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#cant get enough of these circle dance paintings!
hopelesslygaysstuff · 9 months
Note
Hi 🥰 idk if u remember me but im rainb0wdrafts from ao3! Saw on your bio that ure taking request soooo uhmm can I request a fluffy / smutty wanda x fem reader fic based on a song Wanna Be Missed by Hayley Kiyoko? 🥺 or if ure not feeling that particular song, any song that would inspire u from her Expectations album.
P. S.
still cant wait for the ending of Sparkling Scarlett. I’m having mixed emotions about it rn JSKSKSLLSLS
pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader
summary: you try to get your mind off of Wanda in a crowded nightclub, and she finds you there and eases your cravings for her.
content warnings: smut, fingering, cunnilingus
word count: 4.3k
masterlist
A/N: omg hiiii!! i totally hadn't listened to that song before, so i listened to it on repeat while i figured out the vibes and plot line lol. i was basically feeling nightclub vibes with wanda and fem!reader going feral for each other. i hope you like it ◡̈
you literally cured my writers block so thank u 🙏, i really don't want Sparkling Scarlet to end either😭
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photo cred: me, i literally made the photo in photoshop lol. anyways.
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Craving You
The nightclub reverberated with an electric energy that filled every inch of the air. A symphony of pulsing lights painted the space in vibrant hues, dancing in synchrony with a mesmerizing blend of bass-heavy rhythms. It resonated in the bones of those who stood on the crowded dance floor. 
You danced along, your body swaying to the pounding tempo as your feet started to tingle, the vibrations palpable in the stifling air. The atmosphere was a sensory overload, a place where time blurred, and your inhibitions dissolved as your friends brought you yet another shot. 
Shooting down the clear liquid, you grimaced at the taste, attempting not to cough it back up as your friend patted you on the back. Looking up, you saw Kate’s already flushed face as she lazily scanned the room. 
“Just go and find her already,” You said, feeling your senses starting to dull as the vodka left a pleasant burn in your chest. “I promised you I’d be here as a wingwoman tonight!” 
Kate looked over at you, her face giddy with the anticipation of finally talking to her long-time crush, Yelena. You laughed, grabbing the slightly crumpled water bottle from her grasp and uncapping it. Forcing the bottle against her lips, you watch her gulp down the water. 
Hastily pulling the bottle away, you take a few sips before screwing the cap back on. “Don’t gulp it all down Kate, you’ll get sick that way.” You chastised, only half joking. You really didn’t want to spend another night holding Kate’s hair as she spewed her guts into a nightclub toilet. 
Gently shoving her away, you gave Kate a light pep talk. It mostly consisted of complimenting her outfit, as she’d stressed about it all day. You had helped her pick the dress, a stunning knee length fabric that shimmered with each passing ray of multi-colored light. Kate spun in a small circle as you showered her with compliments, before finally turning away and laughing, her eyes scanning the room for Yelena. 
“But wait!” Kate exclaimed, swaying slightly as she gripped your upper arm tightly. She struggled to focus on your face, finally making eye contact. “You haven't had enough alcohol to get your mind properly off of her yet.”
You sighed, letting out a breath into the already warm air. The atmosphere dimmed slightly, the stale air swirling around you as you remembered the true reason you’d let Kate drag you along. In all honesty, you’d never been much of a party girl. You always preferred a night in, sipping tea as you watched a sitcom with your girlfriend. 
And there it was, the one thing you’d been trying not to think about.
Shooting Kate a look, you shook your head. “I don’t think alcohol is going to help much.” She gave you an apologetic look, and you gave her a slightly firmer push towards the dance floor. She turned slowly, and upon seeing a flash of dirty blonde hair, quickly left your side in pursuit. 
Turning back towards the bar, you squinted against the flashing lights, already feeling a headache coming on as the vibrant mix of reds and blues swirled against the walls. Pushing through a tangle of sweaty, dancing bodies, you snagged a seat towards the end of the bar. You ordered a shirley temple (you really did miss Wanda), and sat back against the wall. Choosing to give your eyes a rest from the mass of bodies dancing in an uncoordinated pattern, you let your eyes unfocus as you stared into the dark red of your drink. 
Wanda had unfortunately been called away, her position as head of her company demanding more hours as the summer season hit. She’d left immediately after a late night phone call, grabbing her pre-packed bag and sweeping out of your shared home. She’d promised that it wouldn’t be too long of a trip, and that she’d call you every day. That was three weeks ago. 
She did call you every day, but spoken words weren’t enough for you. You wanted to be held by her, falling asleep in her arms as she laughed along quietly to the sitcoms playing in the background. You wanted to kiss her again, like it was the last time you’d ever embrace her lips with yours, frenzied and passionate. The sound of her voice through a phone, knowing she was miles away, couldn’t compare to the way she would hold you close with your breaths intermingling as you pulled each other impossibly closer. 
Fuck, you missed her with every fibre of your being. 
Shaking off your suddenly melancholic thoughts, you scanned the room for Kate. The mess of brown curls was lost in the sea of moving bodies, and you focused on the first flash of blonde you saw. Upon seeing Yelena, you smiled at the sight of Kate standing mere inches away from her. Your mission was accomplished, and all you had to do was not think about Wanda. 
How utterly disappointing it was, when your thoughts wandered back to her. Back to her soft red curls, slightly frizzy as they splayed across her bare back. You always swore you woke up next to an angel everyday, and Wanda would laugh as she showered you with kisses. Her laugh, flowing from her lips with a melodic grace as her lips danced softly across your skin. Back to her freckles, a constellation neatly scattered across her features that you had attempted to count many times. Back to her waist and hips, the slow curve that you dragged your fingertips over, until you finally reached her…
A hand against your waist startled you out of your thoughts, and you flushed slightly as you turned in your seat. Setting your drink down on the counter top, not wanting to enter into the range past tipsy, you looked up. 
A sea of red curls filled your vision, and your eyes slowly widened as you drank in the sight of Wanda standing before you. She had a hand in her pocket, the other stroking your hip in slow circles as your brain attempted to process. Her vibrant green eyes crinkled at the edges as she watched the multiple emotions you were feeling flit across your face. Her skin was lit with the ever-changing hues of the nightclub, and you started to feel as though you were in a cinematic movie scene. 
“Not a movie sweetheart.” Wanda said, her velvety voice wrapping around your head and sinking you further into a trance. You could hear the undercurrent teasing, but elected to ignore it in favor of staring at her. Staring at her ridiculously attractive cheekbones, at her sharp jaw and shining eyes as she drank in the sight of you.
Jolting out of your seat, finally processing the fact that she wasn’t a figure of your imagination, you wrapped your arms tightly around her shoulders as you sunk into a well-known embrace. Your bodies molded together, and you felt her arms tighten securely around your waist. You couldn’t make yourself pull away, letting the hum of the nightclub fade into insignificance as you attempted to convey the depth of your emotions through your embrace. Wanda nestled further into your arms, your breaths synchronizing as you held each other. 
Breathing deeply, you buried your nose into her hair as the familiar scent of vanilla filled your senses. For some reason, that gave you enough strength to pull away, but only far enough so you could see Wanda’s face. 
“What are you doing here?” Your voice was slightly breathy as you eagerly drank in the sight of her. She gazed down at you, her eyes fitting to your parted lips as you exhaled shakily. She smiled, leaning in closer until her lips touched the shell of your ear. You shuddered. 
“My trip ended a bit later than expected,” Wanda started, her tongue flicking out against your ear. You felt her smirk against you as a shiver ran down your spine. “And I didn’t want to wait until you got home to finally see you, so I came to you.”
A large smile made its way onto your face. Your girlfriend, who had just flown miles back home and who was probably jetlagged as hell, had made the decision to walk into a grungy nightclub in search of you. At the mere thought of how much effort she’d put into seeing you, you crashed your lips against hers. 
Her lips met yours with an equal amount of ferocity, and you felt her dragging you away from the bar as she sucked your bottom lip between her teeth. You followed happily, all of your thoughts invested solely on the woman you were clinging to. She pulled you through a doorway, the security team waving her through as they recognized her well known status. 
You could barely think, a certain fuzziness overtaking your mind as it focused solely on Wanda. You focused on your hands against her shoulders, the way your fingertips brushed against the overheated skin of her neck and tangled in the loose curls that fell around her shoulders. After a desperate tug of her hair, Wanda pulled away briefly to push open a door, before shutting it and pushing you harshly against the solid wood. 
“Hi sweetheart,” Wanda whispered, her lips grazing yours as she caught her breath. Her cheeks held an adorable flush, and her eyes shined as they roamed over your heaving chest and shaky legs. Her hands pressed your hips firmly against the door, and you squirmed slightly as you attempted to pull her closer. 
“I missed you.”
The words flowed from you desperately, and Wanda smiled at the whimper in your voice. She always loved you like this, when you were soft, pliant and so eager to please. She allowed herself to be pulled closer, until the front of her body was flush with yours. You rolled your hips against her, letting out a choked noise from the back of your throat as you relieved some of the aching pressure that had built between your legs. 
Letting her teeth graze your jaw slightly, Wanda focused on marking the soft skin of your neck as you panted beneath her. Her hands stilled your rolling hips, and you whined as she pulled back to look at your desperate form. 
“What exactly did you miss?” She asked, raising a single eyebrow as you struggled to get your brain to work. 
Catching a glimpse of the soft bed behind you, and realizing that Wanda had pushed you into one of the private backrooms of the nightclub, you pushed gently against her shoulders. Allowing you to walk her backwards, Wanda let out a surprised puff of air when the backs of her knees met the mattress. 
Moving to straddle her, you tangled your fingers with her smooth curls once more as you tilted her head back. With your lips against her temple, you breathed in the familiar heady scent that was so wholly Wanda as you murmured, “I’ll show you.”
Wanda’s hands tightened around your waist, keeping you on her lap as you ran your hands over cheeks and jaw, fingers ghosting over her skin as you started speaking. “I missed your annoyingly perfect eyebrows,” She let out a surprised giggle, raising them playfully as you laughed. Bringing a single finger down to her lips, you placed it against her bottom lip. “I missed your lips, so soft and kissable, and the words that drip from them wherever you speak.” 
Tilting your head down, you placed a gentle kiss against her lips, pulling back when she attempted to deepen it. Wanda furrowed her brows as you pulled away, but you smiled softly and placed your finger against her lips once more as she tried to speak. “Hush love, I’m not done.”
Sitting back, Wanda watched your face as your eyes followed the path your other hand traced down her neck. As your fingers ghosted over the column of her throat and danced along her collarbone, she gently sucked your finger into her mouth. Your eyes flew back to hers in surprise, but she simply smiled around your finger, her tongue swirling around the heavy pad as you watched with parted lips. 
You groaned, finding it hard to concentrate as you watched Wanda suck on your finger like it was the best thing she’d had in her mouth for a while. You placed another finger against her lips, and watched in an almost trancelike state as she sucked that one in as well. Her eyes closed slightly as she sucked, and she let out a low moan as your other hand tightened against her shoulder. 
The sound startled you out of your daze, and spurred you on. Reaching down, you removed your fingers from her mouth as you swiftly pulled her expensive blouse over her head. Throwing the article somewhere behind you, you brought your fingers back to her parted lips and sighed as you felt the wet heat of her mouth encircle them once more. 
“I missed your skin,” You said breathily, running a hand over her toned arms as they pulled you further onto her lap. You gasped as your core met her pelvis, and tried not to grind your hips down against hers. Unclasping her bra, she helped you take it off as you ran your fingers over her perspiring skin. Leaning down, you let your tongue drag against her, collecting the slightly salty taste as you traced a path from the tops of her breasts all the way to her ear.  
“I missed the way you feel against me,” You whispered, and she reached up to pull your fingers out of her mouth. In one smooth motion, she pulled your shirt off and unclasped your bra, both items landing somewhere with a soft thump as she maneuvered the two of you towards the center of the bed. 
You giggled slightly, feeling her hot breath against your overheated skin as she drank in the sight of you. She leaned closer, her lips parted as her eyes focused on the smooth skin of your neck, but you placed your hands firmly against her shoulders. Pushing back, you ignored the frustrated look she sent you, shushing her as you guided her to lay against the sheets. 
Your hips still straddled hers, and after sitting back up, you rolled them slightly as you gazed down on Wanda’s form. She lay beneath you, her chest heaving as her eyes roamed your nude chest, her hair splayed out across the dark sheets. 
“I missed your tits.” You said cheekily, reaching out your hands as your fingers pinched her nipples gently. Instead of reprimanding you like she normally would, Wanda let out a soft moan as she squirmed slightly, her hands tightening on your thighs. You felt your breath catch, the heat in your belly flaring at the sight. 
Leaning down, you captured her lips in a searing kiss, letting unrestrained moans into her mouth as she kissed you back with equal ferocity. Panting, you parted from her as you trailed your lips down her neck until you reached the soft skin of her breast. Sucking gently, you placed a few hickeys against her skin, sighing when her hand reached up to tug at your hair. 
Wanda’s hand clenched tightly, bringing tears to your eyes when you finally let your mouth encircle her tight nipple. Letting out a pained noise, you breathed deeply as she glanced down apologetically, her hand relaxing slightly. Flicking your tongue, you pulled more moans from her as you played with her chest. You could feel your bodies sliding against each other as the heat from your desperation built. 
Deciding to give the poor woman some relief, you detached your lips from her chest, admiring her puffy nipples as she groaned. Wanda’s hands became more desperate as you descended her body, tugging your head closer to her overheated skin as your lips grazed the top of her pants. She let out a desperate whine, and your eyebrows shot up at the sound. 
“I missed your hips.” You traced your fingers over the faint stretch marks you found there as you pulled her pants down in a quick motion. Your fingers mapped out a path along her skin as you traced the mole near her belly button, and the soft raised scar on her hip from when she’d fallen out of a tree when she was five. Moving further down, you spread her legs as you knelt between them, letting your lips trace a path from her ankle up to the apex of her thighs. You sighed softly as the scent of her arousal reached your nose, and you nuzzled your face into the soft skin of her inner thighs as her legs attempted to close around your head. 
You shook your head out of the clouds, blinking as Wanda hips frantically raised against your palms. You looked up, watching her heaving chest and admiring her strong jaw as she threw her head back against the mattress. One hand was clenching the dark sheets under her, and your eyes widened at the sight of her white knuckles. The other hand gripped your wrist tightly, her fingers scrabbling for purchase against your sweaty skin as her legs tightened around you. 
Placing your hands firmly against her thighs, you spread her legs as she bucked her hips. Letting her hand tangle with your hair, you chuckled as she attempted to press your face against her dripping center. You admired the wet spot forming against her underwear, blowing a stream of cool air against her core as she writhed beneath you. 
“Please.”
You let out a moan of your own at her plea, before quickly stripping her of her underwear and leaving her completely bare against the sheets. You barely had a moment to admire her pale form against the dark fabric before her hand was tugging your head closer to her once more. 
Placing a gentle kiss against her protruding clit, you smirked as her hips jerked. “I missed your scent,” You murmured, unsure if she could actually hear you over her own desperate moans. “I miss the way you taste against my tongue, and the way you roll your hips when I finally lean in for a taste.” 
Wanda’s moans turned into desperate pleas, her hips now uncontrollably rutting against the mattress as she searched for any sort of release. Taking mercy on her, you finally leaned down and swiped your tongue against her core. Moaning at the taste, you circled your lips around her clit as she babbled incoherently while thrusting her hips against your face. 
The grip of her hands in your hair caused tears to spring into your eyes once more, but you ignored it. Sucking harder, you urged her hips to buck faster against your face as her moans became more breathy. You felt her jerk unsteadily against you, her hips losing their rhythm as she neared her climax, incoherent words streaming from her lips. 
Sucking her clit in between your teeth, you bit down gently while swirling your tongue around it, and Wanda lost what little control she had left. Her legs tensed around your head, squeezing tightly as her body shook. Her clit pulsed on your tongue, and you smirked as a wave of wetness hit your chin. Her head was thrown back, her lips parted as she let out a throaty moan. Her fingers locked in your hair, her hand firmly pressing you against her spasming core as she rode out the last few waves of her orgasm. 
You licked your lips clean after finally coming up for air, her legs relaxing just enough for you to pull away slightly. As soon as you caught your breath, you dived right back in and savored the rich taste of her against your tongue. As you slipped your tongue inside her, you decided that you would do whatever it took to always have Wanda within arms reach. You simply couldn’t fathom being separated from her for an extended period of time again, and you quickly lost yourself in the drug that was Wanda Maximoff. 
A trembling breath brought your attention back to the woman still sprawled on the sheets. Her legs trembled around your head as you slipped your tongue in and out of her still-leaking center. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally locked those viridescent green eyes on yours. As soon as you made eye contact, you smiled against her core as you brought your fingers up to circle her clit slowly. 
Pulling away, you licked the taste of Wanda from your lips as you slipped two fingers into her without warning. You kept your eyes locked with hers as you slowly started pumping your fingers, and Wanda’s eyes lidded as she attempted to keep her gaze on you. 
Smirking devilishly, you licked a slow circle around her swollen clit before placing a kiss directly on top of it. Resting your cheek against her inner thigh, you kept your gaze on her as the sounds of your fingers roughly slamming into her filled the room. Her slick juices spilled onto the sheets as your fingernails dug into her hip in an attempt to keep her hips in place. 
“I crave you, Wanda.” Your sultry voice tipped her further towards the edge, and Wanda threw her head back against the mattress as she let out a stream of curse words. 
You curled your fingers as you stroked that very sensitive spot inside her, pressing firmly into the spongy walls as you sucked her clit between your lips. Wanda’s back arched, and she practically lifted herself off the bed as she reached her climax once again. This time, you hummed against her as she rode out the aftershocks, and her third orgasm snuck up on her and ripped through her body like a wildfire. 
Throughout it all, you were relentless. Your fingers kept up their bruising pace as your lips chased her clit. You were starting to get light headed as Wanda’s legs squeezed your head, the hand in your hair not allowing you to escape her grasp. Wanda’s hips jerked against you, and she let out a few whimpers as the hand in your hair started pushing against your head. 
