine. "Ughh, my throat hurts. And my head is throbbing."
You rubbed your chin with your thumb and index finger. You put the back of your hand against Sukuna's forehead. "You have a fever."
"Really? I couldn't tell."
"Take off your shirt," you demanded.
"In your dreams."
"More like my nightmares," you giggled, before helping Sukuna to remove his shirt.
You stood up to walk to his bathroom; Sukuna was quick to pull you back by the wrist. Even when he's sick, he's still got a strong grip.
"And where do you think you're going?"
You tugged your arm out of his grasp, "Don't."
You managed to enter the bathroom — without any more nagging from Sukuna — and grabbed a towel, soaking it in cold water.
Then, you walked back into his room, and placed it atop his forehead. Sukuna immediately went to remove it, before you swatted his hand away.
"Get this thing off of me. It's freezing," Sukuna scowled.
You had to restrain yourself from putting him in shackles, "This is literally helping you. So, shut up. You talk too much."
"This is literally," he coughed, "my house. Don't tell me what to do, girl."
"Doctor's orders."
"Nuh uh, you're far from a doctor. More like a witch instead," Sukuna snickered.
You rolled your eyes, already used to Sukuna's antics by now.
"Do you have medicine anywhere in the house?" You asked, caressing his cheek and rubbing it with your palm.
"Mmhm." He nuzzled his face impossibly closer into your hand.
You sighed, "C'mon. Work with me here, 'Kuna. Where's the medicine?"
A long break of silence, "'m not gonna tell you."
"Tell me, or else, or else I'll — ," you thought for a moment, "or else I'll tell your grandpa. And you know how he takes of people when they're sick."
Sukuna's eyes immediately shot open. He knew his grandpa's old fashioned ways.
"It's in the cabinet in the kitchen. The one above the fridge."
You struggled to reach, having to stand on your tiptoes, but at last, you brought a bottle filled with red liquid and a measuring cup to Sukuna's bedroom.
When you entered, he immediately started to move away from you. Alas, he only had so much room on his bed.
"I would rather die, than drink that shit." Sukuna pointed at the cup with his finger.
"Then die," you quipped back, shoving the cup — that you filled with medicine — into his hands.
Sukuna glared at you, but you remained unwavering in your demand. When he realized there was no point in trying to argue, he leaned his head back and drank.
"Weirdo," you sneer.
"What's the problem now?" Sukuna placed the now empty cup on his table and fell back onto his bed, covering his eyes with an arm.
"You drank the medicine like it was a shot."
"Doesn't matter."
Sukuna began to cough, and cough, and cough. He sat upright.
You rubbed his back.
Sukuna felt utterly selcouth. He never had someone help him through a sickness. Sure, Grandpa was always there, but he's different. Sukuna's had tutors, coaches, people whose jobs were to help. But it wasn't your job.
"Why?" Why do you help me? Sukuna asked.
You know why. But those words never left your mouth. Instead,
"Shh. Be quiet. Let me take care of you."
At the end of the day, you knew why you were helping Sukuna. And Sukuna knew how you were helping him.
You tucked him in, raised the blanket up to his shoulders, adjusted the towel on his forehead, and kissed his forehead.
"Don't overexert yourself," you walked to the door, "I know you will."
Sukuna wanted to call your name, have you stay by his side, run your soft fingers through his hair for just a little longer, but his throat itched, and he didn't even have the energy to cough or sneeze. So, alas, he shut his eyes, and dreamt instead.
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nanathott · 11 days
Note
nanami would massage ur feet if u wear heels for too long🌠
god damn it he so would… gross disgusting fluff under the cut….
“how are you feeling?” nanami asked as he trailed closely behind you, only 2 steps behind you as you sat down on the couch. kento bent down on his knees and reached for your heel clad foot, placing it in his lap
“my head is spinning.” you complain, leaning your head into the palm of your hand to ease the ache the alcohol was putting on your brain. nanami nodded and hummed as he listened to you speak, all the while his large hands were working diligently to undo the uncomfortable straps of your heels
“i’ll get you some water in a moment, alright?” kento offered, keeping his eyes on your closed ones as he slid your heel off your foot and placed it by his side. you kept your eyes shut and nodded, letting nanami manhandle your limbs freely
he placed your now bare foot down on his hard thigh and reached for your other leg, cupping your shin in his hold as he repeated the same process once more. kento dragged his warm hands down the length of your shin, applying just the right amount of pressure, working out the knots in your shin, his other massaging the sides of the heel of your foot
“mmmm…” you softly moaned through your lips, feeling the tention leave your body as nanami worked out the knots in your tired legs and feet. “feel good?” kento asked? his eyes flitting between your beautiful leg and your pretty, relaxed face
“yeah, thank you kento. this is just what i needed.” you responded, fully resting the weight of your head in your hand. kento smiled and continued squeezing and pressing his hand and nimble fingers over the top of your foot and around the sides, making sure he didn’t apply too much pressure to the bottom of your foot that was already sore
kento’s heart felt full and his mind content as he massaged you, watching how your eyebrows knit and unknit as he listened to the pleasured sounds of your appreciative huffs and moans. you couldn’t help but crack your eyes open and smile down at him when you felt his plush lips against your ankle
nanami had lifted your leg to his face and had started peppering kisses up your shin, and a few on the top of your foot. his loving action made you sit up after you locked eyes
you sat up and leaned forward, resting your foot on his upper thigh, his hand still holding your ankle tight as you leaned in and cupped his hand in your face. you were going to speak, tell him how much you loved him, but instead you kept silent, staring into his eyes, looking at the right and the left, just cherishing this moment with him
after some amount of time, you leaned forward and captured his lips in a soft, gentle, lasting kiss. one that made the both of you gently inhale at, your eyebrows knitting the longer your lips stayed against his.
a soft clicking sound echoed between the two of you when you separated from him, rubbing your thumbs in circles against his temples softly as you stared into his eyes with a gently smile on your face
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thankyouivy · 5 months
Note
Hiii! I am reading allllll your blurbs and ffs and god I adore your writing!!!!!
Could you write about Spencer Reid and reader (no sub! Or dom! dynamic If it’s ok) in their early stages of their relationship (at this point they’ve already had sex and he found out he’s totally obsessed with eating her out), and pleads for her to sit on his face but she doesn’t wanna do it at first cause she’s a bit worried she might hurt him? But he begs her so much he convinces her and well… the rest I’ll leave it to you! ;)
If it’s alright with you of course💘💓💕💖💗
i got you babycakes!!!
warnings: oral sex [f rec], face sitting, begging, hair pulling, cumming untouched, this is just pure smut.
———
Need - Spencer Reid x Fem!reader
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“Please, sugar,” Spencer whispers into your ear.
He’s been asking you the same thing for the past few weeks, a fantasy of his that just won’t go away; he wants you to sit on his face.
Spencer is very into oral, specifically, eating you out for as long as you’ll let him. When you asked him about this, he explained thats it’s something called an oral fixation, he literally can’t get enough of it, which would add up, because you can count how many times the two of you have had sex without him giving you head on one hand.
(Evidently, all of those times had just been when you were too tired to go for an entire hour and just needed him inside you immediately, to which he had given you a little pout and then fulfilled your request.)
Whatever his reasoning is, eating you out gets both you and him off, and he wants more.
“Spencer, im just not sure about it, what if I hurt you?” You tell him. You’re straddling his hips while he’s laid out on his couch, you in a loose shirt and panties, and him in his work clothes, minus the tie.
“It’s completely safe if done properly, I did my research.” He reassures you, planting a kiss on your lips as he runs his hand up your back under your shirt.
“Research, huh?” You giggle at him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “mhmm,” he hums and smiles into another kiss.
As you pull apart, he whispers, “please baby, I want to make you feel so good… wanna taste you,” his voice is breathy and his pupils are blown wide with lust.
You whimper and grind down slightly in his lap, desperate for a little bit of friction as his words shoot straight to your core. He groans at your ministrations and you can feel him getting hard beneath you through your panties. “I want you to take what you need from me… grind that pretty little pussy on my tongue until you cum in my mouth…”
You moan at his words, bite your lip, and nod your head frantically. Who knew Spencer could be so persuasive?
Ecstatic that he finally got a yes out of you, Spencer lifts you off his lap momentarily and helps you pull your panties down and off your legs, biting his lip when he sees you’re soaked.
You start unbuttoning his shirt but only get to about half before he gets to impatient and pulls your own shirt over your head, exposing your bare chest. He bites his lip and places a hot, open-mouthed kiss on your lips, and you can feel him, rock hard through his suit pants.
He flops back down onto the couch, pulling you with him, as he shuffles down a bit more, giving room for your knees to sit on either side of his head.
Slowly, you crawl up his body, until you’re hovering above his face. His hair is messy and splayed out across the leather of his couch, his shirt is half off one shoulder, and he is visibly salivating as he stares directly at your core.
Noticing you still look a little unsure, he gives you a little smile. “if I need you to get off, which is extremely unlikely, I will tap your hip twice, alright, sugar?” He asks, and you nod. “You’re in control here, if you want to stop, we will stop.” He assures you, and you can’t help but blush. Could he get any sweeter?
Feeling more confident in the situation and a little less nervous, you slowly lower your hips onto his face, putting as little weight onto him as possible.
Immediately he licks into you, grabbing your hips and guiding them further onto him. You let out a gasp and your hips stutter away from the pleasure momentarily before he pulls you right back into his mouth.
His tongue runs through your folds, lapping up your wetness, and you moan loudly. His tongue flicks over your hardened clit, humming in delight when he feels you become wetter. You whine, letting more weight settle onto him and grinding into the teasing, hands searching for something to grab onto, eventually grabbing his hair with one and the armrest of the couch with the other.
You were reduced to soft moans, little uh’s and ah’s leave your mouth as your hips stutter and your eyes roll back into your skull.