“Too much sweetheart, too much.” Wanda choked out, panting in relief when you finally pulled away. She let herself relax fully against the mattress, rolling away from the center of the bed when the damp sheets grew uncomfortable beneath her. You emerged from the small in-suite bathroom with a damp washcloth. Hushing her, you gently brought the warm washcloth to her slick skin as you cleaned her up. 
You couldn’t resist one final taste, and after swiping your tongue to collect the juices still flowing from her slit, you finished cleaning your girlfriend and collapsed on the bed beside her. 
“Well.” Wanda said, and you laughed at her inability to speak as she rolled into your side and buried her face against your bare shoulder. 
Pressing a kiss on the top of her head, you breathed in her familiar vanilla scent as she pulled you closer. You wrapped your arms around her as she draped her legs over yours in an attempt to mold her body against you. You let a hand start running through her hair, detangling it slightly as she fully relaxed into you.
“I missed your laugh.” You said, and Wanda hummed against your shoulder. You began speaking again, your words filling the non-existent space between the two of you. “I missed the crinkle of your eyes whenever you smile at me, and I missed cuddling with you and watching sitcoms. I missed the breakfasts that you cook, and I missed putting away the dishes with you afterwards.” 
You laughed then, not believing the words coming out of your mouth. “I mean, who misses doing the dishes?” You snorted, burying your face back into Wanda’s hair. “Only a fool in love would miss doing the most mundane task.”
Wanda tilted her face until she was looking at you, her green eyes shining up at you. “You love me?” Her voice was colored in surprise, and her face turned hopeful. 
Blinking, you realize the words that had just slipped out. “I mean… yeah.” You began, running your fingers through her hair nervously as you met her wide green eyes. “I hope that’s alright, I don’t want you to feel like you have to say it back right now or anything, but yeah.” You trailed off, feeling the blush rise to your cheeks at your accidental admission. 
One of Wanda’s hands came up to rest against your cheek, and she tilted your flushed face back towards her. Her eyes crinkled as she smiled brightly up at you. “I love you too sweetheart.” 
Your heart started pounding, and a wide smile broke out on your face as you excitedly started peppering Wanda’s face with kisses. “I love you too!” You exclaimed as she laughed, her hands wrapping around the back of your neck as she pulled you in for a proper, searing kiss. 
Pulling away after a few long seconds, you rested your forehead against hers as an uncontrollable grin overtook your lips. Time stood still as you both basked in the newfound confessions you’d made. Wanda’s fingers grazed your jaw, her touch gentle and grounding as your mind raced with excitement. 
In that moment, as your foreheads remained gently pressed together, you knew that this was the beginning of an exhilarating chapter of your life. One that Wanda would be by your side in, her hand pressed in yours as you faced the world and conquered any obstacles that may come your way. As you lingered in each other's gentle embrace, the world outside faded into insignificance, and you knew that you had finally found true love.
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lpfreakification · 1 year
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Long Version: 4 coffees + 3 cupcakes later...
Let's start from when feeling super refreshed this morning.
I can tell I was talking in my sleep again. I distinctly remember dreaming of trying to take a phone order. I could only whisper despite my efforts trying to speak up. Once I caught myself sleep-talking, that was when I knew I was dreaming again. There are moments where I can tell that I'm dreaming. That + when the dream feels strangely longer than usual (due to oversleeping +/or technical difficulties with my alarms). I felt super refreshed than these past two weeks. Blame depression? Idk. Idk...
I felt guilty for not watching GDT's Pinocchio like I wanted to on Wednesday. I had the time in the morning to do so with my 1st coffee of the day :)
I could share my thoughts but I mostly wanna talk about work. Basically, very entertaining + captivating X)
After the movie, I played some Super Mario 64 gameplay in the bg as i played with watercolors. I didnt feel satisfied enough with my coffee so i made another. Thru-out the afternoon b4 work, i was painting multiple LP Freaks.
As I was getting ready for a potentially busy day ahead, I was saying to myself,
"Any last words, Perla?"
"Tell Chris + Paloma I'll see them when I get home."
I saw so mentally prepared for today that I thought yesterday was Friday.
I didnt feel like physically dying of exhaustion today at all either. I was able to grab a grande White Chocolate Mocha AND a venti caramel crunch frappuccino from Starbucks b4hand. (Even rn as I'm typing this, I'm like, "Damn Perla! That's too much!")
The time came. Work mode. The very 1st thing I did was set up tables for a group of 20, a group of 14, + a group of 7. Luckily, I was able to request more silverware from our manager bcuz we were short on them again. That was my main concern + it worked out!
Those coffees from Starbucks helped me pulled thru XD A lot of people saw me in action serving food, taking plates out of the way, + cleaning after them. It's like a turn-based battle? A video game. I look the part (super sash + bandana, particularly) + I feel the part (like a bad@$$) X)
Overall, everything went SO smoothly! No issues from deliveries for once, very manageable parties, + restuarant was nicely packed X3 It was strangely peaceful. A very rare feeling, especially on a Friday night o.0 Better yet, it went by so fast!!!
I skip the one customer's pettiness over a dollar difference in wings + go to the part where I got super hyper XD
It was towards the end of the night + I finished last of the frappuccino. I felt myself slowing down.
"No not yet, Perla. No not yet! I cant leave coworker alone with this many people. I need to stay + help. I gotta pull thru."
The group of 20 were offering cupcakes for their party. Heck, they offered me one too. I stood at the bar, in my own little world, happy dancing as I was eating the bluey goodness. (Yep. My teeth are still blue rn as I write this.)
This was revving me up towards a whirlwind of destruction. Destruction... of... plates, napkins, silverware, empty beer glasses + bottles, + pizza pans. It was a dream come true (sort of, but not literally), stealing/taking items out of the way. Kinda like a scavenger hunt. I find an empty plate + boom! Burst of dopamine or adrenaline? Whatever it's called, it gave me a boost of energy XD
"Stealing is fuuunnn!"
With plates in my hands, especially those heavy pasta plates,
"Super strength, super strength, super strength..."
What a mantra X)
When I wipe the tables:
"Let's... wipe to build up hype! Wipe to build up hype!"
Trust me, I have *so many* more work quotes I say X,D
Back to the cupcake. I was doing fast feet in place. All charged up + went hyper-ballistic. (I debated for the rest of the night if that was a real word: hyper-ballistic). The group of 20 saw me in action as I picked up as much after them as I could. I kept running in small circles to release excess energy. I live how my coworkers tolerate that + are so used to it over the years. (If I did that at home, I'd get a "Perla, calm down!" or "Control yourself!" in a harsh tone). Its days like today where I love my day job bcuz I can be me X)
As I took some breaths to calm myself down, i slowed down again. Rats. Luckily, the group said I could have more cupcakes. Heck, they even encouraged me to squish them together into a sandwich. B4 I took the bite I said to them,
"See you guys on the other side."
I took a big bite.
I felt the power within.
The moments I can recall the most was grabbing them boxes + bags, them tipping big, + thanking them:
For coming
For the company
For the cupcakes
For the tips
The rest of the time cleaning felt like a blur. I do remember cleaning but it's like a smeared image.
...
I am becoming one with my inner cartoon.
Oh snap!
I began yawning as I clocked out late at around 10:30.
I drove straight back home safely, stripped, + on the phone for the past hour (aka here rn) :)
I hope everyone else had a good day today too X)
Time for dilly-dally on the phone some more as I fall asleep for the night.
Just in case,
Nite y'all!
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x-xe · 2 years
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I am alone in a sea of my own thoughts drowned by the voice of a girl screaming and begging to be free from my head.
Her voice has escaped through my mouth on occasion, but her cries ignored and dismissed by those whos voices match the voice of their thoughts.
She has had names throughout the years, eevee, roe, evelyn and just eve though no one but i know them and no one but I understand her, lest for herself if she ever be freed from my head.
I dont know who i am, im scared and everyone I’ve reached out to for help has ignored, told me im making it up or seen it as a fetish when all i want is to be free of the guilt and dread i feel every waking moment spent silencing the cries of an innocent girl who wants nothing more then to be free
But she cant be free, no that would bring peace to our shared mind but that would also come with the acceptance that i am not real, everything i am, i dream of, love, hate and are indifferent of are all dreamt up ideas of emotions of a psychopathic leech on her mind.
I don’t want to die. Sometimes i hurt our body, i cut, i burn, i malnourish but i cant bring myself to end this misery because then she, louder then ever, like a child screams “i haven’t had my go yet.” Ive came close to overpowering her more times then i care to admit and we’ll carry the scars of disagreements past forever.
Everyone says that your teenage years are the most fun youll ever have, and i fear i have taken not only the start of her life but wasted mine trying to get her out our head.
Ive learned to exist almost symbiotically with her voice listening to what she says when a more feminine outlook is appropriate, paint our nails a moody black or girly pink having a few skirts that can go on when the others who dont believe in her existence and experience the simple feminine joy of spinning in a skirt or putting a loose fitting T-shirt over a poorly fitting bra and feeling like the both of us are on cloud nine.
The outside world sees our combined body as a gay cis man, the closer circle know us as a masc-presenting non-binary person who love all shapes and sizes of men and select women but only we, me and her, know that there is a young girl waiting to blossom on the inside all she needs is some encouragement and she’ll come singing and dancing til the sun sets.
Im afraid.
Im scared.
Im angry at the world for being the way it is.
I feel alone.
I know I’m not.
I write this as the thought come to my head, but i know that these feeling, thoughts and emotions will subside tomorrow until i am once again brought to the internet of thing at three in the morning trying to find comfort from my ocean of storms called my psyche.
Dont worry about us(?) im trying to get a therapist sorted to work through these feelings and emotions, decide where to go and what to do, to get her on the outside and looking like a girl and not some teen who didnt care enough to look after themselves. We’ll be fine and hopefully she’ll live the full life she deserves and i, as i am now, will fade into nothing more the a memory of a moody youth.
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happyheidi · 2 years
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ladies, I think it’s time we bring back the circle dance
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bloodycassian · 3 years
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FIRE AND ICE PART THREE - THE END OF IT ALL
Cassian wasn't at the house when you flew back the next morning. Feyre met you in the dining room though, giving you an easy smile and offering you a cup of tea. You took it, hoping she didn't say anything about your puffy eyes. She kept it light, casual. You asked about her painting and summoning wings which she laughed and said "Both could use some work." 
Feyre was a constant that you appreciated. She was safe, and tolerable. Like how Mor was, but you felt like you could trust her more. Mor usually lost herself once a week at Ritas. You didn't want any secrets spilling out there by accident. 
"If you need me, you know I'm here." She said, tone more hushed and serious now. You could only manage a small shake of your head. You didn't have the heart to say you preferred to suffer in silence. The thought of her reaction made you smile. It put on a good enough show, she smiled back and you felt less guilty without saying anything. You made for your room, trying your best to lull the dull aching in your body from sobbing through the night. 
Azriel hadn't left your side the whole time. He didn't say anything besides shushing you when you began blaming yourself for everything falling apart. He had only given you a small wave when you took off together. He flew the opposite way, towards Illyria. You felt colder once he'd left. You didn't know why. You hoped you hadn't scared him off. 
You fell into bed with no grace, and were asleep quickly among the fluffy pillows and soft blankets. Cassian's scent lingered on the pillowed side he claimed when he slept there. You turned away from them, curling in on yourself on the opposite side.
+
Dinner with the entire inner circle the next night wasn’t going to be fun. 
You didnt talk to Cassian the entire day. You waited for your moment to strike at the dinner. And it made it all worth it just to see his face as you said what you’d been planning all night. “I’m leaving for Illyria in the morning.”
Azriel choked on his wine. Mor’s fork clattered to her plate loudly. Az's eyes were wide, and stared at you with worry. Rhys was calm, maybe a bit too much. You checked your mental shields to make sure he was kept out. They held strong.
“Seeing as I lack the proper training, I will be seeking it out at the war camps.” You then met Cassian’s wide eyes. His shocked stare made you smirk at him bitterly. 
“They will clip you.” Az’s voice was little more than a whisper. The thought of it had scared you, yes. But you figured if you were a good enough fighter for the three most powerful Illyrians in history, then you were good enough to take on the likes of Devlon. 
You said nothing to Azriel’s grim words. The tension in the room came to a head when Cassian shot out of his chair, knocking it backwards. “You will not.” He growled. Az’s shadows curled like thick smoke around him, and Rhys tensed. 
“Why shouldn’t she?” Feyre asked, eyes narrowing at Cassian. 
“She dosent know-” Cassian began dismissing.
“I know perfectly well what could happen.” You said with deadly calm. There was a long strained silence after your words. You could practically hear Cas’ teeth grind together.
“Leave us.” Cassian’s tone was an order. The room was deathly silent. He didn't break eye contact with you, just waited for the others to leave.
Mor glanced to Rhys. Feyre’s slight glare did not leave Cassian’s tensed shoulders. Rhys stood slowly, giving the group a gesture. They rose, Azriel last. Then Rhys winnowed them away. 
"If it makes you see me as strong I'll train with them."
"You'll be clipped the second you land." His words sent a thrill of terror through you.
"What do you propose instead? I will not stand by for your protecting."
"Just make this easy... please." He leaned against the table, exhausted with the fighting. "Dont go there. Even if it means.."
"If it means I can't be with you?" You interjected. The entire world seemed to still. You  stopped breathing. They seemed to echo through the dining space. The wind did not make the curtains bellow in the welcoming way they usually did. Your heart slammed in your chest, waiting for his reply.
It was a long wait. But finally - “So you’re leaving me?” He asked, voice rough.
“It seems you give me no other choice. You cant keep treating me like I’m your paper doll, Cassian.” 
The words stung more when they actually came out, instead of the reherals you’d done in your head. They made your throat go tight and your hands shake. You loved him. You knew that. He knew that. But you loved your independence from him more. 
“I just-” He held his head in his hands, his face going red. “I need you.” He sighed. 
“Then be with me!” You were reaching the end of your rope. Your ability to keep going through this with him was wearing thin. This dance of ‘I love you ‘ and ‘prove it’ was ending. You could feel it, as sure as winter was in the air. 
His shoulders shook. Then, you realized he was sobbing. You clamped down on the urge to comfort him. “If leaving you is going to keep you from going to that camp…” He regained his composure. When he finally looked at you again, his eyes were red. His voice shook, “Then at least give me a kiss goodbye.” His lips trembled as he said the words. 
The truth of the situation snapped into place. This was it. This was the only conclusion that would have been made, in the end. Your stomach twisted and flipped in all sorts of new ways. Seeing him so weak, so defeated like you’d never seen before made your mind spin. One of the strongest Illyrians ever was crying… over you. One of the best males you’d ever met was there crying… because you both knew the ending to your story together.
You couldn’t handle it anymore. The floodgates broke and you were sobbing, in his arms in an instant. 
=====================
The next week went by incredibly slowly. You remained nearly catatonic the first two days. Only getting out of bed to use the bathroom. Feyre visited, tried to talk to you. But without you answering back, she went to reading at the couch next to the side of the bed. You turned away, trying not to stare at the pillows scattered on the opposite wall. All the ones Cassian had ever touched - anything that smelled remotely of him.
==========================
Mor finally forced you from bed. Getting up was much much harder than it sounded. She prodded you into getting dressed, and eventually got you down to the city streets for some ‘quality time with the real world’.
“Cassian will-” 
“Cassian isn’t here. It’s about you right now.” She flicked hair from her face. Your mind ran wild. Wasn’t here? 
“What do you mean?” 
“Rhys took him to the continent for some boy time. Az went too. My guess is so that Cassian can’t destroy any buildings in Velaris while he’s on his bender.”
Guilt was the last nail in the coffin. You stood in the middle of the busy sidewalk, not caring that other Fae bumped into you or gave you dirty looks. “I need to apologize..” You managed through the tightness in your throat. 
“No- no no no, hey.” She took your hand and started pulling you along again. You fought away the tears that stung your eyes. They were cool when you blinked them away, the cold nip in the air numbing your face enough so you didnt feel the corners of your eyes beading with the tears. 
“We are going to have fun. You’re coming to Rita’s with me.” She shimmied her hips as you followed her down the familiar alleyway. “Is this really a good idea?” You sighed, offering the door keeper a silver coin. The male nodded and gave you a wolfish grin as you passed him by. 
 Mor paused in the doorway and eyed up the lights, the dancers on stage. “This is a perfect idea. Trust me.”
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
You lost yourself in dancing and drinking. It felt so good to let go. Mor kept a watchful eye on you the entire night, but still had fun. She brought you drinks when you were nearly empty, keeping you fueled. 
You stumbled out close to dawn. Mor winnowed you to a nearby rooftop. You spun, your head swimming in alcohol. "Easy..." She steadied you, holding your arm tightly. You didnt know when your thoughts became your speaking voice, but she was replying to you. You blinked at her slowly, the buzz of the alcohol making you slow and sleepy. 
"This is all a mess. I love him, but Azriel just..." You ran your hands through your greasy hair. You couldnt remember the last time you'd bathed. Mor gave you a grim smile. "I know... I've had to make similar choices." She put a hand on your shoulder and squeezed slightly.
You didn't particularly want to think of her with the same male as you. Or the fact that Azriel had pined after her for so long. Or that she and Cassian definitely had a similar history. You hoped you didn't utter the words to her though. Mor was your friend.
"They are both special males. You need to make the right choice for you though." She pulled you down to the cold rooftop. You knocked your head a bit too hard on the ground, making her choke back a laugh. "It is your life that you decide. Not theirs, they will make their choices." Her hand squeezed yours reassuringly. The stars above shimmered and lulled you
You couldn't bear to speak with her pulling you apart with her words. With all the truth in the world hiding behind her eyes- buried in her soul. All the answers you knew you didn't want to know right now.
So you let yourself fall into the darkness that bordered the stars, drifting to sleep easily.
You avoided the Illyrian males as best you could when they returned. You spent most of your time either asleep in your room after drinking, sparring with Feyre or at Ritas. It was a cycle you grew very accustom to. It worked. It kept your mind off him. Off of the heartbreak.