He begins licking into your opening while his nose ruts against your clit and you throw your head back and shut your eyes tightly, moaning so loud the neighbours can probably hear everything that’s going on, but you can’t bring yourself to care.
“F- uck! oh my god, Spencer-” You cry out, and that just spurs him on. His own hips are twitching, arching off the couch as he eats you out.
Heat is coiling in your stomach, Spencers name is the only thing reverberating in your head. Why were you ever against this idea again?
“Oh- Ah- god Spencer- you’re gonna make me- holy- sh- it!” You cry
Spencer moans against you as you chant his name, frantically humping his face as he sucks on your clit.
“FUCK! I’m cumming!” You scream as your orgasm hits you like a freight train. You yank Spencer’s hair and your hips spasm on his face as Spencer lets out his own whimpers and cries. His hips thrust upwards as his own orgasm reaches him and his eyes roll back into his head.
Your back is arched and you’re leaning over him as you catch your breath. For a second you black out and completely forget you’re sitting on his face, but once you remember you quickly lift your hips up and look down at him with a worried expression.
Spencer looks completely blissed out. He gently rubs his large hands up and down your sides as you breathe heavily, and licks your slick off his lips. He grins at you, lust still evident in his eyes.
“We are so doing that again.”
More of my stuff can be found here.
~Ivy 🪴
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readychilledwine · 2 months
Note
Cassian who after you two realize you’re pregnant slowly stops doing as much training to spend time with you and your growing body.
Cassian who slowly starts eating the foods you crave so you don’t feel alone in the weird things you’re eating
Cassian who slowly starts getting a “dad bod” towards the end of your pregnancy, still keeping his muscle mass in his arms and legs, his abs are just starting to get a little more full.
Cassian who realizes you’re starting to like the dad bod more than the straight hard ass muscle and after the little babe is boring starts taking more days off of training to stay in his new body shape for you
I'm. Salivating.
Dadbod
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Summary - After the pregnancy and birth of your first daughter, you aren't the only one dealing with body changes
Warnings - insecure Cassian, suggestiveness and implied smut, teasing from Rhys and Azriel.
A/N -i want everyone to know what my vision of a "cut dadbod" is. It's Jason Momoa in Aquaman. He's lean, muscular, and cut, but he's not what cassian would typically be of rippling muscles and abs you can wash laundry on. So, I attached a picture of the image that came to mind while reading this 🤤🥴
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Your honor, I need him. Sexually.
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Cassian sighed loudly as he looked himself over in the mirror. There was no denying he had put on weight with your pregnancy, and especially with the pressures of fatherhood and a newborn, but Mother above you wanted him.
Your bottom lip was caught between your teeth as your eyes slightly glazed over, focused in on his strong arms and shoulders, on his chest, his stomach. Yes, cut abs no longer sat exposed all the time, begging to be licked between every ridge, but there was something about how his build now accentuated the v of his hips, how it highlighted his still trim waist without distracting from it.
Your mate was the most attractive male you'd ever laid eyes on. Not Rhys. Not Azriel. Not even the countless high fae you dealt with daily. None of them could hold a candle to Cassian and none ever would.
"I can feel you staring. I know I've gotten out of shape, you can just say it." His voice was laced with sadness. You could feel his disappointment running down the bond as he picked up your daughter, bouncing her as he smiled.
That was the other attractive thing about Cassian. Watching him be a father. Watching him with his daughter. Seeing his excitement over having a little girl. Cassian never expressed disappointment. He never made snide comments about your failure at providing a male, no. Cassian cherished her, his little baby bat, and thanked you for her profusely.
His love for her was part of why he had "Let himself go." He had gone from hours spent on the roof, training the priestess, training with Azriel and Rhys, training Feyre to each group receiving an hour of his time instead of his whole day. He wanted to be with her, not locked on the House of Wind, stuck hearing her small cries as the doorways carried them to him.
"Cassian, you are the sexiest I have ever seen you," you finally answered him, lip going back to your teeth. You wanted him, needed him. You two had not touched each other in so long.
"You don't have to lie, sweetheart. I know I'm not-"
"Stop it," it came out more forcefully than you had wanted. "I like your body. I love the way you look. I still want to fuck you senselessly daily. Just stop."
That conversation had changed everything. Cassian would never admit it, but he enjoyed having his days to himself. He enjoyed only allowing training to ocuppy 3 to 4 hours of his day versus almost 8.
And Gods, he loved how you looked at him now. He loved how much more you two snuggled, how you seemed more comfortable laying your head on his chest.
"Good morning, fuckers." Cassian effortlessly flipped the crepes he had been making for you when he heard Rhys and Azriel sit down at the kitchen island. "What do you want?"
Rhys looked at the unhealthy breakfast, one you constantly craved during pregnancy. "When do you two plan on being back to hard training and dieting?"
He knew Rhys was asking out of curiosity, but Cassian couldn't help but growl, more concerned about Rhys possibly mocking your post pregnancy body more than Cassian's own new dad body.
Azriel's spine straightened at the sound as he shot Rhys a look. "What our brother is trying to say, Cass, is we miss training with you all day on our days off, and we are concerned you are not taking time for yourself anymore."
The look Cassian gave them felt almost like he was attempting to murder them. Like he was warning them of the line they were risking. "My mate needs me and appreciates my help with our daughter. I like my current schedule. When she is older, will I maybe go back to a more training heavy schedule? Possibly. But for now, I am doing what's best for me and my family." And my sex life, he thought silently to himself as images of you riding him last night came to mind.
"We are just concerned, Cassian," Rhys stated softly. "About your growing daddy tummy." His smile broke out as he poked Cassian's abs, eyes widening over still feeling solid muscle below a slight layer of skin. "What the fuck?" Rhys stood, walking over to Cassian. "How are you still so fit?"
"He's fucking perfect, isn't he?" You walked into the room, a small head and wings poking out from the body wrap you were using to carry the daughter you shared with the general. "Delicious."
Azriel chuckled, moving to you to take the babe, but unsure if you meant the crepes or your husband. "As long as you two are happy, that's all that matters. I just was worried about your mental health, Cass. Mother knows your a vain creature that loved his abs more than breathing."
"Or eating."
"Or drinking."
"Or fucking," Rhys and Azriel went on as you moved to Cassian, arms wrapping around his strong biceps.
He looked in the mirror again that night, holding his daughter as he stared at his abs. This current body was a reminder to him of how life had changed, of the growth you two had done, the small life that was now phsyical evidence of the love you two shared. "Dad bod," he finally said. "I'd rather have my dad bod."
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amnesique · 8 months
Note
jealous conrad fisher? smut if you want, but it doesn't need to be
false god — conrad fisher
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(gif made by @conradfiisher , all credits to the creator)
warnings: SMUT (18+, MINORS DNI), car sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, p in v, slightly praise kink (not mentioned but—), NOT PROOFREAD
you were outside at a college party and you were talking to some guy that approached you while you were waiting for your boyfriend to show up. you didn't know what was taking him so long, but you were starting to feel uncomfortable that the guy wouldn't stop looking at you up and down, even though you already mentioned that you had a boyfriend who you were waiting for.
disconnecting from the conversation for a few seconds, you pulled out your phone and texted conrad, your boyfriend, to let him know that that guy was bothering you and to hell him to hurry up. exactly then the guy wrapped his arm around your neck, pulling you towards his body and forcing you to look up from your phone to his face.
"are you texting your boyfriend?" he asked, grinning like a douchebag, leaning even closer to you, if that was even possible.
what was wrong with him? didn't he believe you that you had a boyfriend or did he take it as some kind of a sick challenge?
you tucked your hair behind your ear, putting your phone back in your pocket, wanting to take his arm off of you, but he held you close. "yeah," you said, shifting your weight from one leg to the other. "i actually am," you smiled politely, trying in vain to be nice to such a piece of shit.
"where is he?"
"he is right fucking here," conrad's voice spoke from behind you two and it made you let out the breath you hadn't even realized you'd been holding, your body relaxing a bit as the guy removed his arm off of you to turn around and look at your boyfriend. "that's my girl in case you didn't know,” he added and moved closer to you and placed his hand protectively on your waist.
the boy threw his hands in the air, pretending not to know anything about it, and you almost laughed in his face, while conrad held back himself from killing him.
he left, so it was just you with conrad, but his grip around your waist hadn't loosened. he was still stressed, you could feel it in his touch, but at the same time your mind was going elsewhere when you remembered how his fingers felt on his skin.
"what was all that about?" he asked you, continuing to look in the direction the guy had taken her, but you couldn't help but look at how good he looked. your mind didn't seem to work every time he would appear around you, mostly when he would touch you like that.
you shrugged, and that was the first time he had ever looked only in your direction, focusing now all of his attention on you. "i did told him that i have a boyfriend, but i guess he took it as a challenge."
conrad grinned and he pressed you against his body, continuing to keep his hand around your waist. "you're so stunning, i'm not surprised he dared to take a look at what's mine," he said, caressing your cheek with the thumb of his free hand as you locked your gaze on his.
he knew the effect his words had on him. he knew how to make you melt in his hands, how to make you a complete disaster under his touch.
"are you saying you're jealous?" you asked, looking at his lips, noticing how he laughed and you felt your whole body shake when he did it.
"i don't have reasons to be jealous when i know i'm the only one you think of," he said and his hand moved from your cheek to the chain around your neck that he had given you, tugging on it gently.
you longed for his kiss, for him. and he knew it, and that's why he was dragging it out as long as he could, until he would've lost his mind too. it wasn't easy at all for him to look at you and not kiss you, but it was worth teasing you a little bit.
both of his hands moved down to your ass, on top of the material of your dress, pinning you against his body, and kissing your neck, making you rest your head on his shoulder and letting out a weak whimper right next to his ear.
his teasing was already becoming his torture because he couldn't afford doing more than this to you in public, so he whispered in your ear. "do you want to take this to my car?"
you nodded, feeling how he wanted you too because of the approaching between your bodies. "yes, please," you said and he grinned into your hair, staying a little longer in the moment and after that, he rushed to the car, pulling you by your hand after him.
you awkwardly chuckled behind him. it was kind of funny how needy you both were when it came to the other, how easily you would've ignite for one another.
when you two got to the car, the both of you stopped and looked at each other. conrad was unsure of his next move, and he just kept caressing your hand that he was still holding, looking at you as if he could see through you, even though it was actually dark where his car was parked. "soo," he said, exaggerating the last letter. "how will it go?"
you grinned at him, and he felt the ground slipping from under his feet, as you opened the driver's door, motioning for him to climb in first. he looked at you confused for a second, but your grin wouldn't go away, so he eventually caught on your idea, so he climbed in, pushing his chair all the way back and reaching his hand out to you.
you accepted his hand and sat yourself carefully with your thighs on either side of his lap as you closed the door immediately behind you.
you leaned into him, your chest pressing against his, and you kissed him, slowly, wanting to make him lose his mind like he did with you.
he placed one hand placed on your waist —and you let out a sound right then— and the other placed on your cheek, caressing it in circles. the ring on his thumb made such a lovely contact with the skin of your cheek and it made you lose yourself in the kiss, at one point even slightly parting your lips, at which point he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss.
your tongues teasing each other, fighting for dominance, as the kiss only increased your desire even more.
he had been the first to break the kiss, his hand still on your cheek and his breathing heavy as he said, "i need to feel you."
and you felt the same need.
you agreed, bringing your foreheads together, just enough to try and steady your breathing as you felt yourself starting to get even wetter at those words, and feeling him hard right under your ass.
because you were wearing a dress, you only had to deal with his clothes, so you slipped your hands between your bodies to undo his pants. feeling a little freer, conrad made a faint sound of relief, and he moved his hips a little higher —making your front sliding right against his erection, making you let out a soft sound as well—, to make your work easier.
once his jeans and his boxers were out of your way, you stood up a little, him helping you put your underwear aside, and when you laid back down on him. he buried himself inside of you, inch by inch, making you rest your head on his shoulder to mask the needy whimpers that escaped your lips.
he lifted your chin with two fingers, making you look into his green eyes that were burning into your skin, leaving his mark on you. “let me hear you,” he whispered, and then, seeing how you looked at him, he couldn't help but connect his lips with yours in another tender kiss.
his movements were full of desire, but also tender, moving somewhat slowly inside you as he kissed you like his life depended on it and as one hand of his massaged your clit.
you were grinding on top of him, putting your hands on either side of his neck as he helped you, holding you by your waist with his free hand, lifting you up and down on him.
it felt so good, way too good, that you started moaning into the kiss, knowing how much he loved hearing you.
"you're doing such a good job," he whispered in your ear, taking a break from kissing your lips, and going to place kisses on your neck.
you dropped your head to the side to give him more access to your neck, arching your back, and you felt yourself tighten slightly around him.
"just like that," he groaned next to your ear, increasing the rhythm in which he massaged your clitoris, him wanting to bring you to your orgasm as quickly as possible, because himself also couldn't last much longer.
your hands slid from around his neck to his shoulders, you pulling him close to you as the knot in your stomach felt too tight, almost close to breaking free.
both of your breaths had become rushed once again. you could hear him next to your ear as you could even hear yourself. that rushed they were.
"i'm sure no one could've made you feel this good, right?" he asked you, feeling your walls tighten more around him.
you nodded, chasing after your orgasm and starting to kiss him under his near, on his neck, on his jaw.
his jaw clenched, struggling to hold himself back a little longer, even if his movements had become sloppy. "tell me, do you think that douchebag would've made you feel this good?"
you couldn't believe what you were hearing, but still, his jealousy had just been what made you let go.
unable to hold on even longer, as he felt the release wash over you, and your breathing slowly beginning to ease against his neck, conrad let go as well, his release filling you as a little bit of it was leaking down your inner thighs.
with him still inside you and you on his shoulder, your breathing had calmed down, but you hadn't forgotten what he said exactly before you finished, so you looked up to look at his eyes.
"you said you're not jealous,” you said amused.
he looked at you with his lips parted and his short front hair catching in his eyes. "well, i'm not."
you moved a little on top of him, as he whimpered and you shivered, so you can put your hands around his neck and get a better look at him. "and then what was that before?"
“i don't know what you're talking about,” he wrapped his arms around your waist.
“you do,” you said with a grin on the corner of your mouth. “ too well” you added, as you leaned over him to capture his lips into another kiss.
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punching-pentagrams · 2 months
Text
Love in a Hopeless Place
Chapter 7
Chapter 1|Chapter 2|Chapter 3|Chapter 4|Chapter 5|Chapter 6|Chapter 7|Chapter 8|Chapter 9
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Lucifer x prostitute fem!reader Word Count: 3.9k CW: Slowburn, Prostitution, Hurt/comfort, trauma, fluff, cuddles, depression, anxiety, Sexual fantasizing, insecurity
Lucifer's eyes started to flutter open the next morning, a beam of light streaming in through the living room window. Wow, had he actually gotten a full uninterrupted night's rest again? What a pleasant surprise. He smiled as he looked up at the ceiling if his living room. Wait... his living room? Was he still on the couch? He was used to you bringing him back to his bed after he fell asleep, what hap-
Lucifer's thought process completing froze as he became aware of the weight holding his body down to the couch, specifically, the weight of your beautiful body, that still laid on him, sound asleep. Lucifer felt his cheeks burn a bright red. 'Oh my god, she feel asleep on me last night?! This is amazing, this is also terrible. Will she get mad? Will her boss get mad at her? Should I wake her up?' God he didn't want to have to wake you up. The sight of you curled up on him with your head on his chest was breathtaking. Shit... he really had fallen for you, hadn't he?
Lucifer had no idea what to do, he many ideas of what he wanted to do, but not what he should do. He could run his fingers through your hair, kiss your forehead, rub your back, any of those things could have encouraged you awake. But instead, he just sleepily watched you dreaming on his chest, until you eventually started to wake up.
After a little while, your eyes began to open. You too had experienced an amazing night of sleep that you were not used to. Perhaps all that crying gelling did you some good. But something felt off, where were you? You looked up to see Lucifer's smiling face, "Hehe, uhh... good morning, I guess."
Oh my god, had you cried yourself to sleep in his arms?! Lucifer cocooned you again in his wings before you could panic.
"Shit! Lucifer I'm so-"
"Shhhh shh shhh shh," Lucifer stopped you, "No apologizes, please. Yesterday was... hard, seemed like we both needed sleep, and frankly, I slept great. What about you?"
You blushed, and laid you head back on his chest while still looking up at him, mumbling, "Well, I guess that's the best I've slept... in a long time..." It was the best you had slept since you had arrived in hell.
"Excellent! So, lets just call it a happy accident, that we figured something out from. Also..." God he was trying to be a little bold and it made him nervous, "Would you be willing to try this again... but intentionally next time?"
"Like... have me stay through the night? And... sleep with you in your bed?" You asked.
"Yes..." he asked with a little more hesitance in his voice. You chuckled, look at him go, asking for what he wants, and so nicely too.
You smiled and shrugged, "Works for me, just let the boss know."
"Right..." he said, he was starting to hate the reminders that you weren't just here because you wanted to be. He wasn't upset at you, it just left him with a pang of insecurity, a curiously if you would even put up with him if it weren't for the fact that he hired you to be here.
He cleared his throat, trying to refocus. "You won't... get into any trouble for this, right?"
You waved your hand, "Naw, I'll just tell him I was out late partying. After what happened yesterday, he wouldn't bat an eye."
"Ok, how are you feeling, by the way?" he asked, looking over your face.
"Much better... Thank you... for... well everything..." you smiled nervously. You still felt guilty that Lucifer had to spend his paid time with you dealing with the aftermath of other client sessions, you were normally better than that. He seemed like he wanted to be there for you, but you had no idea why he would even want to. It felt so good, but you still could not tell how real or how deep the care actually ran. If this continued, the guilt and confusion might become overwhelming.
"It was my pleasure," he said, grabbing you hand and kissing it while staring deeply into your eyes.
Ugh, why did this have to be so hard to figure out!
After that, the two of you begrudgingly got up, and got ready for the day. Lucifer teleported you back to your room, bit you farewell, and left. Both of you back in your own spaces, alone, already missing the other.
______________________________________________________________
The next night you two had together, you and Lucifer would change the end of night routine as had been discussed, ending up with you both falling asleep in each others arms, and getting the joy of waking up to seeing each other first thing in the morning. It was beyond bliss. You didn't know it, but you two were in a secret competition to see who could wake up first, and get the privilege of watching the other as they clung onto their last few minutes of sleep before they would wake up.
The mornings that Lucifer woke up before you were both beautiful and painful for him. He loved getting to stare at your beautiful face, sure, but the urges... oh the urges to run his fingers through your hair, the urges to lace his fingers with yours, the urges to kiss your forehead, your cheeks, your lips, your neck, your... everything... the urges to let his hands explore your body, to sneak his hands under your clothing, to find the sensitive places on your skin that would make your breathe hitch, make the fire grow in your eyes, make you want to touch him the same way... the pain of all of these urges pulled at his mind, every morning, every day.
Some of them he could get away with more once you were awake, fingers through your hair, kisses on your hands, but he wanted more. Beyond that, he wanted them to mean something. He knew that he could just ask you for kisses or sex, and you would say yes, but he didn't want that, he wanted it to be real, he wanted passion, he wanted to make love to you. Every day with you made those feelings grow stronger and more unbearable.
Luckily, at least for another couple weeks, Lucifer would still be distracted by the upcoming extermination, and he figured that it was best that he focused on one life altering event at a time. You and Lucifer would spend more of your evenings hanging out with Charlie and the others at the hotel. Alastor had helped Charlie recruit many of the people of Cannibal Town to help, much to Lucifer's chagrin, and Vaggie had also gotten some intel on angels being able to be killed with angelic weapons, and was able to get resources from Carmilla Carmine, another Overlord and the only Angelic Weapon-Arms Dealer in hell.