Mor couldn't drink with you the next week. She had 'important business' in the Hewn city or something similar. So you walked to Rita's alone, sat at your usual table and watched the dancers. By your fourth drink you had joined them. You threw yourself into the delight of drink and merriment with strangers. Various hands caressed your body, the group writhed with you. A living being on the dancefloor, all moving together.
It made you feel whole again. You didn't have to think about Cassian's words, or how he thought you weak. Didnt have to think about the pain you caused him. The worries slipped away with each drink.
You were escorted to the street by a bouncer, along with a few other fae that had been a bit too rowdy. You couldn't hear what was said but it sounded something like 'go home'. You sat on the sidewalk, taking a moment for yourself.  The stars above were shrouded by a cover of fog. It would be a cold morning. You could feel it in your wings, the soft leather was raised with goosebumps. 
"I've been waiting for you." The voice was familiar, but it took you a moment to put your finger on it. Azriel. You grinned at him, wobbling when you took your eyes off the stars. His eyes seemed darker than usual, those shadows of his sluggishly crept around him. Around both of you, you realized when you felt them creep up your legs. 
"Why didn't you join me?" You slurred, shooing his tendrils of darkness off of you. They skittered back to his shoulders, wrapping over him like a coat. His face went a bit flushed at whatever they returned to him.
He held a hand out to you, offering to help you up. "Rita's isn't exactly my style." He grinned, hauling you to your feet with his scarred hands. They were remarkably soft, and warm. You hadn't expected the welcome heat from them against your chilled fingertips. 
"Then what is, shadowsinger?"
His gaze was long and full of questions. "I can show you another time. Let's get you back." He walked you to the middle of the street and took off with you gently, getting you used to flying again. He supported you the entire way, you knew you were drifting. He didn't say anything about it, just corrected and pointed to the landing when you were nearing. He landed first, and caught you when you nearly fell on your face from your rough landing. He couldn't hide the amusement. "Shut up." You shoved him slightly.
 "Do you want me to put you to bed?" He asked, not condescendingly like the words suggested. But genuinely. It made your heart stutter. You stammered - "Ah, no.. No I know where it is." You began walking that way.
"I hope so." He watched you go down the hall. Then, once he heard your door click shut (A bit too loud for normal) He took off again, into the night sky. 
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highsviolets · 3 years
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Drabble: US Ranger Javier Peña (Take Me To Church-verse)
a/n: a drabble for my dearest @frannyzooey​ as part of her Din Djarin Western/Brothel AU Take Me To Church. Thank you for trusting me with part of your story, Kelli -- it’s the greatest honor to be your friend (not to mention writing for you like WHAT). 
rating: E (18+ only!) 
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There are regulars, and then there are regulars. Gracie was always clever, and she was quick to spot the difference early on.
US Ranger Javier Peña was a regular, and he knew all the girls, affectionately greeting every one each time he paid a visit to the madam’s establishment. “Hello Freckles,” he’d say, a gentle kiss accompanying the light endearment for the red-headed girl with stars painted on her cheeks.
A charismatic man with jagged-edge soul, the other girls often complain about Javier when he leaves town — one night rough, the other tender, with no telling how he would love from one day to the next. No one denies that he’s good — if not one of the best — but something about the locked pieces of his heart, the way he loves with a mercurial touch, confuses them.
But Gracie — oh, Gracie is Javier Peña's favorite. An expert at reading his mood, she can tell from the first sip of whiskey at the bar how he will want her. Hands and knees? Bent over the bed? Or on her back, bracketed between strong forearms as he kisses away her gentle cries?
Tonight, Javi’s leaning against the bar as he always does, top button undone for an almost lewd display of skin. There’s a mild crowd: familiar faces and first-timers, some of them huddled around him for a chat about what’s happening out in the settlements nearer to the true frontier. One of them looks vaguely familiar; a friend of Francisco’s, perhaps?
“I wish I could help more,” Gracie hears Javi murmur in a honeyed rasp as she approaches. Just the half-dozen words are enough to make her toes curl and her chin lilt backward slightly in purple anticipation of what else that voice is going to tell her tonight. “But that’s all the information I have. Maybe you’ll be more effective than us, working around, uh” — Gracie spots a hint of tongue dragging across Javi’s lower lip — “official restrictions, as it were.”
The other man — shorter, and strong of build — nods in agreement just as Javier spots you  over the stranger’s shoulder, smirking around the rim of his whiskey glass as he brings it to his lips. Catching his companion’s shift in attention, the other man turns. Handsome, close-set features relax when he spots Gracie and he looks up to Javier with a knowing smile. “I’ll leave you.”
But Javi shakes his head and takes Gracie’s delicate hand in his own larger one, tugging her until she makes contact with his body in a soft stumble. He lets it lay on his chest, the other snaking around to rest low and heavy on her lower back. Comforting, familiar warmth seeps through the flimsy chemise, and Gracie’s struck once again by how sturdy Javier is, thick muscles evident as she glides her palm across the stiff fabric of his shirt.
A kiss to her forehead, openly grazing his hand across back — drifting dangerously close to her ass — Javier is the picture ease. “No reason for you to leave,” he says, regretting the words as soon as he says them. Gracie is all soft and pliant, already melting into him, the rapidly increasing rise and fall of her chest visible thanks to the low cut of her underclothes.
But the man declines, leaving their company with another smile. As soon as he turns his back, Javi spins her into him, bracing her weight against forearm. She sways, and he catches her quickly, hands settling on her waist.
“Hola, Gracie,” Javier murmurs. He lets his calloused hands skim lightly up and down her sides with a feather-touch, fingertips dancing over her curves, and Gracie feels as though she can hardly breathe. Javier is the oxygen, the flame, the cause — he is an inferno, and to get too close to him is to burn.
Gracie has never wanted to be consumed more.
“Hello, Javier,” she coos in response, tilting her head back to properly meet his eyes. Dark in the hazy light, she spots the beginnings of lust in their depths, narrowing ever-so-slightly. They track down to her now-exposed neck and Gracie smiles fondly as Javier bends down to press an open-mouthed kiss to her pulse point.
“I missed you,” Javier murmurs, that hoarse voice against her skin sending heat straight to her core. Dragging his lips north, up the column of her throat, he shuffles his feet closer, bringing his hips flush to hers.
“Javier,” Gracie replies, and even she’s not sure if it’s a rebuke or a plea for more. No one, no one, no one, can make her feel like this; can make her want them, make her thighs drip with arousal, before they even bring her upstairs.
“Missed this,” is all he offers as a whispered response against her ear. Arms tighten around her when she shivers, locking in his embrace, and she can feel the evidence of his arousal as he leans into her even further, hot and heavy against her hip.
With a shuddering sigh, Gracie gathers her wits. Raising her hand for the second time that night, lithe fingers fiddle with his collar, rubbing the material back and forth in steady rhythm. “Are you going to take me upstairs, Javier, or are you just going to keep missing me?”
“Well then, hermosa,” his mouth drawls against her skin, “take me upstairs.”
—-
“Oh, fuck, Javier,” Gracie moans, letting her head dip back between her shoulders. “Oh my god.”
Javier groans from his position between her legs, both of which are now thrown over his shoulders. “Good girl, Gracie,” he breathes, sliding his nose through her folds. “Let me hear you, hermosa.”
Spreading her legs wider, hands gripping at her thighs, Javier decides he likes her like this — up on the vanity, skin flush with the cool surface, looking down at him seated in the chair. Leaning forward, he starts tasting her again, swirling his tongue against clit in tortuously slow circles. An insistent tug on his hair makes him look up at her again — bare, wanting, brow furrowed in pleasure and Javier cants his forward, the sight of her fueling his own need.
Dragging his tongue back down, he licks her open slowly, enjoying her soft cries and exhortations of more, Javier, please.
Slowly, slowly, slowly, he lifts a hand and traces it upwards, grasping at her breast. It’s enough to make him groan, rolling her hardened nipple between his finger and thumb. Pinching at it slightly, Javier moans again when the action causes Gracie to roll her hips against his mouth, insistent.
Still unhurried, Javier dips into her, lapping at her arousal. “God, you taste good,” he mutters against her wet heat, smiling when Gracie tries to grind down on him again. “Do you need something, mi reina?” he adds, nipping lightly at her thigh.
“Javi,” Gracie whines, twirling her fingers around strands of his hair, now curled with sweat and exertion. “Javi, please — oh”
Her request is broken off with a soft moan, taken aback by the way Javier’s now sucking lightly at her clit. “Oh my god,” she repeats. It becomes a stuttering mantra as he returns his hands to her hips, pulling her deeper into her mouth, devouring her with the reckless intensity with which he does everything, his own hips bucking slightly at the way she floods his mouth.
“Come for me, hermosa,” Javier says into her. “Come for me; I know you’re close, I can taste it.”
It should be so strange, him fucking her like this, but she doesn’t care. Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror across the room, spotting his broad-shouldered back and the eagerness with which he eats her, her own eyes wild and bright, is what makes her come undone with a sharp cry. Rolling her hips into his mouth, she rides out her release like a spluttering fire, arousal dimmed for the moment, but not quite put out.
After she pushes him away, over-sensitive, Javier leans up to kiss her. His chin, his lips, are shiny with her slick but she doesn’t care, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him fiercely, letting her tongue slide across his lips and tasting herself on his skin.
“Oh, Javier,” Gracie says, glassy-eyed, as he pulls away. “You’re - you’re incredible.”
His returning grin is positively wicked. “Oh, mi reina,” he whispers, fingers finding their way between her thighs. “Who said I was done with you?”
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jangofctts · 3 years
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I just think kami would want to show you everything and everywhere he loves and I also think that at the end of him showing you his favourite spots he’d sneak you into his ship and it’s cramped and you’re pressed too close but he is living! Because it gives him the excuse to touch you and your just trying to say I it’s bc it’s so small in here but then he starts kissing your neck and he runs his hands up your thighs and when you turn to look at him he kisses you and it gets too hot and your clothing can’t come off fast enough so he just shoved your panties aside and your shirt up so he can grab what he wants.... god he’s so hard bc it’s like his dream to fuck you in his shop and when he finally slips his cock into you he moans so fucking loud because he has to hold himself back so hard I-
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EHEH I WROTE A LITTLE DRABBLE FOR YOU 
ct-8966 kamikaze (kami) // fem!reader
warnings: a wee bit smutty. also im comPleTEly ignoring the blueprints of a MA/AT shIP so please dont yell at me ewkkejwh
“Kami, we’re not supposed to be down here,” you whisper. Your heart squeezes like a fist when the he looks over your shoulder and flashes you a cheeky grin. He reaches for your hand that you readily give and tugs you closer to his crouched from behind the pile of cargo crates. You despise the way your cheeks heat from the mere brush of his shoulder against yours, warm and free from his armor.   
“Wouldn’t be fun if we were,” Kami shoots back. “C’mon, I just repainted her.”
Your grumbling protests are quickly silenced as he leaps up, dragging you by the hand across the hangar in a wild sprint. 
The ship does look nice. The fresh coat of paint takes away from the various blaster marks and the seemingly permanent dirt stains ingrained into the platting.   
“Do you like it?” Kami asks, tugging you closer until you’re both standing on the deck. He’s painted the interior too, a wash of teal, geometric lines and the basic shape of a rising sun over the hatch that sections off the front of the ship. 
“It’s alright, I guess,” you tease. “I’m surprised you didn't paint me as one of those pin up girls.”
A burst of laughter rings through the space. “Blanche would kill me. ‘Sides--we all know Bruiser would wanna take that job.”
You roll your eyes and continue the spur of the moment tour, eager to see whatever Kami deems worthy enough to show you. Another insight into he is as a person and not just that chaotic front of a cocky pilot--
But of course nothing ever goes as planned with him.     
“Damn,” he grumbles as the heavy footfalls of the night shift patrol echo near the ship. “Up we go.”
“Wait!” You hiss as Kami shoves you towards the ladder. “We cant both fit.” 
“You callin’ me thick?” He asks, attempting to mask his smile. It doesn't work.  
“Enormously thickheaded, you buffoon.”
Just as you say it, the white wash of flashlights run over the neighboring ships and fuck--you’re so fired. “We don’t have a choice. Move that voluptuous behind and we’ll have a fighting chance.” 
You bite your tongue, saving your retort for later and storm up the ladder, Kami close behind. Your suspicions are confirmed--the tiny platform right before the cockpit is far too small. Big enough that if Kami spooned you, you might be able to squeeze in two bodies and well--the pilot does just that. What the fuck. 
Kami tucks his foot in and above the ledge just as the reach of the flashlight crawls over the insides of his ship. You don’t care that Kami clutches you to his chest, arms locked around your shoulders as both of your hearts hammer wildly inside of your chests like a million feathered wings. The light lazily bounces around then disappears. You don’t realize you've been holding your breath until the footsteps fade away--your lungs deflate with a long sigh. 
The low reverberation of Kami’s chuckle beside your ear sends a shiver down your spine. Kriff--he’s tucked in close. Near enough that each time he breathes the warmth of his soft exhales disturb the fine hairs on your temple, tickling lightly over your skin. You clench your jaw. 
You squirm, cursing internally when the hem of your shirt rides up your side--it’s too fucking cramped in here. And dark. Kami’s hand is nothing but polite resting on the swell of your shoulder and stars, maybe it’s an accident when he moves it to your hip--calloused thumb resting right over your waistband. You bite your tongue and force yourself not to shiver when he sweeps the digit up...and then down...skimming that strip of much too sensitive skin on your side. 
“This is my favorite place,” Kami murmurs, his lightly chapped lips catching on the ridge of your ear. 
You squeeze your eyes shut and bite your lip, convincing yourself that the light circles he’s rubbing into your skin isn't pushing you towards madness. “What--spooning me?”
You feel Kami’s laugh vibrate through his broad chest, the tip of his nose nuzzling into the dip where your jaw meets your throat. “Pfft--you wish. I’d cuddle a clanker before you.” 
“Liar...” 
Kami’s shoulders lift with a shrug. “Maybe.” His hand inches higher, sliding your shirt to your ribs, the touch still light--tentative and allowing you that space to tell him to fuck off, leave it how it is and stay friends. Just friends. As if this past year was not spent orbiting around each other in a dance of witty banter, playful jabs and those lingering looks that are found in the lull of conversation. You always thought he had such nice eyes--crystalized honey abandoned in a glass jar as the first rays of dawn feather over it and turn it golden.   
When the plush shape of his lips tenderly touch your neck you shudder--a singular match that roars to life and alights your chest with heat. “Kamikaze.”     
He sucks in a shaky breath, removes his hand from your side and cups your chin. He shifts as much as he can in the limited space, almost draping himself above you so that the angle isn't as sharp when you look at him. 
There’s just enough light to see the muted tints of his red hair and the teal of his tattoos. He smiles and, Kriff, he's gorgeous. “Kiss me.”  
You don’t need to be told twice. You tangle your fingers into his short hair and yank him into a desperate kiss, both of you groaning in satisfaction. Maker, this feels so right--tangled in his arms as he’s gripping onto you so tightly, as if he’s terrified that you’d slip through his fingers. That this could be a dream and hell--it very well may be one, but you know a dream could never feel like this. 
He tilts his head and deepens the kiss, sliding his tongue past the seem of your lips and licking deep into your mouth--greedily seizing anything you’re willing to give. You blame the amount of space for how heated it gets, pressed so close with the risk of his body molding to yours as your lips lock with frenzied hunger. Making up for lost time you think--  
When you both apart for air, chests heaving with exertion, Kami mumbles your name and plants a chaste kiss right between your brows.  
Goosebumps follow in his wake as Kami’s fingers dance over you tummy. He Then takes your hand in his and guides it between his legs, a growing hardness glaringly obvious contained within his blacks.“’M thick in other places too, y’know...”
You grin. “Prove it.”
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7thqueen · 3 years
Text
Children Back in Time
Bellatrix laid on the hard ground, unable to move. The piercing wounds she received from Greyback's claws continued to bleed through her dress. She laid on her front, her eyes open and aware but her body not able to move.
She could hear explosions and muttered spells. She moved her eyes to look around. She was on the stairs leading to the bridge and from where she laid down she can see the billowing robes of the person she used to call master.
He had his back turned around them, fighting someone Bellatrix can't see in her position.
She wants to kill him.
She wants to take her eyes back.
She wants her revenge.
She wants to avenge a future she saw that is yet to happen.
She wants to move.
She blinked her eyes, clearing the daze in her mind. Her hands twitched, she couldn't feel her wand in them.
She kept trying to have control over her body. "Episkey" she muttered the spell weakly. The gaping wound in her stomach didn't close one bit but instead only the scratches in her arms closed.
She's weak and drained. Fighting Greyback, Dolohov and two more members of the Dark Lord's circle was hard in her situation. She couldve defeated them if it weren't for the curse.
Bellatrix gritted her teeth as she muttered a numbing spell over her body. She sighed when she felt the pain fade to a dull pulse in her skin. She pushed herself up, she cant find her wand,not that she needs it that much anyway.
She stands up using the wall as support, ignoring the way her leg buckled, it was probably weak and strained but it wasnt felt because of the spell she casted on her body.
She stood at full height, she looked around. People were crowded some distance away from her. She looked at the dark lord's direction and she stopped rigid at what she saw.
Narcissa was on the ground, holding a limp body of Andromeda blood on her mouth, lying on her folded leg was an unconscious Draco. At least Bellatrix thought he was unconscious.
A few distance from them was a lying body of the boy who lived. Narcissa was crying and Bellatrix felt an incredible amount of anger come though her at the sight.
She had never seen Narcissa look so broken.
And now she she did.
Andy was getting closer to deaths door.
Draco probably tried fighting back but still lost.
And the boy was already lying face down like she did earlier.
She could see the dark lord point his wand at them. And in instant Bellatrix Moved.
She didn't think about what to do. Her speed was a blur as she appeared behind Narcissa. Putting her hand in the air she casted the strongest shield she can muster before the green color of Voldemort's spell she reached them.
"Bella!" Narcissa cried out, looking behind her shoulder. "It's okay" Bellatrix comforted through her teeth, her attention and focus bleeding through her shield.
"I'll defeat him" she gritted her teeth when she felt the center of her body churn painfully. Her shield was standing strong but her magic is almost drained.