Lucifer did not like learning that angels could be killed for a number of reasons, but he tried not to focus on that right then. Right now, he cared about being there for Charlie, and enjoying the calm before the storm.
The night before the extermination, most of the hotel crew, honestly, seemed like they were in good spirits. Alastor was even behaving and not doing everything in his power to piss of Lucifer, just some minor loitering on the edge of his conversations around the hotel. Angel and Husk were hanging out at the bar, and Angel's best friend, Cherri Bomb, had also come to hang out to join the fight. You noticed that Angel and Husk had increasingly been giving each other cute looks, and that Sir Pentious was nervous when it came to any interaction involving Cherri.
What you didn't know, was that Angel, Husk, and Cherri had also been watching the way you and Lucifer interacted over the last couple of weeks, the way you too looked at each other, the way his touch would linger, or that any hug would last a littleeee too long for a hug between just friends. Whenever you were not at the hotel, those three would come up with theories on what was going on with you two.
At some point, you ended up in a conversation with those three, chatting it up, and eventually Angel was the one that finally brought it up.
"Alright, babe. So...spill it. What exactly is goin' on between you an' da Boss Man, hmm?" Angel said, leaning his hand on one of his hands with a cocked eyebrow. You were startled by the question. Shit.
"Uhhh... w-what do you mean?" you say sheepishly, messing with your hair.
"I think you know exactly what I'm talkin' about~" Angel replied with a wiggle of his eyebrows.
"I-uhhh..." you started.
"Come on, (y/n), cut the crap," Husk chimed in, cleaning a cup. "Ya!" Added Cherri, "We can all tell you two are seriously vibin' with one anotha," she said in her spunky Australian accent.
'Shit, had these three really been that curious about my relationship with Lucifer? Was it that obvious? I have been just trying to follow his lead on things when we visited.'
"I mean... we are just really close, and comfortable with each other... that's all," you say, not trying to look at them directly.
"But how close are you too exactly?" asked Husk. "Yaaaa, like bedroom close~?" Angel pushed in his flirty voice, talking a little louder.
You quickly covered Angel's mouth with your hands, looking around, no one else had seemed to hear him. Lucifer was across the room, chatting with Charlie and Vaggie, and Alastor seemed more focused on listening in on their conversation than yours. You look back to see Husk and Cherri with satisfied looks on their faces, along with a twinkling mischief in Angel's eyes.
You sigh and remove your hands, "Look, guys, I really want to talk about the details around my dynamic with Lucifer, but... I really can't... I'm not allowed. Even saying that might be too much..."
The trios' faces became more concerned. "Wait... he doesn't... own your soul, does he?" Husk asked.
"Oh! No, no, nothing like that. And he has been nothing but kind to me. It's just... not something I can talk about... no matter how much I may want to..." you say, holding yourself and looking down sadly. The other two looked to Husk, Husk looked sadly back at them, he could tell this was not a bluff, you were telling the truth.
Lucifer glanced across the room at you, and was surprised to see your body language had suddenly changed from how it had been during the rest of your conversation with the others at the bar. Your body language looked more sad to him. Lucifer briefly excused himself from his conversation with Charlie and Vaggie, saying he would be right back, and made his way over to you.
Cherri, Lucifer, and Husk saw Lucifer approaching, and he giving off a protective look of 'what did you do?' before putting a hand on your back.
"Darling? Is everything ok?" Lucifer said, his face softening as he looked down at you.
Your head spang up at his sudden contact and sound of his voice, 'Crap, did he hear any of that?'
You looked up at him in surprise. "Oh! Ya... sorry, we were talking about Adam and the battle tomorrow... just made me think about how worried I have been for you all..." you say sadly. The other three relax once they realized you were covering for them, Husk almost didn't like how good you were at pulling out a story like that, but right now he cared more about not pissing off the King.
Lucifer sighed and ran his finger through your hair, before pulling you in for a comforting hug, "I know... we are gonna get through this." He looked over at the other three over your shoulder, smiling, "Together."
The others smiled back at Lucifer and he released you from the hug before asking if you felt like we needed to leave for the evening. You shook your head, telling him you wanted to stay longer. He nodded, and then walked back to his conversation with Charlie and Vaggie.
"Well, one thing is for sure," Husk said looking after Lucifer, "That man cares a lot about you."
You blushed, you hoped so, you hoped and prayed that was true. But because of the structure, no matter what he said or did, you always had some level of doubt hanging in the back of your thoughts. You wish you didn't have to second guess every interaction. You wish you knew how an actually health dynamic looked like so that you had something to compare to. Most of all, you wished you didn't have to be scheduled and paid in order to see him. Would he even want to see you outside of the time he pays for you?
"How do you know?" you asked Husk. Husk gave you a soft smile, "No man spends as much time as he does constantly checking in on you if he does not care."
You cock an eyebrow, "But, he doesn't constantly check on me."
"Maybe from you're perspective," Angel chimed, "That mothafucka is constantly lookin' over at you, why do ya think he was over here so fast as soon as you started pullin' into ya'self. Which, thanks for da save by da way. I am not ready ta get on his bad side."
You looked over your shoulder at here at Lucifer, a moment later, he looked at you, smiled, and waved. You waved back, and looked back to the others.
"See? Man's totally whipped," said Cherri. Doubted that, Lucifer having feeling for someone like you? Ya right. But you could see how they would think that way without knowing the truth behind your relationship, and they made a fair point, he did care to some degree. You couldn't keep the blush from tinting your cheeks. I mean I guess he did send a man to be tortured for all eternity for hurting you, that has to mean something... No matter how small.
Before long, it was time to go. You hugged everyone goodbye that wanted hugs. While hugging Charlie you said, "Kick his ass honey, I'd really hate to lose a good housing option." Charlie beamed and hugged you even tighter, to the point where it almost hurt, "We will! We'll get you set up right after we kill all of the angels or kick their asses back up to Heaven!"
You laughed, said goodbye, and you and Lucifer departed back to his place. Little did you know, that would be your last time inside of that hotel.
______________________________________________________________
Sleep had not come easily for both of you that night, but it did all the same. Your time at Lucifer's did not end the following morning, Lucifer had booked out the rest of your day, he did not want to risk you getting caught if an exterminator if the angels were successful at wiping out everyone at the hotel and started going after the rest of the sinners. He knew the exorcists would not go anywhere near his house, Here, at least, he knew that you would be safe.
You wanted to help, but you knew you weren't a fighter, and giving Lucifer some peace so that he could fight when it came down to it was more important. Lucifer already had his hands tied in this situation. He had been the one to originally allow the exterminations to happen in Hell, mostly because he had no clue what else to do and he had been backed into a corner in that initial discussion with Heaven.
There was one rule however, that if broken, would allow him to fight, that rule being that hellborns were not allowed to be harmed. Funny, that a rule that he originally set in place to protect Charlie was now the rule that he hoped would get broken in order for him for be able to fight, and the only hellborn in this fight was Charlie, well, and Razzle and Dazzle too. Lucifer had created them as guardians to protect Charlie, and creations fell into a weird catagory. But an attack on them normally meant an attempted attack on her. He had to gamble that one of them would get hurt, but not so hurt that Charlie would be erased. It was a very uncomfortable situation, but nothing about this whole situation was anyway.
The two best case scenarios were that they could take out everyone, including Adam, without hurting Charlie, so Lucifer would never be needed, or for Charlie/her guardian's to get lightly hurt, so that Lucifer could jump in. Once he was able to jump in, the battle would basically be over. You didn't know much about how powerful Adam was, you had only seen small bits of Alastor and Lucifer's power, and nothing of Charlie's ability to fight him off. You had no idea how this was going to play out.
Lucifer however, knew how powerful Adam was, as well as his and Charlie's power, and he had a small idea of Alastor's power based on how he had defended the hotel a month ago. Lucifer didn't think that Alastor was going to be able to take out Adam completely, but he thought he would be able to most like put up a good fight, delay him, maybe get a few good hits in. If Charlie was as much of a fighter at Lucifer was, he wouldn't be as worried, but she was a gentle soul and didn't utilize her powers a lot. It was gonna be hard to tell how this was going to go.
Lucifer sat on the couch, tense, holding your hand, wings already out, waiting for the signal, waiting for the energy between him and Charlie to activate that would inform him that Charlie or her guardians had been hit. Before long, the sensation of a sting of shared pain ran through his body. He quickly kissed you on the forehead, said "See you on the other side," and jumped through a portal out to the battlefield.
You were now alone with your own fear.
You went to the window to see if you could see the hotel from his manor, but you barely couldn't. All you could do was pace around the house, waiting for Lucifer to return. You thought about turning on the tv or radio to listen for any news, maybe looking for a livestream on your phone, but no, all of that would have just made it worse. So you paced, until you decided to lay on the floor and stare at the ceiling, trying hard just to breathe.
Until... a portal opened up. You sat up, looking at the portal, through the swirling red magic, you saw a familiar black claw reach out to you. You smiled, as the image continued to clear up, and you could see Lucifer, next to Charlie, and Vaggie, Angel, Husk, Cherri, Niffty... all covering in golden blood, except for Lucifer who looked exactly the same as when he left.
You felt tears well up in your eyes as you jumped through the portal into the arms of your friends. You all hug in a group before Lucifer picked you up and spun you around. After the laughter and smiles you looked around, something was missing, something big. It was quiet.
"Where are Alastor and Pentious? And... oh my god! The hotel!" you said realizing that it was not only some friends that were missing, but that the group was literally standing on the rocky remains of the Hazbin Hotel.
Charlie rubbed her arm, "Pentious... Pentious scarified himself for us... Adam killed him... he's... he's gone. And, umm... we aren't entirely sure what happened to Alastor either... He was fighting Adam, and the next thing we knew, Adam was out fighting the rest of us. We haven't seen him since. And... ya... Adam took out the hotel."
"And I took out the Bad Angel Man!" Niffy said, proudly holding up her little dagger, both her at it covered in bright golden blood.
You and the others laughed at Niffy's excitement, but your heart broke for your friends, you hadn't really gotten to know Sir Pentious very much, but your knew he had meant a lot to the hotel crew. You hoped that Alastor had found a way to slip out or something, he was... a unique individual... but he was also an important piece to the hotel. And the hotel...
Lucifer grabbed your hand, "The hotel, however, we can fix." He said with a smile, "Wanna help us build a hotel?"
You smiled, finally something you were able to do to help.
"Lets do this!"
The rest of the afternoon was spent with the whole crew building up a new Hazbin Hotel, one that was even bigger and better than the previous one. You had no idea that it was possible to set up a new building in an afternoon, but with Lucifer's extraordinary magic and an amazing team, the shining new doors of the hotel were gleaming and open again.
Lucifer could not stop smiling the whole rest of the afternoon, to have a purpose behind his creativity and powers of creation, to have a community again that liked him, to have his daughter back and getting to support her dreams, and to have you, you who made all this happiness fall into place again. Getting to beat the shit out of Adam had also been quite enjoyable.
He looked down at the wedding ring that was still on his left hand, after wearing it for so long, he had forgotten that it wasn't just a part of him, it was his reminder of Lilith. He would still always have love and care for Lilith, but the time of her had come to an end, and you were his new horizon. He wasn't ready to take off the ring just yet, he didn't want to tip anyone off, but god did he just want to toss of the ring, swoop down from the sky, scoop you up, kiss you, and tell you how much he loved you in front of all of hell, but this wasn't the time. This day was about Charlie and her dream. Plus... he was still really fucking nervous and didn't know how to say it to you.
Eventually, Alastor manifested himself back from the shadows and re-joined the group, Lucifer and Husk were... less than thrilled, but everyone else was happy, including you. The group celebrated at their new beautiful hotel together late into the night.
Eventually, you and Lucifer split off for the night to celebrate the rest of the night together snuggling in each other's arms. You fell asleep first that night, and Lucifer spent his last few minutes awake looking at your beautiful face in the darkness or his room, daydreaming about the best way to tell you how he felt.
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Don't get too comfortable! I've got one more twist in store for these two :) xoxo, dany As usual, leave a comment if you want added to the taglist so that you can get notifications when future chapters drop!
Taglist: @froggybich @wonderlandangelsposts @glowinthedarkbones1150 @marydragneell @crescent-z @superdinosaurnacho @jam0001 @kyo-kyo1 @so-get-this-sammy @lilzebeth @kelppsstuff @loquacious-libra @pinkhoneydrop @luleck @writer-girl99 @lavenz @stormz369 @littleladydemon @soujiswife @melday0105 @luluxx118 @sseleniaa @futureittomainn @cktkat @zaneyyyy @uravitsy @liecoris @starlitvenus @hannahrose130 @elleofdragons @butch-medusae @concentratedconcrete @erosamasan
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onelittlespiral · 3 months
Text
FML: Overbaked
I’m playing around with the format on these a little bit. This story has two endings, one of which is here and the other of which can be found here: FML: Underbaked
Consider this the more corruptive ending.
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I’ll say up front that this one is on me. My boyfriend and I had been going steady for a while now. He was cute and smart, but after a few years he just wasn’t the kind of guy I could see myself spending the rest of my life with. Things had just gotten… bland. We hardly ever went on dates, spent most weekends apart doing our own hobbies, and sex was a bit like going through the motions. I wanted a change. So, I ordered one. A new “white noise” machine. But it did a bit more than that. You just adjusted the settings and in a few nights it could grow, shrink, age, add hair, add muscle. I think I even saw a setting for a gender flip. It cost a pretty penny but I figured it would be worth it. I ran it for a while with no settings, just so he would get used to it. But, when I had a business trip that was going to take me out of town for the weekend, I figured it was a perfect time to see what it could do.
Before I left I opened the hidden panel and decided to start pretty simple. I would just program it to make him bigger. More buff, more masculine, maybe a bit more dominant. Could be a nice change to get taken care of when I got back. I dialed in the knobs, said my goodbyes, and flew off for the weekend. Meanwhile, back at home, my sweet boyfriend dozed and grew, none the wiser to his changes. And there were some changes. By the time I flew in Sunday night, a whole new man was there to greet me.
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“Hey babe, you miss me?” In just a few days he had ballooned in size. His biceps were thick, easily picking me up into an embrace. His pecs were strong and juicy as I held onto them while gazing in his eyes. His kiss was strong and assertive, as he slipped his tongue in my mouth. He tasted like whiskey and smelled like fresh cut sandalwood. And his cock was girthy, as I felt it slowly swell and press up against me. I gave in as he pushed me down to the bed and unbuttoned his jeans. My pants were on the floor in a moment as I laid back in just my jockstrap, ready to receive him.
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He pulled me down to the end of the bed, and slowly massaged my puckering hole. I don’t know if the machine somehow taught him how to handle me but as he worked is fingers inside it was so easy to relax and let him stretch me out. He replaced his fingers. I felt his cock, firm and throbbing, as it slid into me. I squeezed as I adjusted to his new size. I felt so full, but it just kept sliding in. As he began to hit my prostate a surprising moan escaped my lips.
“That’s right babe, open up for me.” He leaned in and gave me a kiss. His beard was soft, his lips pillowy. I felt every motion of his body, every little adjustment sent a throbbing through my body. “You’re so cute like this. You ready for daddy’s cock?”
I could only let out an anticipatory whimper as he slowly began thrusting. With one hand he caressed my torso, the other he held my shoulders in place. I was anchored down as he picked up steam. Soon both hands were on my shoulders as he put his weight behind the thrusts. I tried to tell him to slow down, but something about how assertive and confident he was kept the words from my lips. And then it hardly mattered, as he found my prostate and my mind dissolved. He was destroying my ass as all I could do was try not to drool all over myself. All thought was consumed by pleasure as his balls slapped heavy against my ass.
“Fuck, you’re such a good boy. Your ass is so tight. Fuck it feels amazing.”
“Huuuhnuh…ahhh…uhhhhhh…fuck…meeeeee”
I could feel it coming. I tried to ride the waves of ecstasy but he was not letting up. Suddenly he inhaled sharply.
“God, I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum.” he cried. He made no signs of slowing down.
“Cum…cum in-me.” I was about to burst.
He let out a deep growl as with a final thrust he plunged into me and the floodgates opened. At the same time I saw stream after stream hit his chest. We came at the same time. Panting he ran his finger down his chest and popped a thick glob in his mouth
“Yeah, you even taste delicious.”
This time I pulled him to me, kissing his beautiful face as he slowly pulled himself out of me with a wet pop.
And that should have been it. It should have stayed that way. It was supposed to be amazing. But, somehow, life always gets complicated.
It started with work. Maybe it was a side effect. With how he carried himself, he couldn’t help but turn heads when he entered a room. He would talk about how well respected he was, how all of a sudden people gave a shit when he said something. I guess it came with the territory. But that respect turned into a promotion, and that promotion had him working later and later hours. Plus, with his new body, he had to maintain it. He spent at least two hours at the gym, lifting and running and stretching. He would come home smelling musky, and I would basically be waiting in the bedroom to suck on his sweaty cock. Those nights were some of the best. But then he made friends, gym bros to hang out with, and he would get home well into the night, too tired to do much but watch TV before passing out. Then, my work project turned south at the end of the year. Our client was furious and I had to fly out almost every other weekend to some meeting to plead for time or try to get the project back on track. It felt like we just kept missing each other.
“I know it’s been hard to manage time but can we please have this weekend,” he begged one Thursday night, “I miss you. I miss us.”
I sighed, “I can’t. We just have to make it to the spring when we launch and it should be good. But until then I have to keep up with these clients.”
“I know, I know but can’t they send someone else?” He came in close and began to stroke my hair, “I need my good little boy here.”
I flushed and turned away, “You know I’ve been working for years to close this project out. I can’t just leave it when we are this close to the finish line.”
He looked hurt, “So instead you’re just leaving me behind?”
I snapped my head back to his, “You’re one to talk. I feel like I haven’t seen you in months. One promotion and suddenly you want to lecture me on my career? Plus all the time you spend with your gym buds. Enjoying the sauna together?” The moment I said it I knew I crossed the line
“…I’m going to bed.” He slammed the bedroom door behind him.
“BABE! No, that’s not what I meant. Please-” I jiggled the locked handle. No response. Dejected, I turned towards the couch, collecting what throw pillows and little blankets I could.
I tossed and turned all night, yet when I woke up he had already slipped out without a word. I wandered back to the bedroom and tried to find solace in the shower. Warm water ran down my back as mulled over the prior evening. When did things get so tough? It felt like just yesterday we were just some freshly graduated kids, now we hardly saw our friends or each other, just crunched all day at the office. Things back then were so… simple. That’s it! I shut off the water and quickly dried off. In the bedroom sat the machine. We had kept using it just for the white noise. Worked like a charm, who knew? It may have been what caused all this, but maybe it held a solution. There was the knob I was looking for: simple. I took it and cranked it up. I needed change and I really needed it quick. Two nights would perfect. If it was anything like last time, by the time I am back Sunday night this could all be solved. I threw a bag together for my trip and went off to the airport. Today I would give him space, and by tomorrow I had a hunch the problem would practically solve itself…
I woke up the next day, groggy from the flight and meetings yesterday. I was not looking forward to another full day today. Just then, my phone buzzed next to me. A text came through from my boyfriend:
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got a long day ahead babe. miss u 😘
He looked so… care free. There wasn’t a bag under his eyes. And he never just texted to say he missed me. He never seemed to have time. Seeing him with his arm frown back and that stupid little smirk got me going more than I expected it to. I texted back:
I miss you too. I hope you aren’t too bogged down with meetings today. Love ❤️
He responded: no meeting’s, boss had a safety talk last week. just work
Safety talk? Whatever, I’m sure he would be fine. Probably one of those cyber security talks from the 2000’s. Either way, I couldn’t dwell on it too long. Had to get ready for this team meeting.