"He's too strong Bella and your magic is wavering" Narcissa reminded Bellatrix of her predicament as she stepped forward in front of her sister.
She casted the same spell again and again while Voldemort stood in front of her, amusement painted on his pale face.
" And here I thought you died already Bella" Voldemort sneered at her but Bella didnt listen as she tried to shrink the distance between them.
They rounded each other, Bellatrix not putting her shield down. Her wounds bleeding faster, wetting her black dress a darker shade.
She felt blood come up her throat. Internal Bleeding, she surmised but didn't give ground with her shield.
They slowly rounded each other. She could see Voldemort also having a bit pf a hard time with the prolonged spell.
They have both been weakened by their previous fights. She focused all her attention to her shield, waiting for a moment for the spell to weaken before lunging to attack.
She could see the people of Hogwarts hover the end of the bridge, watching with stricken face, wondering who would win. Bellatrix likes to think it's her because she would still be better than Voldemort.
Her magic was rapidly draining now, her wound opening and bleeding. She even swallowed the blood that threatened to come out her mouth, it wasnt wise to show your state to your enemy. It can be easily used against you.
Then suddenly, out of nowhere, there were cracks of apparation. Before Voldemort and her can even look, the largest and biggest 'Bombarda Maxima' exploded at her face.
It was Vela's spell, mixed with Delphi's lightning and Rigel's enchantment. It was deadly amd she would've been blown by the spell if it werent for the another spell of protego that layered her own.
"Bellatrix" her eyes widened comically at the voice. Her body gave out as she crumpled to the floor, either from her spell or the voice, the dark witch wasnt sure.
"..Muddy.." Bellatrix muttered the name weakly after puking the blood out her system.
".. your here.." Bellatrix closed her eyes when Hermione gave her a short hug.
"I'm sorry for being so late" Hermione looked sincerely guilty as she wrapped Bellatrix's hand on her shoulder as support.
"..mom!" The combined voices of her children, Delphi, Vela and Rigel echoed in Bellatrix's ears.
"Were okay!" Rigel shouted over the distance. He had Draco by the neck, while Delphi quickly went to Andromedo, probably to heal While Vela was helping Narcissa stand up, and Bellatrix finally noticed the bloodied legs of her sister.
"Quickly! Get out of here!" Hermione shouted back. She saw clear hesitation on her children's eyes.
"But-"
"Go!"
It was Bellatrix this time and they quickly apparated away. Obeying through gritted teeth and anxious eyes.
She felt an explosion sound again and both of them turned again. The spell they casted to Voldemort was still exploding, buzzing with deadly fire, lightning and enchantment Rigel provided in the spell.
"Drink this" Bellatrix blindedly drank the potion, and suddenly she was aware that her numbing spell has faded. She could've fallen to the ground again if it weren't for Hermione's support.
She felt her wounds heal and start to close up but her magic was still drained.
"Harry's still here" Hermione stated when she nearly stumbled upon the battered body of her friend. Bellatrix didn't say anything, focusing on the painful stitching of her wound.
"Take him away" Bellatrix said when the pain faded a bit. "But what about you?! I can't just leave you here alone!" Hermione glanced between the two but Bellatrix gave her a hard look.
"You're not going to leave me here alone right?" Bellatrix chuckled at her.
"Of course not!"
"That's why you should take him away, I trust you to come back"
"What if-"
" I can still hold my ground until you come back. Its not like your gonna leave for a minute" Bellatrix tried to play lightly. Taking the boy away would just be added to the list of people who won't die today.
"Give me the wand" she ordered before Hermione could say anything else. "Go, the sooner you leave, the faster you can come"
She gave Hermione a hard kiss before the crack of apparition popped in front of her.
She gripped the foreign wand in her hand. It was too thin.
She pointed it to the exploding spell Voldemort was trapped in. "Bombarda"
Nothing happened. She spat on the ground in frustration. The wand won't listen to her. She could see the trap was getting weaker, Voldemort can break it anytime now.
Absolute. Magical. Control
She chanted in her head. She had to make the wand bend to her will no matter what happens.
She closed her eyes to help her focus. She tuned out the sound of explosion, the air, the tumbling rubbles and rhe thunder happening above her head and even when there were suddenly multiple sounds of apparition that happened behind her. She didnt react.
In whatever that's left of her magic, she channeled it through the wand in her hand.
Listen to me, just this once. Just until this fight. Just until he's defeated. She pleaded but the wand isnt reacting yet.
Listen here you piece of stick. Bend to my will or I will break you! Were at war and your not in the position to fucking choose! Your boy lost and I am the only one who can use you right now! I wont lose a future that I desperately wanted just because you wont listen!..
Bellatrix pushed a surge of magic through the stick before feeling it connect with her magic.
She opened her eyes to see four backs against her. " I knew you wouldn't listen" she stated, walking to level with Hermione.
"Family comes first mom"
Vela muttered with a smile.
When the exploding spell finally broke, Hermione instantly reached for bellatrix's hand. Threading them together.
She could instantly feel her magic dance with Bellatrix. The familiar sensation giving her comfort that they are doing this together.
The way their magic seemed to amplify each other was the only thing they can use against Voldemort. Bellatrix looked down at her and Hermione smiled.
Together.
"We'll distract him until you can prepare the spell" Delphi muttered before the three of them disappeared in light speed ad appearing at the spell they casted earlier.
"Be careful" Hermione called out in the air, aware that the Three would hear it.
"Can we still cast it?" Hermione held Bellatrix by the waist. She could feel the blood wetting her hand. She stopped the tears that was stinging her eyes, it wasnt time to be showing weaknesses.
"We have to. But I have barely enough magic" Bellatrix leaned at the younger brunnette, caressing hairs away from a dirty face. Her eyes were worried and anxious and Bellatrix's situation is not making it better.
"We can use mine" Hermione answered. "We havent tried it yet but we have to do it. If its not enough, we can ask the kids"
Bellatrix grinned at the way Hermione said 'her kids'. Her heart warming up at the fact that she has a family now and that they were all fighting to have a better future.
"Okay" she agreed. She took out her own dagger while Hermione took out her wand. They boh began carving.
Hermione kept wincing at the pain, she would've applied a numbing spell but they have to conserve every drop of magic they have.
Bellatrix was an instant in carving in her wrist. The curse of her dagger would help in the spell. The elven runes bled in her wrist but she kept carving. She would carve everything she can in her own wrist in order to minimize the runes Hermione would apply.
Bellatrix already filled the front of her wrist with the bloodied runes. She flipped jer wrist and then dug her dagger.
"One more line" she comforted Hermione when she was finished and when that final line bled into the skin, it glowed. Hermione looked at the dark witch in the eye, praying silently that it will work. She held Bellatrix by the cheek and the dark witch let their foreheads meet.
They chanted.
Survey the Heavens, Open the Heavens... All the stars, far and wide... Show me thy appearance... With such shine. Oh Tetrabiblos...
Voldemort’s eyes widened at the incantation and when he realized it was a sealing curse he panicked. 
Noticing the flustered look, Delphi conjured a spear with her magic before throwing it at the man’s position. It traveled through the air, Vela casted her own magic on the black spear, wrapping in the spear in glowing flames while Rigel poured his magic into it, enlarging the black material of magic until the tip of the magic was already as tall as them.
The spear raced through the air while Vela and Rigel combined hands to cast their own Incarcerous at Voldemort’s feet. The spear hit straight to the dark man’s chest but it didnt kill him. Instead, the magical spear pinned Voldemort to the wall of the bridge. The sound of scream that came from the man’s throat was music to Bellatrix’s ears but she didnt let it get her out of her focus. 
I am the ruler of the stars... Aspect become complete... Open thy malevolent gate. Oh 88 Stars of the heaven...
A swirl of white and gold magic mixed at Hermione and Bellatrix’s feet before expanding into the floor in what Hermione could recognize as a magic circle. The white and gold kept getting bigger and bigger as they kept chanting. Hermione could already feel the draining of her magic but she kept going.
Delphi crumbled to the floor on her kneess in an effort to keep the spear in Voldemort’s body. The spear was a hard to keep up, it was a spell meant to disappear as soon as it hits its target but she’s keeping it right there, to bind Voldemort to the wall, despite the screams and spells he flung out of his wand towards her direction. 
Vela and Rigel had the perfect teamwork in exchanging between offense and defense, keeping up their own magic with Delphi was hard but they had it easier than their eldest. Vela sent out another flaming spell that managed to almost break the bridge at the power. Rigel casted a shield, strong enough to stand the heat and fire that almost enveloped them and their parents.
Spirit to Body...
Hermione looked around them before meeting Bellatrix’s eyes, they were focused and hard but when they contacted, they softened before they focused again.
Body to Mine...
Bellatrix pulled her closer.
As I chant...
Bellatrix focused on her magic, leaking it into her words as she chanted the spell.
Undo the Bind,
Bellatrix moved to change their position. She wrapped her right on Hermione’s waist while the other left threaded with Hermione. Hermione thinks the position looks a lot like a tango position but she didn’t say anything. They pointed their threaded finger at the binded Voldemort. 
What Now Holds..
My soul to me..
Vela, Rigel and Delphi moved away when the shine of the spell was starting to become blinding. 
With this spell
Now set it free!
This was just draft guys hahaha. Pardon the lack of details and proper conveying of whats happening
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spiltscribbles · 3 years
Text
I Carry Your Heart With Me
~Notes: Hiya loves! So I wrote this in dedication and thanks to the gorgeous @sophiegaladheon for donating to the amazing Fandom Trumps Hate event!!!! I moving this from AO3 just because of me wanting to just a couple things lol. You’re a remarkable person Sophie! Thank you for being so SO beyond kind and for being patient with me and I’m glad that you enjoyed this when you read it<3<3 It literally makes me emotional with joy!!
.-
Send ME A Prompt  |  A Reblog Is So SO fucking amazing!!!
.-
And as the bandaged knot was tightened,
  the two men smiled  into each other’s eyes 
—Hart crane
.-
There’s muffled laughter that reverberates through the door, drown out by the playlist Pez had queued up as soon as they all had clambered into Alex’s room to begin getting prepared for the wedding of the century. Henry can easily picture the way Beatrice is swiping a makeup brush across June’s cheekbones, and how Pez and Nora alternate between dancing on Alex’s bed to screaming about their hatred for most people; and it makes him grin. Their group is unconventional as hell, but they’ve all slotted into one another’s lives so seamlessly that there must be something like providence that brought them together and kept them as bound as they are. And Henry loves them all with every inch of himself, but he soon loses attention when his eyes flicker from the door to the mirror in front of him where Alex is still primping and preening.
The dim light of the loo attached to Alex’s room glitters in his brown eyes, softly caresses his features while  he sprits on his final coat of cologne before the night commences, a idl hand tousling his hair into an artful sort of muss, and Henry can’t take his eyes off of him from where he’s lounging against the wall behind him, flickering between appreciating the sight of  Alex’s miraculous arse in those black slacks,  and his gorgeous reflection that’s grinning at him knowingly; either way  Henry’s smiling to himself at the lovely sight of it.
Alex is beautiful through every layer, to his very core, and it makes Henry go weak at the knees, makes his head swim with the realization that he’s with him, that he chose Henry. Alex loves Henry, and that must mean something. Must mean that the frantic thudding to Henry’s heart— the adoration and love and need Henry’s always been crippled by— is mirrored in Alex’s own. Not to as drastic of a degree surely, but it’s there. And that’s enough, that’s all Henry had ever wanted ever since  that brilliant day at the Olympics that sealed his fate so unswervingly. A fate that was made only more permanent once they had fallen into one another at Philip’s wedding, and just kept falling in different ways in different countries in different intensities. A falling that never stopped, a falling that intwined them in ways that Henry could never fathom unwinding. A falling that locked them together in ways he was brought up reading about in feted love stories printed out in black and white, and what he got to see painted out in real life with how his mother’s eyes always twinkled that bit brighter when gazing at his father, and how Arthur’s smile in turn only ever got soft in that particular way when she was besides him. A love story Henry never thought he could have, never thought would be within his grips considering how bleeding gay he is. But he did. 
Henry found that picture of glittering color, that wave that can swallow him whole if he’s not careful, that strumming to his insides. He found it in how Alex laughed with his head thrown back when he's especially happy. Found it in the way Alex reads while mouthing the words, like his lips couldn’t stay still even in silence. Found it in the look on Alex’s face when Henry brings him over the edge in their bed. In the way Alex kissed him back underneath a thousand polluted city stars and amidst the vivid greens of the Whitehouse garden that January night. Found it in the way Alex’s touch to Henry’s skin always felt like a cocktail of excitement and wanting and comfort. 
Henry’s found his forever with Alex and there’s no doubt in any nook or crevasse of his insides that they wouldn’t spend the rest of their lives knotted into one another. But the thought does feel like a bit of a noose clamping  around his heart— painful and terrifying with its intensity— when it makes the left pocket of his suit drag that bit heavier. The pocket where Henry tucked in a small velvet box with the wedding band his father had worn till his final breaths, the one that Henry’s resized in Alex’s measurement and bought a matching pair for himself. And it’s making his insides go this strange tingling feeling, standing here in the confluence of all he and Alexander are and all they have been and all they will be.
It’s not like he doesn’t want to ask, like he hasn’t wanted to ask Alex every minute of every day ever since his mother had given him the piece of jewelry six months ago with a thin smile and watery eyes. When she had asked him to help make their family full once more.
God, Henry wants to ask him, wants to get to call Alex his partner in every delightful sense of the word. And he even thinks Alex’ll say yes, is almost positive of it. Even if they end up with a longish engagement. That doesn’t matter to Henry, it’s the promise of the whole ordeal, the promise of wanting to spend forever tangled into each other’s arms. But for all of Henry’s talent with a keyboard and his knack for syntax and his naturally developed mind that’s always been able to fold words into one another to read like a stream of thought. He’s not nearly as well versed with his tongue, with his spoken syllables pouring out his mouth in a coherent, tender sort of way the first time around. And Alex deserves that, deserves the whole damn experience of it. He deserves pink flamingos and double rainbows and a big band playing the first song they kissed to while they stood in the center of fairy lights with a crowd crooning and crowing in the background.
Alex deserves it all and Henry doesn’t know how to give him any of it, but God he wishes he could.
“We look like a pair of stallions if I do say so myself Henryson,” Alex says, pulling Henry out of his romantic daydreams, and pinning him with a smile as bright as the bloody sun.
Gingerly, Henry reaches his arm out and twirls a finger into one of his curls, tugging slightly. “I suppose you’re decent. Perhaps Zahra won’t skewer you on her big night.”
“Hmm,” Alex smirks, saddling closer up to him, hips brushing against hips as he locks each of his hands on either end of Henry and dimples up at him, affecting that mischievous air that Henry’s always been weak for. “And tell me sweetheart, would you protect me if she harmed one little  hair on my perfect head?”
Henry exhales amusedly from his nostril, bending his head forwards to press against Alex’s own, and dragging his thumb across his plump bottom lip. “Dunno, I reckon you might’ve deserved it. You do have a cheeky mouth after all love. And your hands are a bit of a hazard.”
Alex leers right then, glittering with intent. “I bet you’d like to see what my hands could do to you.” He counters, sliding his palm to the front of Henry’s already pitched trousers, and as much as he does crave the silent offer, he suddenly gets the awful thought of Alex finding the weighted pocket and the ring embedded there, and no. Absolutely not! Henry will not propose to the love of his life in the middle of a sodding bathroom while in the midst of getting a handy!
In a flash, Henry’s moved so Alex is crowded against the shut doorway— the music louder here and clouding Henry’s mind slightly as he dips down to crash his lips against Alex’s own. Admittedly, it’s not their smoothest snog, more like a cacophony of spit and lips and teeth, but it still makes his every nerve endings go ablaze and his toes curl and his ruddy heart pulse unevenly. And Henry reckons that it’s just a side effect of merely being in the presence of Alex like this, full of intent.
Unlatching himself from Alex, Henry moves to mouth against his neck, tasting his skin that’s a bit soured by the endless cologne but pleasant enough if only Henry knows that its Alex’s supple skin beneath his grazing lips. 
“Ooo,” Alex pants out breathily, canting closer eagerly, and hands fisted in Henry’s curls. “Yeah, mmm. I like this too.”
Henry smirks to himself, snorting at him as he slowly moves apart so that there foreheads are touching once more. “You reckon you can stay quiet for me?” He asks lowly, pressing a none too delicate finger down his clothed chest before landing at the front of his trousers, and begins to circle the hardness growing there.
“Why?” Alex asks, dark eyes glinting and lips quirked into a cocky sort of grin. “You think you’re good enough to make me loud Henryson?”
The growl caught in Henry’s throat takes them both off guard, but it also makes Alex beam with pure mirth, so Henry only kisses him once more— hard and rushed and greedy— before he twists him around without warning and begins to kiss across the nape of his neck and the breath of his broad shoulders, stopped intermittently by a lapping tongue or tender teeth— as Henry also palms Alex’s front, unbuttoning his suit jacket to tossing it to the countertop, quickly moving to unbutton Alex’s shirt too, so Henry can drag a hand through his very hard, very naked skin, nipples pebbling under his ministrations, before he gingerly— methodically— undoes Alex’s trousers, falling along with his pants to the ground and shackling his ankles in place.
“I reckon I can, but I also need you to be quiet about it lest the others get concerned over your mewling,” Henry whispers, lecherous against Alex’s ear as the hand not playing with Alex’s nipple, grips his now fully hardened dick, pumping only slightly as he thumbs at the leaking seam. 
“Humph, I don’t— Oh. I don’t mewl!” Alex grumbles out, trying to rock his hips to get some friction going but instead getting increasingly redder with frustration at Henry’s unyielding wrist.
“Oh? You don’t?” Henry asks with a smug sort of grin as he quickly squeezes harder around his shaft, twisting and pumping,  making the other boy toss back his head, turning it so that his small yelp is muffled by Henry’s neck.
“Fuck you.”
“Maybe later tonight, but for now if you don’t mind putting your hands against the door while I grab the lube?”
Alex glares at him with an air of absolute irritation, but agrees anyhow, kissing him deftly before pressing his hands against the door, bent slightly so that his naked arse is out for show, clenching and relaxing in a sort of sensual rhythm with anticipation. And Henry smiles at the lovely sight of it as he shuffles through the drawer they had tucked away their essentials the first day of coming back to DC for the wedding. He plucks out the jar of lubricant from the mess of other tools and a few toys, idly thinks of popping out the plug to tease but decides against it. He wants to feel Alexander, wants to really be inside of him.
“You are such a slow fucker Henry!” Alex barks from over his shoulder, still poised for a good shagging.
Henry snickers, flicking Alex’s nose endearingly before shedding off his own jacket and undoing his trousers. “Oi, I’ll show you slow.” He goads, rubbing a good amount of the clear liquid into his palm before he takes his own cock in hand and strokes leisurely, reasons he could really just come from the sight of Alex waiting for him, perfect and precocious and panting. Though it’s not much of a punishing considering that Alex’s pupils only grow that bit larger and his cheeks flush in a familiar, wanton way.
Henry smirks. “You’re enjoying yourself?”
“You’re fucking hot,” Alex sputters. “How can I not?”
Henry bites down on his bottom lip so not to appear too pleased at the retort, but he also can’t stay away from Alex for much longer, and just saddles up behind him, cloaking his fingers up with the lube hurriedly.
“You ready love?”
“Have been ready you dickwad.” Alex snipes, shaking his arse again for good measure. Henry just grins,  bending down to nip at his shoulder in penance as a singular finger circles around Alex’s fluttering hole, before he just dips it into the entrance up to his first knuckle, making Alex moan. 
“Shh,” Henry reminds him, clapping a hand against his mouth pointedly. “I love hearing you dear, but I don’t think either of us want to suffer through the ribbing the others will dole out.”
Alex nods, face grimaced but still eager as he rocks backwards, making it so Henry gets up to his second knuckle before reasoning that it’s about time for a second finger. 
“Jesus, you’re gorgeous,” Henry breathes out, can’t prevent the wonder from seeping into his voice as he stretches Alex out, just barely pulling out for a third digit before Alex’s chest rumbles with a sound of exasperation. 
“Just go in already.”
“Oh? yeah? You think you can take it?”
Alex swallows down, hard, before nodding quickly. “Please Henry, you’ve been playing with me for like hours.”
“It’s barely been five minutes,” he says wryly, laughing when in turn Alex only sticks his tongue out fumingly. “Right, right, well I suppose we do have a prior engagement.”
“Yeah, course. We don’t wanna be late? Think about how gauche!”
Henry chuckles once more, rubbing a new coat of lubricant to his cock before lining up to Alex. “You’re just afraid that Zahra’ll have your head on a plate.”
“Please, sweetheart, for the love of God can we not bring other people into the conversation while you’re getting ready to fuck me?”
Henry concedes with an abashed quirk of the lips, takes Alex’s flagging erection in hand and strokes it once and sure before he slowly inches into him. And fuck, Henry will never not love the sensation of Alex, in all forms. On him, against him, inside of him, around him. Alex is the headiest sort of drug and Henry doesn’t think he’d ever survive a withdraw, that he can ever not crave him in all his variations of light.
Breathing in deeply, Henry finally bottoms out, practically collapses over Alex as he tries to re-acclimate  himself to the tight, throbbing heat of him. It’s so bloody miraculous. 
“H— Alex nearly whines, shaking himself a bit. “Move, will you?”
“Oh, right,” Henry musters back up his focus, sliding out of him only partially before slamming back inside, is always afraid of hurting Alex. But then Alex squeezes on the wrist where his hands are resting on either end of his hips, and squeezes, And that’s as clear of an instruction as he can give while staying hush, hush. So tossing all caution to the wind, Henry thrashes into him without abandon, pulling out nearly completely and then pounding back inside in a graceless, unforgiving pace, and it’s enough for Alex to leap on his toes, for him to squeeze his eyes shut while his head rolls back on Henry’s shoulder, for his hands to shake on their perch against the increasingly rattling door. And some idl part of Henry’s mind— the one that isn’t swallowed up entirely by Alex and all the sensations he sparks to life within Henry— prays to God above that their friends aren’t paying any mind to the shut bathroom entrance.
“Yes, yes, yes Henry.” Alex moans out,  losing his footing when Henry pushes in that bit harder, that bit deeper, targeting exactly that nest of nerves within him, and he quickens his pumping of Alex’s dick, feeling buoyed when Alex comes without warning. Hot, white liquid pulsing out of him in a pulsing stream, and making it so Alex can only lie boneless against the doorway. And it doesn’t take Henry long to follow, an arm slung tightly  around Alex’s waste as he thrashes forwards, lost in the entirety of him, kissing the nudges of his spine as he catches for his release, nudged on by the pulsing and slickness and it’s just once more before Henry is coming also,  hurriedly pulling out as his own spunk spills across the expanse of Alex’s back and arse and the tops of his thighs. Henry stares at the picture of it with reverent eyes as he leans against the sink, breathing heavily.
“God, we are good at that.”
“Tell me about it,” Alex says, face flushed an absolutely glowing as he rummages for a couple hand towels, and then seemingly thinking better as he glances at them, and then his and Henry’s messy states.
“Second shower?”
Henry nods, “Think we ought to.”
“Right, well you wash me first because I think i’ll need like another ten minutes before I can move any extremities.”
Henry laughs and tugs him close for a quick kiss. God he loves him so much.
.-
The grandiose, Willard ballroom is dressed in ornate decorations and filled with sharply clad folks who are some of the top tear heads of Western politics, though for the most part they’re drown out by the familiar faces of Shaan’s family, and even more that either share Zahra’s nose or the shape of her eyes. It’s beautiful in its discrete, demure nature and it makes Henry’s heart flutter. He only wishes he had a decent sodding poker face because right then Beatrice, in all her smug glory, saddles up to him, and leers.
“You thinking about that wedding journal you had as a lad.”
Henry glares, fuming. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Your theme was red with golden accents wasn’t it?”
“Did I ever tell you that you were adopted.”
“You even had all these cute little sample cards for the invitations.”
“We found you in an alien species of barmy bints.” Henry continues to growl.
Beatrice laughs raucously, tossing back her chestnut curls and pinching his cheek like the doting older sister she’s always been. “You’re precious when you get all cross.”
“I hate you.”
“Nah, you really don’t,” she says loftily. “Now c’mon, Alex and Nora are trying to steal some flowers from the bouquet before Zahra notices, and we’re s’pose to be distracting the newly weds.”
Henry rolls his eyes long sufferingly. “We’re dating absolute lunatics, you do know that, right?”
Beatrice smiles— resigned— and hooks her arm through Henry’s own. “I know, we’re truly a mess.”
.-
If there was ever the picture of a glowing bride— beautiful and bright and breathtaking— Zahra would be the epitome of it. Her curls are pulled back into an elegant bun and her lovely features are only accentuated by the makeup rather than obscured by it, and she hasn’t let loose of Shaan’s hand for the whole reception. It brings a pang to Henry’s heart, not envy per se, but longing. Longing for what they have, for the pure, unadulterated simplicity of it. And it’s only settled when he thinks of Alex, knows that he has that precise kind of relationship with him. And God, he’s never wanted to show it off more.
“You guys having fun,” Shaan asks, pecking a kiss to Beatrice’s cheek and slinging an arm around Henry’s shoulder.
“’s a beautiful night,” Henry tells them, his voice vibrant and his heart full.
“Thank you sweets,” Zahra preens, brushing back the curls from his forehead and eyeing him speculatively when her fingers come back wet.
“Erm— Don’t ask?”
Zahra looks only mildly alarmed but fully understanding, humor twinkling in her dark eyes. “Ah, well then, speaking of which. You two mind informing your better halves that they aren’t slick, and they’re only lucky I put a decoy in the place of the real bouquet instead of actually punishing them.”
Laughter bubbles out of the foursome and Henry isn’t at all surprised that she’s always two steps ahead.
“Bloody hell, I told those dunces that they could never pull one over on you!” Beatrice groans, arms crossed and weight slung to her left hip. “But do they listen? No of course not.”
“We should probably tell them that they need to wait in line for the bouquet toss like the rest of us, yeah?” Henry asks her, smiling pleasantly at a new couple that’s meandered over to shake hands with the bride and groom.
“Oh no, let them deal with it on their own, we, my lovely little brother, will be drinking to forget.”
“How very British of us.” Henry snorts wryly. 
“Never said I wasn’t predictable,” she retorts, grabbing his wrist and carting him off to the open bar.
.-
It’s an hour later that finds a very disgruntled looking Alex saddling up to Henry with a very prominent frown, his hair covered with wayward petals that Pez has been tossing around without abandon for practically the entirety of the night. The venue’s dwindled down so that it’s only Zahra’s and Shaan’s nearest and dearest that are left. From the table’s he’s sat at Henry can see his mother holding a conversation with Luna and Leo that’s filled with laughter, and he sees June with her father trying to set up a new playlist to the speakers once the live performers had left. He can also spot Ellen and Zahra giggling like school girls while Shaan nods along, and kisses his now wife’s hand intermittently between the smiles he tosses Nora and Beatrice who are starting a ridiculous dance with a few others to the tune of the Peter Gabriel song playing out. 
It feels like the room has been  bathed in a sort of serenity that makes something warm and remarkable unfurl in Henry’s gut. An ambiance of love and nurture cradling them all together.
“You could’ve told us it was a ploy you dick.” Alex harrumphs for the umpteenth time in the past ten minutes.
“You should’ve known yourself,” Henry toots, a little too busy musing on how Alex’s long lashes kiss the tops of his cheekbones every time he blinks and how beautiful he looks in the moonlight shimmering through the wide partitions.
“How did she make it so they stung! That’s all I ask you!”
Henry smiles indulgently, moves forwards to kiss the hinge of Alex’s jaw to console him. “She’s a evil genius love, don’t let it upset you.”
Alex sniffs, still sulking but already beginning to relax his muscles. “Yeah, whatever, at least Pez caught it instead some random fuck.”
“He is happy with himself, it’s cute. Innit?” Henry says, flickering his eyes over to where his best friend's dragging a giggling June off to the dance floor.
“Mmm, yeah.” Alex says, tucking closer to Henry’s side. “Makes you think, doesn’t it?”
Henry pulls back, pinning him with a one eyed squint. “What do you mean?”
“You know,” Alex shuffles in his seat, cheeks flushed and eyes downcast. “The whole thing. Like it makes you think of the future and all of that crap.”
Henry swallows down the lump in his throat, feeling suddenly dazed. “Yeah, yeah it does.”
Alex looks up, smiling thinly. “So what? You want something like this? With the flowers and music and you in a white dress.”
Henry glares now, flicking Alex’s nose. “Oi, who said I’m the one in the dress?”
“Well sweetheart, you do have the legs for it,” Alex croons smugly, kissing the corner of Henry’s mouth tenderly and laughing when Henry begins to prod at his side.
“You’re an arse.”
“But you still do,” Alex asks. “Think about it I mean?”
Henry breathes out, caressing Alex’s cheek to try and infuse all the love and adoration he feels for him in that single touch. “I think about it every bloody day Alexander, I want you for forever.”
Alex’s shy grin transforms to it’s ordinary, megawatt brilliance, and he kisses him right on the mouth with fervor. “God I love you.”
The knot in Henry’s chest loosens, and it suddenly feels like he can breathe again, like the love he feels for Alexander isn’t drowning him with its intensity but coaxing him into wakefulness, into feeling alive for the first time in a long time. 
“I’ve got a ring,” he admits, speaking against Alex’s lips, and tugging him closer.
Alex pulls back a bit, brows hiked and gaze alight. “Oh yeah?”
“yeah, yeah I do. But I reckon if I propose to you in the middle of Zahra’s wedding she’d poach my head to a stake.”
Alex snorts. “You’re not wrong. But lucky us we’ve got a whole hotel filled with empty rooms.” 
Alex smirks wickedly and Henry feels his insides go abuzz. “Let’s go.”
And when Alex twines their fingers together, pulling him up and kissing him softly before they can rent out a room, Henry suddenly feels so very light.
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modern-vellichor · 3 years
Text
In Her Blood; Three
Summary: Steve's birthday gives plenty opportunity to play your little game. Bridges are being rebuilt between you and Steve when Sarah doesnt come home.
Pairing: DadsBestFriend!Bucky x Reader, Sam x Steve
Warnings: smoking, angst, drinking, alcohol use (not abuse), uncomfortable family dynamic, age gap relationship.
Previous Chapter || Masterlist
Sam, Sarah and Bucky are all standing around the kitchen counter, Steve is blowing out candles on a birthday cake.
You shoulder through the front door, carrying a large cardboard box on your hip. You place it on the counter in front of Steve, and you smile.
"happy birthday, Steve-o"
He looks a little confused at first, he's wary opening the box. He's faced with oil paints and synthetic brushes, canvases and a mole skin sketchbook.
"were these spare from school?", he asks her, trailing his finger down the spine of his notebook.
"nope, bought them in my supply shop before I flew back, been hiding it in my trunk", she smiles, sitting herself in the stool beside Bucky.
"well", he says, surprised. "Thank you"
You shoot him a kind smile and turn to Sarah as she explains the plans for the night; "we're going to a new place, it should be nice and quiet considering it is the fourth of July"
The next time you're all together, Sam and Steve are clad in suits and you and Sarah are tugging dresses along behind you. You climb into your car and shout to Sarah through an open window.
"I'll pick up Barnes and follow yall there, wait for us outside!"
She throws you a thumbs up and you pull up outside of Bucky's house, honking your horn.
When he opens his door you have to hurriedly pick your jaw from the floor before he slides in next to you, his suit hugging every muscle perfectly.
You throw a pack of Marlboro Golds at him and he knows what to do. Lighting one between his teeth, he passes it to your lips. You nod in thanks, and then he drops his hand to your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. Your breath catches in your throat.
It isn't long before you're parking on the curb next to your family and throwing your butt out the window. Bucky is opening your door and offering his hand before you even have your belt unplugged. You take his hand and graciously step into the humid summer night.
The bar is quaint, dimly lit. Your dress shimmers in the flickering candle light, warm and homely. Bucky's hand stays on the small of your back, rubbing hot circles on exposed skin.
You and Bucky are the last to slot into the curved bench around a large table, you only have to step over Bucky to escape, but he's got you trapped, right where he wants you.
You all drink the night away slowly, whiskeys and Manhattan's, a cranberry vodka soda for you, a dangerous drink.
Bucky's hand stays on your thigh the whole night, hidden under the table, the slit in your dress the perfect place to slip his hand to bare flesh.
It's just gone midnight when Sam and Steve are sauntering onto the dancefloor and swaying in eachothers arms.
Bucky turns to you with a mischievous grin and an outstretched hand, "would you like to dance, doll?", his tone mocks innocence and sincerity, enough so Sarah isn't suspicious of your secret rendezvous.
Your smile is equally as devilish, you take his hand, "Actually, I would"
He smirks as he leads you to the floor by the hand, its terribly intimate and the risk of being caught looms dangerously close, neither of your care. He spins and dips you, holding you close to him. You catch Sam's eye and he winks at you with a joking smile, you throw a thumbs up behind Bucky's back and smile.
"they're so clueless", you whisper into his ear, breath tickling his neck as you nibble at his earlobe.
"kitten", he growls, "stop that"
"you're so scary", you mock, but you stop nonetheless, parting from him and dragging him to the bar and then outside.
You hold your cigarette between your fingers and your glass is hanging lazy from your other grip. Bucky stands behind you, chin on your shoulder and arms iron-tight around your waist.
When you bring the smoke to your lips he allows you a long pull before taking it from you, placing it loosely between his oh-so-kissable lips.
He takes a drag for himself and then presses his lips to yours, sticky smoke fills your lungs and you smile, he pulls away and you blow a cloud in his face with a giggle.
Bucky and Steve are driving everyone home, their tolerance higher than everyone else's, and Sarah too tired to drive.
You rest your hand on Bucky's thigh as he pulls into your driveway, you're leaning on him as he walks you to your room. He's tucking you into bed and you're pulling him in next to you. He lays in your arms for a moment before he's making for the door. You let out a disappointed whine, but you stop at the click of a lock. You smile as he slips under the covers next to you. You press sweet kisses to his lips, tangled in each others arms.
He slips into the guest bedroom while you're still asleep. You and Sarah are the only two awake early the next morning, Steve already out for his run.
"god is real", you giggle into your coffee mug.
Sarah smiles back at you, she sees your stupid grin and blushing cheeks, "really?", she presses.
"he was sleeping in my bed night. God in jeans", you grin, sipping your strong coffee.
Steve comes in then, pouring himself a cup, you and Sarah stop talking.
"morning girls", you both mumble back a 'mornin'.
That afternoon, the five of you all gathered in the living room, Sarah excuses herself.
"I'm going out with Nate"
You all smile at her and wish get goodbye. Then you turn to your parents confused. Your head is resting on the armrest while your legs are thrown over Bucky's lap.
"who the fuck is Nate?", you question.
"language", Steve mumbles, not looking up from his fresh sketchbook.
"Nate is her boyfriend", Sam explains, you smile knowingly, shooting Bucky a discreet wink.
The day passes lazily, and soon you and Steve are the only ones awake. You stroll into the living room where he is sat, reading some old book.
"Sarah not home yet?", you ask as you make yourself comfortable in the armchair.
"no, not yet?"
It's already late, and so you turn to him. "why dont you go to bed, I'll wait up for Sarah"
"no it's okay, I'll stay up, why dont you get some sleep"
"I'll keep you company"
Its oddly comfortable, the two of you cozy in armchairs and warm lighting. You're curled up in a blanket, typing away on your laptop, Steve sprawled out across the room with his book.
The night rolls on and you both grow more worried.
"should we call the police?", he says, his back is straight, he's anxious.
"no", you say softly.
"arent the first 24 hours the most crucial in missing persons cases?", he stresses.
"that's missing children, Dad. She's almost nineteen", you both pause, that's the first time you've called him Dad since you turned 16. "if she's not hone by morning we'll call the police, and then we'll round up a gang and go looking"
You shut your laptop and settle next to him, you throw you arm over his broad shoulders and comfort him. Eventually the two of you fall asleep.