The weekend was a blur. Meeting, crunch, eat repeat for two days straight. I hardly had time for myself, much less checking in on my boyfriend’s progress. But he seemed to be coming along nicely, and I could surmise a bit. His stressful job in engineering had been replaced with construction site manager, then just a regular blue-collar worker. His texts had become more casual, and when I talked with him for a few minutes Sunday morning he was kicking back with some friends having a beer. He even took a nap Sunday afternoon, speeding him along maybe a little further than I would have liked. He sent me this text when he woke up as I was on my way to the airport:
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Mmm, I miss u, gonna need ass when ur back
The next text was just a picture of his rigid cock. I chuckled a bit. I definitely had gone a bit too far but we could adjust that later.
I miss you too babe. You should probably get up. I’ll be home in a few hours and you can have me then 😉
Little did I know.
I hopped out of my cab and began working through airport security. I made it to my gate with plenty of time to spare. While I had made it to the gate, the plane, evidently had not. Winds and snow out of the northwest had delayed it. It was supposed to be an hour delay. But as one became two, the storm system had moved south.
Passengers of flight AM267, we regret to inform you that your flight has been delayed. With the current storm system, we are not projecting to be able to leave till tomorrow at 8:47am. On behalf-
I tuned out as my mind began to race. Tomorrow? That would throw off my whole work week! And the product launch would have to be delayed even further if I’m not there…
I began crunching the numbers on how far back this would set us as I hopped on a shuttle to the nearest hotel. With the sudden influx, it took a few hours before I was checked into my economy room next to the elevator. I had made the necessary calls to my team letting them know about the situation and… oh shit. I didn’t even call my boyfriend! He’s probably still waiting up for me. Quickly I fired off a text letting him know what was up. The day had been exhausting, I wouldn’t be up for much tonight anyways. I didn’t even change out of my jeans as I passed out on my bed.
The next morning the storm had passed, so it was back to the airport to catch my flight. We were luckier than most, I figured it would take them at last 2 days to be fully back on schedule. Still, everything had been thrown out of sync with the delay. It was almost 2:30 by the time I was sliding my key into the front door. I walked upstairs to throw my luggage in the bedroom when I stopped outside the door. Inside, I could hear a faint crackle, like the fray of a radio. Just the sound gave me a headache, and I felt an itch in my teeth. And then it clicked, and my stomach dropped. I threw open the door and immediately turned off the machine that had been running all day. A faint breathing was behind me. I turned and my eyes went wide.
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There he was, still laid back on the bed, hat on his head, wide awake. The thousand yard stare said it all. He had been listening all night and all day.
I tried to shake him awake to no avail. He was lost in whatever fog had dulled his brain.
“Need… ass… need fuck…” he mumbled. Drool started to drip out his mouth.
I turned back the machine and pried off the back panel. I began urgently analyzing switches and knobs, trying to determine which would reverse the changes. Even just a way to turn the damn thing off. It just kept buzzing and buzzing and buzzing… I felt a tight grip around my waist.
“Come babe, you want cock?”
My boyfriend had come out of his stupor, but not much. His cross-eyed stare had set itself on my body. His paws were rested firmly on my hips as he drug me closer to him.
“Let me go, I need to figure this out”
“No,” he slurred, “I need you.” He leaned in for a sloppy kiss. He tasted salty and sour. His beard was far more unkept and rough. He smelled virile this close, musky and horny. “You like simple,” he said. No, not said. Commanded. All that daddy energy he brought before was somehow put behind those words, and for a moment I felt submissive to him. And he only needed that moment. “Come.” He lifted his arm and stared into my eyes. A wave of stench rolled down and hit my senses with a crash.
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His gaze, the smell, and the buzzing in my ears. It was all too much as I was drawn towards his pit. I resisted for a moment, giving a hesitant whiff under his gaze. He made no movement. He didn’t have to. I was soon buried in his pit as I huffed his stupefying scent. In the back of my mind I knew this wasn’t right, that I was supposed to be fighting back. But a different whisper entered my mind:
Didn’t I want this? Wasn’t this my choice? Who was it that wanted it to all be so simple?
He pulled me out for a moment to slip my shirt off before I dove back in. At this point I was practically drooling, and I began cleaning him with my tongue. He stroked my chest and back, squeezing my pecs. They felt soft beneath his firm grasp. He soon switched me to the other side and muttered to me:
“Good boy. So horny.”
I was. I was so horny. The more I licked the more my crotch throbbed. My cock was rigid at attention as he pulled me out of his pits.
He’s so hot. Need him. Need cock.
No, no my brain tried to scream, but it sounded distant. A thick fog was between me and my thoughts. Maybe it should stay that way…
My boyfriend stood up and I fell to the floor. Slowly, he began pulling off his jeans.
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I instinctively turned over to receive his cock. My ass was already slick, wet in expectation. Even having sex was so simple. As he pressed his cock against my hole it slid in like a key in a lock. It just felt right. And as he gripped my shoulders and began to fuck me, each thrust felt like a thought was popped in my head. He growled a deep, primal growl as the last thoughts I ever had washed away in the waves of pleasure radiating through my body. My brain felt like the static from the machine. The only thing I had left was instinct. And instinct was telling me to ride the man behind me.
“Fu-uck- m-me- up- da-ah-ddy”
He only grunted as he increased the pace. It felt like hours as the ebbs and flows of our libidos managed to keep us both on edge, so close but never finishing. Till finally, I couldn’t take it any more. I could only manage a moan as I came all over the bedsheets.
“Fuck that’s so hot.” he said, and with one final thrust filled my guts with his dumb cum. Hehe. Cum. As he slid out I couldn’t handle any more. I passed out face down ass up on the bed.
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The next morning I was horny again. And then by lunch. And then by bed time. Days blended together as we fucked, ate, worked out, and slept together. The machine next to our bed never got turned off. Wasn’t there something I was supposed to do with it? Eh, it was too complex. Best to leave it alone as I had my brain fucked out for the third time today. I don’t know how we got by. We never moved out of our house. We always got food with no problems. Anyone who came by would just do whatever we asked. The few times anyone came inside they quickly learned that it was a lot easier to simply give in. If they resisted, babe would simply take them back to the bedroom until they changed their minds. They would come out all smiles, agreeable to whatever we needed. It was as simple as that.
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sluttywonwoo · 4 months
Note
I have such a gross fantasy of Joshua Hong fucking me gently in front of a fire in a cabin while it snows. That man is so romantic and sweet I have a toothache
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"warm now, baby?"
you smile and hum in affirmation as you hug your knees to your chest, watching joshua stoke the fire.
he joins you on top of the blanket he'd laid on the floor a moment later when the flames are roaring and the firewood is crackling in the hearth.
then he wraps his arm around you and kisses you on the forehead. "what about now?"
"even better," you answer. "but i think i could stand to be even warmer."
joshua raises his eyebrows. "oh yeah?"
"mhm."
you shrug off his arm and lay down on the blanket, pulling him with you so that he's hovering over you. he gets the hint instantly, probably because it wasn't so much of a hint as it was an obvious invitation, and kisses you on the lips. he's tugging at your thermal top in almost no time, pausing only when he remembers just how cold you had been up until this point.
"are you sure you want to do this now? we can wait."
"yes, i'm sure. i want you now, shua," you whine, wrapping your legs around his waist and locking your ankles behind his back to pull him closer.
he half laughs, half moans as you grind up into him, feeling him start to harden through his sweatpants.
"okay, why don't we keep your shirt on then? we can take everything else off."
it's not really a compromise you want to make but you settle for it anyway, too desperate to try and protest further.
joshua pulls your shirt back down over your tummy and moves on to your pants, getting them and your underwear off in one fluid motion. he whistles under his breath at the sight between your thighs.
"no wonder you were so impatient. you're already soaked for me."
you've been dating for so long that you shouldn't get flustered when your boyfriend says things like that but you feel your cheeks warm in embarrassment all the same. he smirks at your reaction which makes you even wetter, something you hope he doesn't notice.
"poor thing. i won't make you wait too long, baby. just a second..." joshua yanks his t-shirt off over his head and lays it underneath yours like a pillow before shimmying out of his sweats and slotting himself between your legs. "ready?"
"yeah, give it to me."
"so romantic," he mutters, pushing himself inside of you anyway.
it isn't often that joshua fucks you without any foreplay but the main goal today is to warm you up and anything that isn't straight-up fucking you would leave part of your body exposed to the cold. like this, he can lay his body on top of yours like a weighted blanket and keep you warm as he gently fucks into you. it's exactly what he does, draping himself over you as he starts to move.
already, you feel warmer. whether it's due to the fire, his body heat, or his dick inside of you, you can't be sure but if you were a betting woman, you'd put your money on it being a combination of the three.
he's going slow to let you adjust to the stretch but it still feels like he's splitting you in half with every thrust. it feels heavenly, though. almost too good. you swear you're seeing god every time he bottoms out and the way he's praising you like you are one is making it impossible to stay grounded.
"i love you," joshua whispers, pressing his lips to your neck. "i love you so much, you're taking it so well for me."
it's all too much. too much and not nearly enough and you want to stay like this with him forever but you also want to fucking cum over and over and...
and he looks so pretty in the firelight. the ever-changing glow flickering against his skin makes him appear radiant, like all the colors of the sunset are being projected on him in waves.
"feels so good, shua," you gasp, back arching off the floor.
he strokes your cheek. "i can tell. you're crying already, my love."
you sniffle, giggling deliriously as you try to blink the tears out of your eyes. his figure is blurred behind them and you want to see him clearly. "i d-didn't even notice. 'm sorry."
"don't apologize, baby. you know i love making you cry- well, in this context, of course. means i'm doing something right."
"you're doing everything right," you confirm.
joshua sucks in a breath to steel himself before continuing. "for what it's worth, you f-feel so good too, baby. you're so fucking warm and tight... i don't know how long i'm going to last."
he sounds apologetic about it but you shake your head and grip his shoulders like you're going to give him a pep talk. "we have all night," you assure him. "we can go as many times as we want, as long as you're here keeping me warm."
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oh-koenig-my-koenig · 4 months
Text
concert, part 2
part 1 | part 2 | (cw: age gap 25/41, nsfw smut)
The concert is a fucking blast. König and I are headbanging in unison to the songs blaring from the speakers and I love seeing the wild expression on his face. It’s exactly how I imagined it. Lorna Shore is also an amazing live experience, my god. I think I’m gonna have a bunch more lines on my face because every breakdown is bringing out my stank face.
Most of the concert goes well, without any incidents. Most of it.
If it wasn’t for the guy who almost knocked me off my feet running past us to the moshpit. König catches me when I topple over, his hands grabbing my waist and pulling me up again. The look on his face as he stares down the guy that just shoots a little “sorry” in my direction is downright abysmal that for a moment even I get a bit scared.
And I grab his arm putting my whole body weight on it when I see that he wants to go after the guy. “König, please, I’m fine.”, I shout at him, pulling on his arm to get his attention on me.
He stops, turns around and leans down, coming face to face with me. His eyes search it for any indication that would go against my claim, his hand cupping my cheek, the thumb softly caressing just once. And I just want him to do it again.
“I swear, I’m fine, it happens. I’m not made of glass.”, I explain to him and do a little dancydancy to demonstrate that my limbs are still working.
That pulls a little chuckle from him and he finally relaxes. Nodding, pulling back, and then he straightens back up, re-taking his position right behind me like my own personal bodyguard. And I lean into him again, shamelessly so, somebody might even call it ‘snuggling into him’.
I’m feeling touchy and I maybe would have had a guilty conscience if he didn’t do the same. His hand skimming over my naked arm, him pulling me against him when somebody pushes past us again. His big burly arms framing me. And it feels good. Oh, so good.
Luckily the heavy music blasting from the speakers is distracting me from the attractive man at my side, so I can keep some of my sanity while I try and tell myself that this totally is just two strangers going to a concert and not at all a date. Mh-mh, not a date.
I push those thoughts away and will myself to stay in the moment and let the music carry me away. I’m already getting tired and sweaty from all the jumping, shouting and moshing I’ve been doing, but also the concert is slowly but surely coming to an end.
I jump up a bit, going on my tiptoes, but I can’t see the band members on stage through the sea of bodies in front of me. König leans down, one of his hands on my shoulder.
“Everything okay?”, he asks me, loud against the noise, his breath skitting over the shell of my ear, and I ignore the tickling feeling that this elicits.
I turn to him speaking into his ear as well. “I don’t see anything.”, I complain to him. “But this is my favourite song.”
“You wanna sit on my shoulders? I bet you’d have a better view from up there.”, he suggests, patting said shoulders. They do look like a very comfy seat. Or a comfy leg rest. *cough cough* Get yourself together and the mind out of the gutter, I tell myself.
“Uh, sure.”, I say, totally not sure how this will work. He pulls his hair to the side and just leans down a bit, hoists me up at my waist and places me on his right shoulder. He holds up his hands and I grab them as I reposition myself, slinging my leg over the other shoulder, so that my thighs are now resting on both of them.
I didn’t factor in that I’m only wearing a skirt. The fabric is bunched up, which means that there are only the two thin layers of my panties and my tights between his neck and my pussy. Great. Just peachy.
His hands grab my thighs, his fingers digging into me, holding me steady and save. I’m so high up, so I can see everything, but right now my attention and more importantly the attention of my body is on the man whose head is between my thighs – so to speak.
“All good?”, he shouts up at me and I shout back a “yes”. Holding onto his head, making sure not to pull on his hair. But I can’t ignore the way it feels silkily smooth underneath my fingertips. I resist the urge to run my fingers through it and focus on the concert going on in front of me, joining in the refrain of ‘Dancing like Flames’.
And so the 'Pain Remains' Trilogy plays out with me on his shoulders experiencing the end of the concert with maybe the best seat in the house.
“Did you have fun?”, he asks as we leave the venue.
I’m doing double time on my steps to keep up with his long strides and the adrenaline from the concert still coursing through my veins turns my almost running into skipping along. “Yes, I did.”, I say smiling up at him.
A cold gust of wind blows through the street and a shiver runs down my spine which makes me slow down and cross my arms in front of my body.
“Wait, here, have my jacket.”, he says, slowing down as well, already putting the worn leather onto my shoulders.
I pull the piece of clothing tighter around me, getting enveloped in his scent while the smooth fabric of the inner lining skims against my skin. “Thanks.” We’re making our way to the car and he opens the door for me again, just like he did before.
“So, do you feel like you kept up with me today?”, I ask him then, a sly smile forming on my lips. He shoots me a look, an intense one, before he closes the car door. The look alone should have totally shut me up. But it doesn’t.
“So, how does it feel to still be out past your bedtime, old man?”, I continue as he climbs into the driver’s seat.
He doesn’t even look at me while he puts the seatbelt on and pushes the key into the ignition. “I’m glad you were more well behaved when we were at the concert.”, he says, a light gravel in his voice. A sound that does stuff to me. A sound that makes me brave and stupid.
"Do you know what a brat is?", I ask him and amusement paints my voice. I’m enjoying this way too much right now. Teasing him in person is so much better than over text.
He fully sideeyes me, pulling up one of his brows, then he turns his head to look at me. His gaze is heated, but I can see the restraint in it as well. He slowly tilts his head to the side and at the same pace the grin on my face falters, melting away. The hairs in my neck are starting to stand up and I have to suppress a shiver of excitement. From him just looking at me like I'm prey, someone to chase down, someone to devour.
"I'm familiar with the concept.", he says nonchalantly, leaning a bit towards me, when one of the corners of his mouth tips up. "Do you know what a brat tamer is?", he asks, smirking at me. And my brain short-circuits. My jaw drops, my chin is on the floor, figuratively speaking.
He laughs, short and darkly, as I'm still recovering from the sentence he just dropped. He straightens back up and fiddles with the ignition until the car starts.
"Sit up straight and put your seatbelt on for me, Liebes.", he says, his voice getting all authoritative. The tone makes my spine stiffen up and I do as he told me. He laughs again, seeing how I'm following his orders, when he shifts the car into gear. Without even looking at me, he drawls: "Good girl.", and I fold like a goddamn lawn chair. The little sigh dropping from my lips telling him (and me) exactly how this is making me feel.
He doesn't say anything, so I glance at him while he pulls onto the street. The smirk on his face is cocky and self-indulgent, his hair is still swept to one side and my god, the jawline with the scruff 5 o'clock shadow is doing stuff to me. The mental image forming in my head is so not safe for work.
Me splayed out on the bed, my front to the mattress. Him kneeling over me, his knees framing my ass as he's buried balls deep in my pussy. His strong hands have a tight grip on me, pushing me down into the soft sheets while he fucks me deep and slow, his hair whipping back and forth when his hips snap forward, his groin pressing up against the soft pillows of my ass repeatedly. Praise is falling from his lips, telling me that I'm his good girl, that I'm doing so well for him, that I feel so fucking good while his hand spanks my booty, alternating between my left and right cheek, reddening the skin with every slap.
His chuckle, the real König chuckling at me while driving, is pulling me from my dirty daydream and I can't help the blush forming on my cheeks. "Now where did you just drift off to?", he asks me.
"Nowhere.", I say, trying to deflect.
"Uh-huh.", he pulls up his brows, totally not believing me.
“Well, what did you expect when you told me-“ I lower my voice and mumble: “that you’re a brat tamer…” That pulls a laugh from him, a sound I’m already addicted to.
“You mean like when you told me that you’re a little brat?”, he throws back at me. “Two can play that game, Fräulein.”
I tilt my head to the side, but I can’t argue with that. “Touché.” I feel like we just dipped our toes into some unchartered territory that made everything a little bit more sexual than it already was, a little clearer where this is headed – probably sooner than later. Because even if we keep making jokes and bringing up our age difference (which I still think isn’t that bad), I can feel the pull of attraction towards him. And with the way he keeps looking at me, I’m sure he feels the same way.
We were flirty in our texts and we were touchy all evening. I remember the way my thighs hugged his neck when I sat on his shoulders. How his fingers dug into the pillowy flesh, holding me tight.
The way his arms closed around me, shielding me off from the people around us. Me shamelessly leaning into him, relishing the way his body feels against mine. How I felt safe at the concert with him as my personal bodyguard.
And every single thing heightened the feeling of need, of want, of desire that was already there when I saw him sitting at that table at the pub.
I try to hold off from squirming in my seat, having a hard time keeping my cool, especially when my eyes wander to him all the time while driving. How his knees almost graze the steering wheel, the way his knuckles strain when he grips it. His hair falling over the side of his face. The tattoos, the shirt he got hugging his biceps just the right way, just… every single detail.
I spend the ride home trying to keep my thoughts holy, but I can’t. His image and my imagination don’t seem to mix well.
He pulls up to my apartment complex, parking the car and turning the engine off, but he keeps the sound system running. He turns to me and the sentence I wanted to say gets stuck in my throat. I wanted to thank him for taking me to the concert, making me feel safe. Very obviously going out of his own comfort zone to accommodate me. Even when we still didn’t know each other for that long.