You're startled awake he next morning by the sound of the door opening, you both scramble up, expecting Sarah. Instead you find Sam and Bucky.
"is Sarah home?", you question, still groggy. Bucky smiles at your sleepy form.
But Sam looks worried, "I dont know, why?"
You shoot Steve an anxious look and bolt up the stairs, you find her bedroom empty, and jump back down the stairs. "she didnt come home last night"
At that moment, Sarah bustles in. Her makeup is smudged and her clothes wrinkled, dark circles prominent under her eyes. You and Steve's demeanors immediately change to angry and defensive.
"where we're you?", you say simultaneously.
"out with Nate, I told you"
You and Steve glance at each other before he's ordering Sarah into the kitchen. You follow after Steve, Sam leads Bucky away into the living room, distracting him.
You have always been able to tell you were Steve's daughter. You both tower over Sarah as she rubs her temple. You hold yourselves with the same power, the same dominance. Bucky and Sam watch discreetly from the hall, and Bucky cant deny the similarities.
When you talk you use the same rough tone, "where the fuck were you?", "what were you thinking?", "we were gonna call the cops, do you know how worried we were?". Its biting and cold, you're both furious.
"you would never do this if Y/N disappeared for a night", she snaps. You both freeze, Steve straightens up, you're shocked into silence.
"Y/N knows how to hold her own. Y/N is an adult, I trust Y/N to ge safe, and to keep herself safe incase anything were to happen", he states, tone unnervingly even and monotone.
"I'm an adult too", she whines.
"You're not even nineteen, Sarah", you snap. "We still have to order you coke and chips whenever we go out, you may be a legal adult but you sure as hell don't act like one"
At that Sarah storms up the stairs and slams her door. You and Steve sigh as Bucky and Sam amble into the kitchen. Steve pours everyone a cup of coffee, you all sit in comfortable silence.
"Hey, what if we all go up to the lake, its perfect this time round, I'm sure we can all fit in the cabin", Steve says after a while. You all nod in agreement, Sam starts up the stairs to tell Sarah.
"wha'd'ya think, Y/N?", Steve smiles, all of a sudden shy. He's not used to being so soft with you, the two of you hadn't properly gotten along since you were 14, and here you were, together, close.
"I'll start packing", you smile.
@vicmc624 @adriannajackson @zizzlekwum @chipilerendi @madaroni37
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Note
hiii 🥺
school started around a month ago for me and its been stressful so may i ask for some comfort headcanons of the rfa + v, saeran and rika and how theyd comfort a reader who is struggling with adhd/add and feels useless because they cant get anything done and keep getting distracted bdkdjhdjevejjdheue
Ahh I got chu, it happens to me all the time with literally e v e r y t h i n g
AND can I just say I luv how we included Rika in here :3 I absolutely love writing her character when she's actually mentally and emotionally stable, she would be one heck of a partner 😆
RFA+minor duo+Rika comforting a stressed reader (Part 1!) I'll post the other parts soon!
Zen:
The two of you had been fairly busy with work and school, only having dinner time to spend together. Still, Zen didn't fail to notice that you seemed to be feeling a lot more down lately.
He tried asking about how your schoolwork was going, to see if you wanted any help, but you just quietly mumbled a no and changed the subject.
Zen couldn't help the frown that appeared on his face, but he decided to not say anything until you were ready to talk. He still made sure you were taking care of yourself though, and tried to help you with any chores around the house.
Eventually one night, he was on the couch, trying to memorize a few of his lines, until you came in the room quietly and straddled him, hugging him tightly.
"Y/N? Is everything alright?" He asked, his tone worried, and you only sighed, tightening your grip on his neck.
"I can't focus on school. I keep trying to do my work but I just...I can't. And the project is due in a few days and I haven't even started. Zenny...I don't know what to do." You sobbed and Zen felt his heart clench. He pulled you away gently and held your face, caressing your cheek.
"It's alright. I'm glad you asked me for help. I know how hard school can be sometimes, how stressful it is, but I want you to know that you can always ask for my help alright? Now why don't we go and try to work on that assignment of yours, I'll be more than happy to help you."
You smiled. "Really Zen? Thank you. I love you."
He chuckled and kissed your nose before standing up and carrying you towards your bedroom princess style. He tried his best to answer any questions you had, but it turned out he didn't really know about the subject and you had to call the RFA for help, BUT you managed to finish the work in time and got a pretty good grade! Zen spun you around in circles when you told him, and then he kissed you to congratulate you!
Yoosung:
Oh the stress it is to be a college student. Especially if your partner is a college student too, and the two of you always get distracted by one thing or another.
Yoosung and you had been together for a while, and you managed to make him want to change, to become a better person. He started doing his assignments in time, and stopped playing as much LOLOL. For him homework seemed to be easy as heck.
For you though? You wanted to throw yourself out the window. Everytime you sat down to do your work, you suddenly got this urge to read, or use or phone, or paint or even learn how to play the cello for some reason. You seemed to want to do anything else but homework, and so, your once messy house suddenly became spotless. You had been cleaning for hours, everytime you finished something exclaiming that oh, the kitchen is actually pretty dirty, or the floor could use some vacuuming.
Yoosung had been a bit stressed from his work to notice at first, but at one point he looked up from the table to see you furiously mopping the floor for the 5th time that day. He wouldn't have thought anything of it except that, you had an expression of anxiety and stress on your face, and he also knew you absolutely hated cleaning, so clearly something was wrong.
He stood up and gently took the mop from you. "MC? Are you alright?"
You slowly looked up at Yoosung and let out a forced chuckle. "Of course I am! Why wouldn't I be?"
Your boyfriend raised an eyebrow and looked around the house. "You're cleaning."
"So? It was getting dirty and I-"
"MC you hate cleaning. C'mon, what's going on? You can talk to me!" He had a determined look on his face and you felt yourself smile as you saw how adorable he looked. But then once you remembered why you were cleaning in the first place, your smile faded and you sighed.
"I'm just....I haven't been doing any work for school. Whenever I try to, my mind suddenly wants to do another completely different task, I just can't focus on anything and that is only making me feel worse because I know that the work is due soon, but I still haven't done anything and it just- it makes me feel so bad and stressed so now I'm just panicking about everything!" You started pacing around the room quickly, speaking faster and faster. You kept doing it until Yoosung get to grabbed you by the shoulders.
"Whoa whoa, alright let's just calm down, just take a deep breath alright? Breathe in, and breathe out, we can't solve anything if you're panicking....are you feeling better now?"
After you did what Yoosung had told you, you slowly looked up at him and nodded. He gave you a reassuring smile.
"Good! It's normal for you to feel stressed like that...I understand, I've been in your position far too many times to count. In fact, if I had a dollar for every time that's happened to me then I'd be richer than Jumin"
You giggled and Yoosung chuckled. "Anyway the thing is, next time this happens please tell me, alright? If you ever feel stressed or anxious, just know that I'm here for you. You're an amazing person, you're so smart and beautiful, this is just a little bump on the road. Now, why don't we go and start working on your project hmm? I promise I'll be there to help you, and make sure you're working of course!"
You hesitantly nodded, still a bit nervous about the work, but once you started, you began to feel a bit more confident. Yoosung was there, every now and then letting out some cheers and just helping you on any questions you had.
Thankfully you managed to finish your work in time, and once you were done Yoosung rewarded you by giving you a free cuddle session!
Jaehee:
That woman knew what was going on before you could say anything. She was all too familiar with the look of stress and anxiety from having far so much work.
You were in the kitchen, baking brownies and cookies non-stop. She knew it was something you normally did whenever you were stressed, so she placed her hand on top of yours and said. "MC? Is everything alright?"
You immediately stood up straighter and nervously looked at her. Then, you bit your lip, knowing you couldn't really lie to her. "Uhm....I'm...I'm really not. School has really been taking a toll on me, and I can't seem to do any work. Jaehee I...I feel so useless right now..." You tried your best to breathe and to not break down in from of Jaehee, who was now holding your hand tightly.
"I see....is it about that big project you had been talking about last week? I can help you, if you want....listen to me MC." She gently raised your chin and smiled. "You're an amazing person, don't ever say that you're useless ever again. You're the very opposite of that in fact, you're so important to me and the RFA, I honestly don't know where we would be if it weren't for you. You're a very smart and capable person, and I'm sure soon enough you'll have all of this figured out. Why don't you start working on the project while I clean up over here, and then I can help you with anything you need, is that alright?"
You nodded and Jaehee gently led you to the kitchen table and helped you get your computer. Whenever you'd feel down of unmotivated Jaehee would grab your hand and squeezed it, then she'd help you with anything you were having trouble with and honestly? Jaehee was an amazing teacher, and soon enough you managed to get back on your feet.
Once you were done, the two of you made a victory night! You both baked together and watched musicals and danced around the room. Jaehee also made you some very delicious brownies when you got back your final grade, since you nailed it!
Jumin:
Jumin had just finished signing the last of his documents, and he leaned back in his chair. Ever since you moved in to the penthouse he started working a bit more from home. Of course there'd be days where he'd go, but once in a while he took a few breaks (this man also needs to rest once in a while)
Which is why, he had noticed that lately you had been feeling pretty down. School had just started, and Jumin could tell you were a bit stressed, and super anxious about school.
He was thinking of ways to help you, when suddenly he heard a knock on the door. He looked up to see you opening it a little and looking around, as if asking for permission to come in. He nodded and you quickly walked over to him, straddling his lap.
"Is everything alright love?" He asked, as you ran your hands through his hair.
"Yeah everything is fine. It's great. Really nice. Yup."
He raised and eyebrow and pulled you away so you could look at him better. He looked up at you, and you tried to look anywhere else that wasn't him.
"MC...." He caressed your cheek and glanced at you with a worried expression. "...There's something bothering you, isn't there? Why don't you tell me, and I promise I will try my best to fix it. It pains me to see you like this."
You sighed and slowly looked up at him, biting your lip.
"Well...." You sighed. "I.... I really don't deserve you Jumin...you're so...do amazing and incredible and I'm just...I'm so useless. I can't even do my school work right...." You ducked your head and looked at the ground, feeling ashamed.
Jumin gently lifted your chin and held you tight. "MC....you...how could you say that?" You looked at him in surprise and he only shook his head, and then leaned his forehead against yours. "You are the most intelligent and beautiful person I have ever met. It's so amazing that I get to be with someone as extraordinary as you. MC, you are not useless. Not at all. You are a very capable person, and you never give up, no matter what. School may be really hard right now, but I promise that you will get through it, and I'll be beside you the whole time if you need someone to lean on." He softly kissed you and you immediately felt a load of your back disappear. Itfelt so good to finally tell Jumin how you felt.
"Jumin...." You whispered against his lips, and he smiled.
"My love....everything will be alright, and if you need my assistance please don't be scared to ask. I'd be more that happy to help you."
Yoy wrapped your arms around his neck and smiled. "Oh Jumin! You are so adorable, I feel like my heart will explode from how much I love you! I'll take you up on that offer!"
"But of course my services don't come for free..." He smiled and you chuckled, shaking your head.
"Fair enough, what would you want in exchange?"
He pulled you tighter against his body and whispered in your ear. "I want to stay like this a little longer. Let me hold you for a while."
You blushed and then the two of you pulled away to kiss.
After a while, finally the two of you got down to business to defeat the awful project your teacher had assigned.
You had to admit it was a bit hard, since everytime Jumin would explain something to you you'd suddenly get distracted by how handsome he looked, and you'd pull him in for a kiss in the middle of an explanation.
Somehow you were able to finish the project and you got a good grade! When you try Jumin he picked.you up and spun you around, kissing you passionately. Then he'd smirk and grab you by the hand. "You deserve a prize after all your hard work."
And then he'd lead you to your room and the two of you would cuddle close in bed, the covers around you.
And you'd watch cat videos because thou shall not sin in this house.
(I'm just kidding you totally banged afterwards.)
For Saeyoung I already made a lil one shot with the same situation jsjsjsjs so I'll link it here! For the other characters they'll be posted soon since I don't want the post to be so long sjdjdbdbd
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miridiums-writing · 4 years
Text
Dabis redemption
Sorry this is very ooc, but im a stickler for fluff and haply endings. This is my first story with dialog so I hope it flows well.
Also sorry for any spelling mistakes, im doing this on my phone
I kept the reader without a specific gender because I wanted to be inclusive
Dabi watched the hero from afar. The up and coming pro hero BUTTERFLY. Their quirk was a rather unusual one, it allowed the user to turn parts of their body into butterflies, causing that part of their body to vanish. Often using the fact the can be controlled separately to an advantage by either saving groups of people, or attacking in a formation.
To say Dabi was hooked on how good they looked in the hero suit saving the day was an understatement. Dabi honestly felt head over heels in love with them. Dabi remembers all the key moments in their relationship. The day they met they had saved him from the fire HE CAUSED. He though they were mad, he genuinely laughed at their naivety. They met up often after that. Dabi still pretending to be a civillian. After they started dating he revealed everything. Including the fact that this relationship really changed something in Dabi's heart.
He knew their relationship was unorthodox. A hero and a villian was hardly a match. But the more they hung out, the more Dabi wanted to become a hero again. To save people for real. Screw his idols that hurt him. His y/n would be his idol. So now to comence with the plan
Operations become a hero is a go.
The idea was simple enough. Make the league believe he was getting information about the whereabouts of the students from you. In actuality you would not be harmed in anyway and would be sending the league to a group of hero's you had previously called.
Dabi had even been given his own microphone to contact them with
Everything was in place and there was no way any of the league could know of his changing side.
Dabi was tying you up in ropes as gently as possible, although he knew the scars and burns were fake, he hated to see them on you.
It was the work of two UA students with interesting quirks. One made you appear extremely beat up, and the other stopped other peoples quirks having an effect on you.
Just then you both heard the door of the building open.
This is were the show would begin.
"Come one, just tell me where he is, or ill burn you again!" Dabi shouted as small flames danced in his hands. You whimper and flinch away as the league enters the room.
For what feels like hours Dabi interrogated you. He threatens with his fire and gets up in your face. Until finally you crack.
You start to blubber out about the position on Bakugou and the other students, and about other fake information as you give in to defeat and beg for mercy.
After a short congregation the league decides that now was the perfect time, with all of them together it shouldn't be hard.
After the others had left the room Dabi came up to you and untied your wrists. He kisses your forehead and cheeks, chanting that hes sorry and he didnt mean any of it.
He worried he had really hurt you, but those worries seem to melt away after you looked up. You whole being seemed to shine and you gave him a grin, the grin that made him fall for you
"I think we tricked them good"
------------------ 6 months later ---------------
Dabi was in need of a hero.
It all started after the downfall of the league. He came out as a hero and started to work along side (y/n) as a side kick. The only thing wrong was the public. Almost no one believed his redemption which made him insecure.
He was so desperate that turned to Hawks for advise. Which lead him to where he was now.
In a room full of kids, all angry and curious about his piercings and scars. He tried to tell them he wasn't comfortable telling them but they didnt listen. He was at his wits end trying to get them to listen
Just when he lost all hope, his hero arrived.
They came in the room in all their glory, quickly calming down the kids and sat them in a circle.
They then gripped the kids with mad story. Filled with a damsel in distress, princes, knights in shining armour, a witch and a dragon.
They told a story of a great hero who conquered all odds, defeated a dragon and was left with burns from the fight. They painted a picture of this hero in the cnildrens heads and then turned to Dabi.
"Guess the name of the hero" they said.
All the kids started calling our their favourite heroes but (y/n) shook their head to them all.
"Wrong, the heroes name was Dabi and I was the person he saved"
Each of the kids heads turned to Dabi in awe. All amazed that he had defeated those odds.
The rest of the day was spent playing hero. (Y/n) pretending to be in need of saving, a whole horde of kids and one Dabi coming to save them.
When it was time for them to leave everyone was disappointed. Though the kids were on the verge of falling asleep anyway.
Just as Dabi and (y/n) were leaving, one kid walked up to them.
He was small, with spiky hair and looked a little uncomfortable in his own skin. He then look Dabi in the eye as he raised his shirt.
Covering his abdomen was a burn, it wrapped around his stomach and onto his back in some places.
"I just wanted to say you've been my favourite hero for 4 months now." He grins as he lets his shirt fall " I cant wait to grow up and be like you"
The kid then walks off to the others and lays down to sleep.
But the effect of the kids words was great on Dabi. He was frozed in place. (Y/n) then began to wave a hand in front of his face to get his attention. He slowly turned towards them
Dabi was crying. Tears streamed down his face as he looks at (y/n) in awe
"I've been his favourite since the start, someone believes in me"
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abreathofthewild · 4 years
Text
Morning Showers
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Synopsis: You and Thor enjoy a morning shower together.
Words: 2269 or roundabouts
Rating/Warnings: M for mature, SMUT.  Filthy by my standards?  All below the cut.
About: Firstly, don’t @ me.  Man, I Feel Like A Woman! and Breathe are two of the best.  Secondly, I want to thank @spacelabrathor​ for giving me the go-ahead on Cowboy Thor.  Thirdly, I want to thank @peachyteabuck​ for giving me this specific idea.  I wanted to inspire myself to get writing on the actual Cowboy Thor story, I Need A Hero, and thought this might do the trick.  Went from 0 to 100 real quick, my first time writing smut so be kind.  And fourthly, thank you to all the countless people ( @helahades​ I’m looking at you) that have been so supportive and so hype about this story.  Hope this little snapshot does it for you until the full thing comes out!
“Mm, gotta get up now.  ‘s 5:45.  Gotta feed the chickens or they’ll riot.”  Your voice is muffled as you speak into Thor’s shoulder.  There have been quite a few things you’ve learned about him since that first kiss.  Like how he loves to give hugs from behind whenever the two of you are in the kitchen.  Or how he loves romanticizing the little things like having a good cup of coffee.  Or how he absolutely loves being the little spoon.  He loves being the big spoon too but he always gives a quiet hum of contentment whenever the two of you lay how you are now: him on his side, you right against his back.  Your legs are tangled; one arm is slung over his waist and the other is tucked up to his shoulder blades, your face resting somewhere near his neck.
“Fivemoreminutes,” he rumbles back and somehow the sound of his voice reverberating back to you sends chills from your head to your toes.  You wiggle your legs and then finally untangle them, trying to ignore how the wood floor is cold under your feet as you sit at the edge of the bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.  The sun peeks through the curtains fluttering in the early morning breeze creating a warm invitation to start your day.  Already the roosters are crowing outside and you can hear distant animal noises coming from the pasture.  It paints such a wonderful picture.  You feel like you’re the subject of some well-loved sketch, one not done by any famous artist but one that sits on a mantle and is passed down through families.  A picture that to most would look so normal but to you feels like you’re living for the first time.
“Okay, you take your five more minutes.  I for one, need to take a shower.”  You let the words hang in the air.  They are sort of an invitation.  But Thor continues to sleep, slow even breaths emanating from his chest.  Oh, well.  You flip on the switch in the bathroom and hook your phone up to the Bluetooth speaker there.  A small upgrade you had made fairly quickly was putting speakers in almost every room of the house.  You needed your music.
Today’s lineup starts with a song that could get anyone on the dance floor.  You think you remember the singer’s name being Shania Twain.  The music subscription you use has been suggesting a whole lot more country music as of late and you absolutely do not mind.  You brush your hair out as the water warms up; it sends out great puffs of steam that completely cloud out your reflection in the mirror.  You sing quietly along with the music.
Let's go girls, come on!  I'm going out tonight, I'm feelin' alright.  Gonna let it all hang out.
As soon as you step over the edge of the tub into the warm water, you feel instantly more awake.  The steady stream over your head, shoulders, and back is invigorating.  A list forms in your head as you lather the shampoo in your hair of the things the two of you need to get done today.  The thoughts lining up in your brain are completely different than the words tumbling out of your mouth.
“Oh, oh, oh, I want to be free yeah, to feel the way I feel.  Man! I feel like a woman!”  You’re so caught up in the moment that you don’t hear Thor enter the bathroom, don’t hear his sweatpants hit the floor next to your pajama shorts and tank top.  It isn’t until you hear the deep timbre of his voice join in on the lyrics that you realize he’s in the same room.  You clap a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from giggling.  There is something so cute about the juxtaposition of this cowboy, this man singing along with the song.   A huge grin forms itself on your face as you part the shower curtain enough to look out at him.  He’s standing at the sink stark naked brushing his teeth.  You let your eyes wander over every part of him unashamedly. 
“See somethin’ you like darlin’?”  The implication there makes heat pool low in your belly as you nod.  You silently hold out your hand and feel fire leap through your veins when he grins and steps forward.  The shower is small and he is big but when he steps into the space with you, it makes the size differences even more obvious.  His shoulders, his chest, the sheer size of him makes it difficult to breathe.  You look up at him through water studded lashes as he gently slicks the hair back from your face.  An entirely new song has started playing and it brings a slow smile across your face.
I watch the sunlight dance across your face and I’ve never been this swept away…
I watch the sunlight dance across your face and I’ve never been this swept away…
“Figured I should probably get up too.  Don’t want to lose even five minutes with you.”  Your heart is thumping in your chest as the rising sun catches the frosted glass above the shower just right, setting his blue eyes in soft light.  And yeah, you’ve never been so swept away.  There’s no to-do list running through your head anymore.  As far as you’re concerned, there’s nothing outside of this little space.  This moment in time here with him.  You stand up on your tiptoes and lean in, getting lost in the rush as your lips meet.  It’s a slip of tongues, soft and slow then deep and hot.  He smiles against your mouth.  “Good mornin’ to you too.”  Gooseflesh rises on your body as he walks forward into you, forward until your back is against the wall.
“Can’t be in here too long,” he continues as his mouth moves from your lips to your neck.  Your pulse is racing just underneath your skin and when he sucks hard there it draws a gasp from deep in your chest.  He hums against that point and it vibrates all the way through to your core.  He hasn’t shaved in a little while after you had mentioned recently that you liked the scruff and now you were so glad you had as he kisses a trail from your neck to your sternum to your breasts.  The rough scratch of his almost-beard is heaven.  It leaves your skin feeling raw but in the best sort of way.  He pauses for a moment, his hot breath skittering across your pebbled nipple and you look at him in feign frustration.  “Maybe, I shouldn’t,” he groans, tracing one with his fingers.  You brace your hands on his broad shoulders, your breathing coming fast and erratic from just this.  Is that even possible?  “What was it you said?”  One hand moves lower, stuttering across your wet skin, to grasp your hip.  “That’s right.  ‘The chickens will riot’.”  
'Cause I can feel you breathe.  It's washing over me.  And suddenly I'm melting into you...
You wrap your arms around his neck, fingers twining in his air, and buck your hips upward, slightly arching you back.  His cock is already hard and when it slips against your thigh, you feel it twitch and Thor lets out a small grunt.  Checkmate.
“The chickens can wait.”  The movement extracts another grunt as you take his cock in your hand and run a thumb across the tip; it’s already beaded with precum and you lick your lips.  That gets an immediate reaction from him as he gives in, leans in and takes a nipple in one mouth and grasps the other in his hand.  “Shiiiit,” you hiss as he continues until you’re shaking, every nerve ending sparking with lightning.
It’s no surprise that you’re slick at the center of you and when he drops to his knees kissing as he goes, your heart skips a couple beats.  He looks up at you and as difficult as it is to breathe, you feel emotion swell behind your ribcage.  There’s lust in his eyes, his pupils blown.  But there’s a connection there you’ve never felt with anyone before.  Just as quickly as the thought crosses your mind, it’s gone as he grips one hip in his hand slings the other leg over his shoulder.  
He leans in and traces slow circles around your clit with his tongue and if it weren’t for the fact that he was supporting you, your knee would have buckled.  You card your fingers through his hair as his tongue moves from your clit to the entrance of your cunt.  You whisper his name on a keen as he picks up the pace.  There’s a distant thought that none of the men you’ve been with before knew how to eat you out like this: like they were praying, like there was nowhere else they’d rather be than to have their face between your legs.  You cant your hips forward, your thighs shaking.  You know there’s going to be a burn from his five o’clock shadow but it will be worth it.  Just like the bruises that are going to form where his hands are holding tight.  The feeling swells and trips along your bones like a livewire.  You’re a gasping mess, your hands gripping his hair, pulling at it and when your climax rips through you he’s standing already, gently bracing your legs apart and sliding into you, the breath hissing from his lips.  
It still catches you by surprise, not just the size of him but how it feels to be filled by him.  A filthy moan spills from your lips.  You squeeze around him as he utters a single drawn-out fuck before he starts moving.  It’s slow, delicious friction as he ruts into you.  The slide of his cock in your cunt is like velvet and your only option is to hold on, your arms slung around his shoulders (barely).  He adjusts, lifting you so your legs wrap around him too and despite the water streaming off the both of you it’s like you weigh nothing and then he’s moving quicker, pistoning up and in and oh god, it’s like the world has shifted off its axis because he’s hitting that spot just right.
You can already feel the second orgasm spiraling up up up and when you feel it snap everything goes blinding white, sparks skipping across your vision.  It’s hard to tell whether you’re wet from the shower or wet from the mess you’ve made around his cock.  You’re clinging to him, a ragged cry ripping from your throat as your back is molded to the shower wall.  Thor’s still going, chasing his own release and you can tell it’s not far away because already his hips are snapping an irregular rhythm and his breathing is harsh and short.  When he cums, his mouth drops open and his hand smashes into the wall next to you.  He spills his seed inside of you, each jerk of his hips pressing another crashing gasp from your lungs even when you thought there was no more air left.  The last movement of his hips as he slips out of you leaves a trail of cum hot down your thigh.  You trail your finger through it and slide it into your mouth, tasting him.
The high is fading away but as soon as you do that, a flush creeps over his face and his eyes go wide.  His nostrils are flared.  He shuts the water off and opens the shower curtain, allowing you to step passed him.  You ignore the small ring of disappointment that flares through you as you grab a towel from its hook near the door.  He takes it from you though and pauses for a moment as you turn back to look at him.  The water droplets that are still caught in his hair drip from the curling ends and land on his shoulders and run little rivers down his chest.  He’s so close again.  The smell radiating off of him is intoxicating; the scent of warm wet skin fresh from the shower mixed with musk is so undeniably male it makes your mouth water.  He reaches out to cup your face, and you lean into it with a deep breath.
I can feel the magic floating in the air.  Being with you gets me that way.
“I don’t think you’ll be needin’ that just yet,” he says on a growl and you have about .5 seconds to acclimate as he lifts you with a wolfish smile.  You let your head loll back with a laugh as he sets you on the bed and climbs over you.  There’s that look again.  It makes an entirely new feeling break across your lungs, ballooning up and out.  Love.   “The chickens can wait.”  You nod quickly.
The chickens can definitely wait.
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thetorturerwrites · 4 years
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okay Melly-senpai hear me out... Dry humping a fully erect and tied-the-fuck-up Ben Solo to the point where his cock is straining the FUCK out of his pants yet he continues to be the victim of sexual torture to the nth degree OwO
Fae, my beautiful friend, this Ben is based entirely off of your On The Desk Ben; specifically, your most recent chapter. I do hope you like it.
***
“Don’t you have a girlfriend,” you clucked chidingly as you slid the cappuccino across the bar.
Ben Solo, manwhore extraordinaire, stretched across the shiny countertop and tugged on your green apron, pooling it so he could see into the gap and down your blouse.
“Not according to her,” he stroked the tip of his middle finger in a slow line down your cleavage.
“So, you think I’m gonna let you fuck me on a technicality?” 
You leaned out of his reach. Ben was liquid sex; and if you weren’t careful, you would absolutely find yourself bent over the new shipment of creamers while he plowed you into stupidity.
“You’re gonna let me fuck you,” he dipped his finger into the coffee and sucked it clean. “Because last time, we got interrupted right before you could beg for my cock.”
You flooded with embarrassed arousal. He wasn’t wrong. Your last encounter was interrupted, and he had spent an hour tasting and sucking on your pussy to the point where you were, in fact, going to beg him to fuck you.
“Ok, Ben.” An idea sparked in your brain, and you chewed your cheek, working it out. “8 o’clock. My place.”
Ben was late. Of course.
“Hey babe, you ready for m--wha-hat the fuck,” he gaped, mouth slack and eyes round.
You’d answered the door in pink lace boy shorts and the tiniest shirt you could find. It cut off just beneath your breasts, drawing his attention. Crowding in, he walked you backwards and slammed the door shut with a kick.
Ben pushed you up against the wall and crashed his mouth to yours, swallowing your surprised squeak. He slid a thick thigh between your legs, pinning you so his hands could wander, fingers grazing your hard nipples. You mewled into his hungry mouth, canting your head to deepen the kiss.
Remembering your plan, you bunched twitching fingers into his coat and pushed at his chest, trying to wiggle away.
“Gonna be a tease tonight? Hm?”
“Shut up.” You ducked out of his embrace. “You were late. Upstairs. Bed. Now.”
His breath caught, the authority in your voice burgeoning a fresh shade of lust across his cheeks. He stepped towards you, clenching his hands impatiently. 
“Yeah? Planning to punish me for it?” He advanced on you, but you dodged again, lifting your chin at the stairs.
“Only one way to find out.”
Ben stretched out in the center of your bed, clad only in those sexy tight pants. He palmed himself through the painted-on jeans, crooking his finger to beckon you in. He was infuriatingly beautiful, all hard lines and muscle.
“Turn around.” You swallowed nerves and twirled your finger, patting the foot of the bed.
“Oh, fuck yeah.” He eagerly complied, reaching out for your hips and drawing you towards his face.
You gave yourself a minute to enjoy it, the slide of his huge hands against your calves, thighs, and hips. He gave your ass a loud slap, ruining your reverie, and you shoved his hands away, reaching under the mattress for the hidden, heavy strap. You buckled him in, first right hand, then left.
You hummed delightedly at the sight, your weight dipping the bed down as you settled right on his confined, straining cock. He grunted, yanking on the restraints that kept his arms and grabby hands at bay.
“You are a fucking tease.”
Ignoring him, you rocked your hips, grinding and riding, relishing the way his teeth clenched and his shoulders lifted. His lust-ridden eyes dropped to your chest, and you bounced ever so slightly, making them jiggle the way he liked. He growled demandingly and pushed up into you.
Your hips danced, sliding your slick seam against the one in his jeans. You purred because it was just enough drag, just enough of a ridge to tantalize. He stuttered out curses when you gripped the waistband of his jeans and used them as a handle for better friction. The slippery head of his cock just nudging your fingertips with his every ineffective thrust.
“If you don’t get on my dick...” He jolted upwards as though he could work the button and zipper free by virtue of his hips alone.
“You’ll what?” You snapped and stopped moving completely, scowling at him. “Run and tell your girlfriend?”
“Shit fuck,” he croaked and nudged at your back with his knees, trying to get back what his mouth had cost him. “You have to move. Baby, you...have to...GODDAMMIT!” 
He jerked against the bonds, but you were already off of him, crouched down, plundering beneath your bed for something. His pleas turned to threats and then to outright objections when he saw it.
“NO FUCKING WAY!”
He fought, twisting his head away and roaring, but you caught him, snatched him up by the damp hair at his nape, and wrestled him into the sadistic accessory.
“You talk too much.” You patted the cheek of the fitted face guard. 
Ben, notorious bachelor and all-around slut, was tied to your bed, muzzled and glaring at you like you murdered his family. His hips gave away his desire, jerking and bucking. You traced the outline of his impressive cock and the little wet spot seeping through the fabric.
“Much better.” You crawled back onto the bed, settling your knees on either side of his neck.
He groaned into your leg so loud you felt the vibration through the hard plastic face mask. Cinching fingers into his ebony hair, you turned his cheeks upright and spread your knees apart, sinking your lacy cunt down onto the cover.
“What was that?” You wiggled your hips to jostle his face. “Didn’t quite hear you.”
For a second, you thought he wouldn’t play your game. He kicked at the headboard and thrashed; but then, it came. He looked up the length of your flushing body and moaned again, ragged and needy,the muzzle tickling your pussy and clit. 
“That’s it.” You gasped, encouraging him to keep going every time he’d growl, speak, or moan.
You dipped your fingers into your panties, and Ben barked out muffled curses, stomping on the mattress and trying to throw you off balance. Squeezing your thighs tighter, you let his tirade resonate against your opening while you rubbed fast circles into your clit.
When his tantrum stopped, you eased back and gazed at him. You’d reduced him to little more than a mannequin, desperate, red, and sweaty. His hazel eyes were round and glossy, lovely in their mindlessness. 
“Want me to fuck you now, baby?” You were breathless, skirting the orgasm.
His hands tightened into fists, he closed his eyes, thankful you were finally going to cater to him, and moaned again.  His eager nod lifted a smirk to your lips. You slid from the bed in one fluid motion, and Ben’s body turned toward you, straining to be closer. 
“You’re not gonna like this.” You whispered against the shell of his ear, brandishing your last weapon of the night.
Laying eyes on the thing in your hands, he howled and twisted, flopping like a fish out of water, but you were too quick. In a hot minute, you had him pinned and buckled into the taunting contraption. 
It was heartless and cruel, but that’s what made it so, so right. He deserved every tormenting moment of his comeuppance.
“Pretty as a picture.” 
Phone in hand, you snapped a quick series of photos. The sight of Ben Solo, trussed up, tied down, and sporting your favorite purple harness with its big, black strap-on dick over his pants was just too fucking good.
Stripping quickly, you re-mounted the broken stallion, mimicking that prick wink he always gave you. He grunted and turned his head away, looking 10 different shades of angry and ashamed.
“I told you that you could fuck me, Ben.” You shifted, lined up the latex, and sunk down on it with a hiss. “But I never said how.”
Your lips quivered, framing a moan and a curse. This one was your favorite because it was thick, long, and curved just the right way. You braced yourself against Ben’s chest, digging your fingers into the taut muscles as you wiggled through the burn and stretch.
The sounds coming from inside the facial cage were delicious, a mix of moaning and words you pretended were pleas.  They spurred you into a quick, rough pace. Brazen, drunk on this obscene control, you bounced and shook, jarring the entire bed with your debauched ride.
“Shitshitshit.” It tumbled from your mouth each time your hips would connect with his, the slam of your ass connecting with the tilt of his pelvis.
The latex was shiny with your slick now, the plunge of it easy. He fucked at you, hips on auto pilot. He watched the false cock disappear into your body, having unraveled into a mess of leaking eyes, twitching dick, whimpers, and wretched gasps. 
What he wanted was so close, your hot pussy right there, but you’d stuffed it with something else, and all he could do was watch.
“How's it feel to be someone's fuck doll, Ben?” 
He snorted, and you grinned, sitting up fully on the black monster, breath catching at the wicked fullness. One quaking hand rubbed your clit, and one clutched at a swollen, stiff-peaked breast. Ben's eyes locked on your face, and you never felt so powerful in your entire fucking life. 
Your hips rolled, nudging the latex cock right against that spot that made you see stars. Faster and faster, you ground against it, against Ben’s backboard of a body, and furiously rubbed your clit until your toes tingled. 
Ben rocked himself up into you, lifting up to bury the dildo in your cunt with a deep, cooperative pace. You shouted as the orgasm bloomed at the very end of that monster cock, surged out from between your labia, and sizzled up through your clit, thighs, and everything else.
"Fuck!" 
You purred and pressed your chest against his, sated and incredibly pleased with yourself. Hips still lifting, still dancing, you pondered another round because that was a nice appetizer of an orgasm. 
Thinking Ben might truly execute you if you didn’t let him up, you kissed the muzzle, murmuring a soft ‘good boy’ against it, and lifted yourself up with a vulgar shuck. 
“Well, this was fun.” You chuckled at how closely he was watching you, working first to unbuckle the harness. “Tell your girl I said hi.”
Free of the wrist restraints, Ben shot up, grabbed you by the neck, and the rest was a blur.