But the way he’s looking at me shuts me up before I can start talking. His gaze is intense, just like before and the effect is all the same. And I can’t tear my eyes from him, drinking him in.
“Don’t look at me like that.”, he says, not breaking eyecontact.
I bat my eyelashes at him, feigning nonchalance. “Like what?”
A little growl drops from his lips and the sound sends a wave of need between my legs. Like I even needed more of that. He leans a bit forward, inching closer and closer. “Like you want me to do something about this tension between us.”, he whispers, low and darkly.
“Maybe I do want that.”, I answer and he doesn’t need more encouragement than that.
His hands grab my face, his fingers tangle in my hair, and he presses his lips onto mine. His hold on me is soft, but the kiss is fiery. And for the first time I can really feel that he wants me as desperately as I want him.
I grab him, his t-shirt, pulling him against me. I can feel his broad chest under my fingertips, the warmth of his body, the hard muscles that I also was snuggled up against before. His leatherjacket falls from my shoulders and pools around my hips.
“Fuck.”, he grunts against my lips, letting one hand drop down to push the car seat back. He pulls me with him, onto his lap, my thighs spreading over it. His hand brushes down my back as his mouth finds mine once more to kiss me, feverish, demanding, needy. And I answer it with the same fervor, brushing my tongue against his, moaning as I taste him for the first time. The flavour of beer that we both drank cutting through his own scent.
He grabs my ass cheek, squeezing it through the fabric of my skirt and the touch is making me squirm in his lap, grinding onto him. I feel his hard length against me, straining against his jeans, my tights and panties not really being a barrier as I roll my hips, relishing the feeling of the fabric on my wetness. The feeling of his dick right underneath me.
“Do you wanna come upstairs?”, I breathe against his lips. I almost add that I don’t want to give my neighbors a show, but that seems to be a little on the nose.
He pulls my head back a bit, his eyes searching mine and I can see the unbridled lust in them. Other than that, it seems like he’s exercising restraint, stopping the movement of my hips on his lap. “If we do that, we’re gonna fuck.”, he states matter-of-factly.
His words colour my cheeks red. “I guess so.” is all I manage to say because the imagination alone is already making me hotter than I was before.
His gaze flits between my right and left eye, back and forth, like the answers are already pouring out of them. “Are you sure you want this?”, he asks softly.
I break eyecontact and nod because this whole interaction is making me shy all of a sudden. The brattiness is gone.
His hand that was still tangled in my hair strokes down the side of my face until his fingers grab my chin and turn it up, to make me look at him again. “Use your words, Liebes. Do you want me to fuck you?”, he rewords his question.
My breath halts in my throat and for a moment my mind goes completely blank. I just stare at him, swallowing down the nervousness I feel. “Yes.”, I answer him, my voice steadier than I would have expected.
He pulls up one of his eyebrows, looking at me like he’s expecting something more, the serious expression on his face turning heated and cocky.
“Please.”, I whisper which earns me a satisfied growl as he captures my lips again. The kiss is sloppier than the ones before, he bites my lower lip which sends a zap of pleasure right to my core and makes me moan against his lips some more.
He pulls back a little bit, his hot mouth pressing small pecks to my cheek and down to my neck, all while scooping me up and opening up the car door. He presses me flush against him as he gets out the car with me in his grasp, making sure I don’t bump my head on the car frame.
My arms wrap around his neck, my fingers digging into his shoulder, holding onto him, my thighs resting against his hips, while he locks the car and just uses one arm to steady me, like I weigh nothing. Well, to him I probably don’t.
Determination in his step, he approaches the building and I dig into my little bag with one hand to get the keys to my flat.
part 4
~ or More Stuff in the Masterlist ~
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avocado-writing · 27 days
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May I ask for a companions x Tav headcanons list were Tav loves to cook and see's it as a way to people's hearts?
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Astarion
Obviously is sad he cannot partake more, as he sees how much effort and love you put into your cooking.
You make an effort to make richly-flavoured blood dishes he might enjoy, just for him! But everyone thinks it’s just a tad bit morbid (and he agrees) so won’t ask you to go out of your way for him.
“Besides darling, I prefer to sample straight from the source…”
One night you’ve just pressed some parsley leaves to your neck for flavouring for him. He laughs so hard he cries. This is the first time he realises he loves you.
Gale
Oh, the camp’s resident cook is delighted to have a sous-chef!
And then he realises oops, no, he is the sous-chef. At which point he’s just happy to sit and watch you work your magic.
Happy to make dinner in order to pull his weight in the group, but he’s entranced watching you do it, too. You’re a wizard with some knives and a saucepan.
He can feel the love you put into every bite. Always makes sure to go out of his way to compliment you, and loves the way you smile in return ❤️
Wyll
After spending so much time on the road, he’s so happy to be in the presence of a good cook.
With every bite will discuss the flavour palate of your dish, talking about what herbs he can taste, letting you know he appreciates your effort.
He’s not a brilliant chef himself but would love for you to teach him!
In return he saves up to buy you fancy chocolates from the best chocolatier in Baldur’s Gate. It’s the least you deserve, and the way you light up makes his heart beat fast.
Karlach
Whatever you make, she loves.
“Pasta? My favourite! Oh my god, we’re having steak? I love it! Rice tonight? Right on!!”
She doesn’t have a favourite food. Dishes in Avernus were not wide in range, so she’s just happy to eat some different meals for once.
You give her seconds and thirds and she eats them up, going on and on about what a good cook you are.
“You’re so amazing at this! I love you!”
Good thing she’s too engrossed in her food to notice how flustered you are…
Lae’zel
Reluctant to eat anything at first.
“I do not want your istik food. I shall provide for myself.”
But after a few days of smelling how good the food is that you cook, she gives in… still trying to pretend it’s beneath her.
You serve her a small portion to start with, then watch her eyes widen as she realises how delicious it tastes.
She is too proud to ask for more - and you’d not have her any other way - but you make sure to serve her big portions from then on. Her bowl is always scraped clean.
Shadowheart
Isn’t too sure on your cooking at first - she’s used to bland, tasteless meals at the temple - but quickly comes around.
The longer you’re together and the closer you become, the more she opens up about her favourite flavours. Eventually she starts making requests.
“There’s this sort of cake I vaguely remember… if I can get you the honey, could you make it for me?”
Of course you can. You sit down and share it, watching her eyes roll back in delight, the way she licks the crumbs off of her fingers. The two of you are enamoured with each other, but you still fight over the last slice.
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thatdeadaquarius · 22 days
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Imagine a horribly clumsy creator in the sagau... like trips over their own feet, starts coughing due to choking on air randomly, knocking a vase off a table that was in the middle of the table somehow???? Silly goofy stuff like that (I pull these silly goofs often personally)
(obv goes w/o saying sorry for being so late to reply /gen) ;-;
clumsy reader is so me core idk why i didnt think of this lmao
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(this gif is liek the modern equivalent of Charlotte posting ur embarrassing clumsy moments on insta Steambird acc lmao)
(so sometimes im lazy and dont include the ask stuff esp if its shorter like this, so here's at least the characters in this one: Fontaine ppl <3 along with a G for general audience, barring cuss words)
Navia would politely ask you to go the edge or whatever area ur in whenever she pulls out her cannons/guns LMAO
every time you and either Clorinde or Neuvillette are walking next to you, or doing rlly anything, its like night and day
ur out here finding all the cracks in the sidewalk, bumping everything that could even possibly have a liquid in it, and have constant bruises from hip checking/stubbing toes on mechas walking around
Clorinde is impressed at that point bc mechas are actively programmed to get out of your way, so how u managed to put them back into ur way rlly fascinates her 😭😭
Neuvillette would like to wrap u in fabric/bubble wrap equivalent for his old ass, in an attempt to desperately stop u from hurting urself lol
u get a new coat or new pants from him all the time, u just thought at first he was rlly into giving u Fontaine fashion until Furina pointed out that it was spring/summer and you wouldn't wear thick woolen pants and fur-lined coats everyday 💀
(poor dragon guy doesn't rlly get the practical side of clothes, he likes fashion, but he inadvertently subscribes to the "hoes don't get cold" philosophy by being an ancient dragon lord)
Wriothesley is unfortunately nice enough to constantly try and catch his poor god, which ends well for neither of you 50% of the time
its not even ur weight takes him down, he's buff as hell after all, and he's dealt with rowdy inmates, its just.. ur clumsiness spreads.
if ur tripping, and the poor Duke reaches out to catch you, ur reaching out at the same time to steady urself on a side table w/a vase full of water, which u then knock off, drenching ur back and his face at the same time LMAO
he doesn't learn, despite u literally begging him to stop trying to help u, then u try and compromise to just let u fall and help u afterward asdfghkl-
Wrio's too chivalrous tho, the most u can get him to do is always grab ur arm instead of trying to bodily catch you
if u think after the first like, ✌️ TWO times Lynette is willing to help you, u r so wrong lmao
she's seen her brothers clumsiness, she knows theres no saving u
she does comfort u after slipping (not even falling but just flailing dramatically) for the 5th time in the puddles around water fountains tho
Lyney and Freminet are lowkey legit convinced someones cursed their god atp 😰
Freminet always had bandaids for u, and Lyney keeps a supply of ur fav candy to cheer u up after embarrassing urself by falling ass backwards right into the Fountain of Lucine right in front of Opera house lmao
...
...Charlotte thinks this is all vv hilarious, no she has no respect for ur godliness, her archon was Furina like LMAO- IM SORRYYY
(she has started a small section in the steambird of a near daily- DAILY picture of u being clumsy 😭)
(u, not srsly, threaten to smite her and she just giggles)
(its ok they take it all in a cute/endearing trait type of way)
again, sorry for lateness, when i reopen askbox (soon, FINALLY-)
ill try and stay more on top of it and try and sort whatre just chats/non-requests better too 😭😭
hope u guys are having a good week!! tysm for being patient and nice to me :')
Safe Travels Kai,
💀♒
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<3
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