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transvision-glam · 4 years
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tell us about jet star and mad gears skayes
JAM you’re a saint.
okay so this is like the one concrete headcanon i have for danger days everytuing else is nebulous but this is forever: roller skates
Jet star has a moxie skate equivalent, so suede and deep red and she’s painted a moon and star on the ankles. she has big outdoor wheels, because although she does skate indoors, usually they’re for making a quick escape. she can’t do anything but skate in a circle and maybe pivot turn tho.
mad gear has derby skates. for derby. small hard wheels and a decent sized toestop bc they like going fast but have to have enough security to be able to stop on a dime. hes also spent enough time with show pony to know how to spin and skate backwards. hes named his skates eustace and theyre orange.
party poison cannot skate they have tried and fallen too many times their ego is bruised
fun ghoul has black derby skates with like clear glittery green wheels. ze likes going really really fasf and running into people or walls zir toestops look pristine bc zes never tried to stop with them. is desperately trying to join a derby team. has not found one that accepts zonerats who can Only Go Forward Very Fast In A Straight Line. ze refuses to learn anything else
kobra kid is a decent skater, started by trying to learn from show pony instead of just taking off. it is his greatest struggle that his hip flexors dont quite stretch enough so he cant do transitions. however he does go to every single roller disco night and try to learn one (1) dance. his skates are a nice sky blue leather boot and his wheels are yellow, and he is the only ond that cleans out his bearings and bugs the others when their skates get rattly snd they get stubborn about not wanting to pull out the toolbox and just tighten the wheels
and cherri is like a wobbly deer on skates he only borrows them from other people and only when kobra drags him to an event. literally drags him often bc he doesnt trust himself enough to pick up one of his feet. once locked his knees for so long he passed out and nearly got run over by ghoul
yeah! thanks to the discord for listening to this earlierrrrr
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maleficarfic · 3 years
Text
Of Unicorns, Virgins, and Other Such Things
Pairing: Female Lavellan/Solas
Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Rating: Explicit
Additional Tags: Only partially crack
Summary: A noble attempting to curry favor with the Inquisition gives Inquisitor Lavellan a unicorn. It gets in the way. A lot.
On AO3: Link
“But what is it?” the Inquisitor asked, ears flicking with annoyance as she peered at the massive white beast stomping around her courtyard, nickering nastily at everyone who wasn’t Cole. It was quite pretty, with a flowing mane and tail that shimmered like starlight. Its hooves and horn glimmered gold in the brilliant light of early afternoon.
“A gift,” Josephine said, a bit too cheerfully. “From a noble who seeks to curry your favor. It is a rare, almost mythical unicorn.”
The Inquisitor peered at it. “It doesn’t have a sword through its face like the other one.”
“Because this is a natural unicorn,” Josephine said with infinite patience.
The Inquisitor’s right ear twitched, her expression flattening. “You said mythical.”
“I said almost mythical.”
“And this from you,” Varric interjected, leaning against a wooden post and giving the Inquisitor one of those shit-eating grins. Her ears twitched again. “The woman who does at least ten impossible things before breakfast.”
She pulled her lips back and gave him a snarl. Any normal person would have seen that expression and pissed themselves, but Varric just laughed like this was all good fun. It was infuriating how she was supposed to be the most deadly person in Thedas – though, probably, the Hero of Ferelden was more so – but none of her companions seemed to treat her with the respect deadly people deserved. Actually, now that she thought about it, no one did. It was always Inquisitor, fetch this thing or Inquisitor, take this other thing to the place with the people or even Inquisitor, my wife is dying and my son knows how to cure her so please go to him but, oh, no, he won’t come back with the potion or even given you the recipe he’ll just give you the potion to bring back to me necessitating you making future trips to bolster the Inquisition’s reputation. Not that she had strong feelings about this.
“Also this unicorn is not dead.”
“Fluffy,” the Inquisitor said with sharp enunciating, “is not dead. She is respirationally challenged. More importantly, why doesn’t this one like anyone except Cole?”
Solas, who had been hovering at the edge of the courtyard with a studious expression on his face, swung toward her at the question. “Lore surrounding unicorns posits they prefer the company of virgins and will defend a virgin quite violently.”
The Inquisitor went still. Her mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. “Oh,” she finally managed.
“Indeed.” Solas slipped closer to her. “Given the unicorn’s nature, it might be best to have—”
He broke off as the unicorn, with a whiny loud enough to burst eardrums, rounded on them and charged. He threw himself to the side, snapping a barrier into place around himself, Josie, the Inquisitor, and Varric, and stumbled. He righted himself only with Josie’s help.
“Oh,” the Inquisitor said as the unicorn paced in a circle around her. She felt heat rising to her cheeks. It wasn’t that she was ashamed of being a virgin. That didn’t bother her at all. It was just that a four-legged beast with a spike growing out its head was telling everyone in Skyhold that she’d never gotten laid.
Twenty-four years old, leading one of the most powerful political forces in the world, surrounded by men and women who pretty much oozed sex appeal, and she’d never had sex.
This was her life.
She dragged a hand down her face as Varric made a noise of pure delight. “Inquisitor, he seems to like you.”
“I’m going to kill you,” she muttered.
The unicorn’s muzzle rubbed against her face. It lipped her ear. With a shriek, she bolted away from it.
“He really seems to like you!” Varric called after her as she tore across the courtyard, the unicorn prancing happily after her.
She tried hiding in the great hall. She tried hiding in the tavern. She climbed the ladder to Cullen’s Blighted bedroom and crawled under his bed – much to his sputtering horror – and the damn thing somehow managed to follow her everywhere. When she decided to go out on missions, it was waiting in the stables, somehow saddled, looking at her with huge, watery eyes that seemed to say Ride me, beautiful virgin, and she’d go red to her ears.
Passing judgments was next to impossible. The Tevinter shem who had led the Wardens astray had taken one look at the unicorn standing proudly beside her throne and dissolved into giggles. Ser Ruth, who had turned herself in around the same time the Tevinter mage was brought before her, took one look at the unicorn and started choking. Ostensibly on laughter, but the Inquisitor hoped the woman swallowed her tongue.
“You can’t follow me everywhere,” she told the damn beast as it followed her across one of the ramparts. She and Cole kept putting him in the stables. He kept escaping. Somehow.
Vivienne thought he was possessed, and Bull tended to agree, but everything was demons and despair with those two anyway.
“You need to let me do my job.” He stared at her with watery eyes. She attempted to remain unmoved. “You need a name, too.”
He pranced, hopping from hoof to hoof as if he understood. In the back of her head, she heard Solas intoning, Unicorns are widely believed to be incredibly intelligent creatures. Do your best to be polite. That horn isn’t for show.
“Pokey?” she suggested.
The unicorn gave her a look that pretty clearly said, You’re shitting me.
“Fine, fair, I agree, it was a bad idea.” She was bad at naming things, though. The other day, she’d scraped together enough lambswool to make a new set of robes for Solas, and when asked by Dagna and Harritt to give the coat some kind of identifier, she’d just said, “Sheep’s Clothing.” They’d looked at her like she’d grown two heads before declaring it Resisting Magical Something or Another.
She had told Solas about the incident. He hadn’t approved, though she couldn’t fathom why.
Tugging on one of her braids, she gave the unicorn an assessing look. “You kind of look like a Bob to me.”
He blinked at her and that blink somehow managed to convey his dripping disdain.
“Not Pokey. Not Bob.” She chewed on her lower lip, and the unicorn made a sound that might have been horsey delight. It disturbed her. Deeply. She stopped chewing on her lip. “We could go with something noble. Charger?” He shook his head. Or ruffled his mane. Or something. She took it to be a no. “Dasher? Dancer? Prancer?” She paused. “Now that’s just ridiculous. You’re not making this easy, you know.”
He shuffled up to her and rubbed his nose against her shoulder. She, meanwhile, eyed the exceptionally sharp tip of his horn as it bobbed next to her face. Tentatively, she stroked the unicorn’s neck. “What about Hanal’ghilan? You’re not a halla, but it’s a noble name.”
He whickered and caught her ear with his lips. With an indignant shriek, she tore across the parapets.
In a rare moment of unicorn-free time later that afternoon, she slipped into Solas’s room to study the murals he was painting. And possibly to snuggle up to him and make him incredibly uncomfortable. There was something to be said for flustering him, and it was so delightfully easy that even a virgin could do it.
In her defense, she wasn’t much of a virgin. The unicorn might count her as one, but she’d done more than her fair share of playing poke and tickle with some of the other youths in her clan. She’d just never gone far enough to jeopardize her position.
“Solas,” she greeted cheerfully.
His head snapped up, his eyes darting all around her. Then he relaxed. “I see you’re without your stalwart protector.”
She slipped up to him. He wasn’t painting, was standing beside his table with a book in one hand. His fingers, long and lithe and delightfully wicked, were splayed across the pages of a book that lay open on the table before him.
Dancing her fingers up his tunic, she drew closer to him. “Stolen moments are so rare,” she purred, watching with delight as his eyes widened slightly.
“Inquisitor, I—”
“You?” she asked, rising onto her toes to brush her lips against his. It wasn’t even close to a kiss, but it was enough to get her a little tingly and a lot interested in actual kissing. She wanted real kisses, the fiery, passionate, he-shoves-his-hands-in-her-hair kinds of kisses. Kisses that involved tongue, but not Fade tongue. Fade tongue only got a girl so far.
He swallowed and made a strangled sort of noise in the back of his throat. “I don’t think…”
“Oh, but you do,” she murmured. “Entirely too much.” She canted her head to the side, sliding one arm about his neck. His book tumbled to the ground as his arm went around her waist, tugging her flush against him.
Their mouths were so close, his eyes so intent and filled with burning, desperate wanting.
From above them came a mighty crash.
“Confounded creature!” Dorian shouted. He followed that shout with many more, none of them understandable, all of them Tevene.
Solas all but shoved her away from him, throwing himself at the scaffolding to the side of the room as she heaved a heavy, beleaguered sigh and Hanal’ghilan tore into the room looking like a demon. He snorted, chest heaving, head lowered, and charged straight at Solas.
His horn missed Solas’s butt – and what a tight, sexy butt it was, she thought as he scrambled up the ladder – by inches.
Hanal’ghilan skidded to a stop between her and Solas, scratching the stone floor fiercely with his hooves. He huffed, dragging one hoof over the stone as if readying to charge, and she sighed heavily. “We need to discuss personal boundaries,” she said to him, patting him on the back.
It took her and Cole promising Hana’ghilan the best oats and a stupid amount of sugar cubes to get him to leave Solas’s rotunda. It took even longer to get the unicorn back to the stables, where the Inquisitor assured him up and down that she wouldn’t go anywhere near Solas ever again and he needn’t worry about her losing her virginity in the near to immediate future. He snorted, clearly not believing her, which was pretty much the right response because that night, Solas barged into her dreams with all the subtly of a charging druffalo.
He caught her face in his hands and kissed her, and she threw her arms around his neck, wrapping her legs around his waist and forcing him to hold her. They stumbled until her back pressed against a wall, and his tongue was in her mouth, tasting her, and it was so good.
Except for the part where it wasn’t real.
“I’m going to kill that creature,” Solas growled against her mouth, working his hands under her tunic to cup her breasts. That was also good. It was better than good. Heat lanced through her, and she dragged his mouth back to hers for more kisses.
She’d done a lot of kissing in twenty four years. Well, to be fair, it wasn’t as though she’d popped out of the womb and started kissing people. Maybe it was more like twelve years, unless she counted that time she kissed Theron when she was six. It hadn’t been a good kiss. She decided not to count it.
“I’m going to kill you,” she growled back, tugging at his clothes, wondering why he bothered with them in the Fade at all.
Probably because they never got much further than kissing shirtless. He always balked at that point.
“What have I done?” he asked as he caught her lower lip in his teeth, tugging gently.
She responded by grinding her hips against his, making him gasp with pleasure and shock and, really, he should be used to her doing this like this by now. “Nothing, hahren,” she replied in a throaty murmur, and he pressed closer to her, his eyes flickering with lust. “And that’s the problem.”
She heard something crash. It was a splintery sound. Rather like what wood might sound like when it shattered. She went stiff in his arms, and he noticed immediately. “Vhenan?” he asked, drawing his hands down her sides.
“Oh, by the Dread Wolf’s hairy ball—” The Fade dream fractured as a very large something pounded up her stairs and neighed loud enough to wake the dead. She bolted upright from her nest on the floor – she still wasn’t used to the concept of shem beds – and hurled her pillow at Hanal’ghilan’s face.
It hit his horn and stuck.
As he shook his head wildly, trying to dislodge the pillow, she threw another one. “It was a dream!” she shouted, hurling a third pillow. “It was just a dream, I was dreaming, and how did you even get in here?”
In the end, her pillow went flying off Hanal’ghilan’s horn and straight out her open window. It soared over her balcony and disappeared into the snowy mountains. Hanal’ghilan had the good sense to bow his head and give her those sad, watery eyes that were almost as guilt-inducing as puppy eyes.
“I’m still mad at you,” she groused as she patted a spot next to her pile of blankets. Hanal’ghilan happily settled there, and, after a moment, she dropped a pillow on his side and curled up against him. It wasn’t so different from sleeping with a halla.
The next morning, she stumbled into the tavern for breakfast with Hanal’ghilan on her heels, and Varric, who was always obscenely cheerful at all hours, saluted her with a mug of that wonderfully bitter, disgustingly perfect drink the shems called coffee. She made grabby hands at it and he surrendered it to her. “Looks like you’ve still got your unicorn chastity belt,” he said and she dragged her hands down her face, pushing the coffee aside and leaning across the table.
“All I want,” she hissed, “is to kiss him.”
“Who, the unicorn or Chuckles?” Varric asked, waving a serving girl over for another cup of coffee.
She pinned Varric with a glare that could probably melt silverite. At the very least, it should have seared the flesh off his bones.
Varric, however, was immune to such looks. She knew this. She still tried to employ them. They always failed. “My hahren—”
“That’s what the kids are calling it these days?” He rubbed his chin. “I’ll have to remember that.”
“That,” she sputtered, “is a term of respect for an elder and not some – some—” She broke off, still sputtering.
“Some salacious pet name?” he supplied.
Dorian dropped into the seat next to her. Aside from Cole, Dorian was the only man Hanal’ghilan let touch her. “Who are we giving salacious pet names to? Can I be next?”
She dropped her head to the table with an audible thunk. “It’s bad enough everyone knows I’ve never had sex with anyone,” she complained into the wood.
“And all you want is for Solas to throw you down and have his wicked way with you, but you have one very large, very white, very horny problem,” Dorian said with far too much cheer for the time of morning.
There was a beat of silence. Then he and Varric broke into laughter so loud it probably reached the Creator’s in the Beyond. She wanted to claw their faces off, but that wasn’t what civilized Inquisitors did.
The door to the tavern banged open, and she turned her head to see a very surly Solas in the doorway. He stopped there. Saw Hanal’ghilan. Hanal’ghilan saw him.
Some kind of energy snapped between the two of them, Hanal’ghilan pawing at the hardwood floor as she hissed at him to behave. Solas spun about on his heel and left. With a cheerful whicker of pleasure, Hanal’ghilan nuzzled against her shoulder.
“I’m going to die a virgin,” she groaned.
“Was this even an issue before our friend showed up?” Dorian asked. He had tried to pronounce Hanal’ghilan’s name once. She had told him if he ever tried again, she would burn all his silky robes and force him to wear cotton. The horror on his face had been priceless.
“No,” she moaned, reaching blindly for her coffee.
One of them, Creators bless them, pushed the mug into her hands. She picked her face off the table and hunkered over the steaming mug, taking small sips of the still too hot drink. It was black and bitter – as bleak as her sex life. She pointed to the mug. “This coffee is my sex life.”
“Hot and steamy?” Varric asked.
“Bitter and black and awful.”
“I thought you liked coffee,” Varric said.
“I don’t. I hate it.” She drank it anyway. “It’s just a good kick in the ass in the morning so I’m awake enough to wrangle all of you. Like whiny little halla who don’t want to go in their pens.”
“We have pens now?” Dorian asked. “That’s rather deviant, Inquisitor.”
“I hate you,” she muttered, throwing back the rest of the coffee in a single gulp.
She began to plan. She went to Cole, because Cole was the only one in Skyhold other than her, apparently, who was a virgin. It was awful. It was terrible. Because of Hanal’ghilan, she knew more about the sex lives of everyone in the Inquisition that she ever wanted or needed to know. The reverse, of course, was also true, and the only one who didn’t seem to care was Cole. Everyone else teased her mercilessly.
“Still have your white shadow,” Leliana had said idly in the War Room two days ago while Hanal’ghilan had lowered his horn at Cullen and proceeded to push the Commander around the room – the Inquisitor had not wanted to consider why.
Just yesterday, Sera had gone on at some length to Blackwall about being elbow deep in circumstances. And had asked the Inquisitor how her circumstances were. They’d both howled with laughter. The Inquisitor had wanted to die.
Or to stick them with something pointy.
Hanal’ghilan was off harassing someone else, so she was planning. With Cole. Planning with Cole was more like trying to herd cats than halla. He kept wandering off in his mind, and she kept having to refocus him. She understood the drifting; they were in the tavern, and there were lots of thoughts constantly brushing up on him. “We should have gone to one of the empty towers,” she said after two hours of getting nothing done.
“I can lead him away for a while,” Cole said abruptly. “We can make crowns of flowers and give them to you when it’s done.”
Her head hit the table with an audible thunk. “Couldn’t we have come to this conclusion at least an hour and a half ago, Cole?”
“Maybe,” he said. He tilted his head to the side. “But you weren’t ready then. You are now. Don’t worry, Solas burns, too. Heated, hot, heavy hands on his—”
Squeaking, she flailed, shushing him. “That’s private, Cole!”
“But he thinks it so loud.” Cole blinked at her with those huge eyes of his. “So do you. You think about him pushing, pressing, pinning. Holding you down and—”
She sputtered, pressing her face into her hands. “Private,” she groaned. When her face stopped flaming, she lowered her hands. “Let’s do it, then. You lead him away. Do the flower thing. And I…”
“Will have and be had,” Cole supplied.
“Yes, that,” she agreed.
So Cole left, and she watched him go to the stables. She watched him lead Hanal’ghilan to the gates. She watched him lead the unicorn out. And then she ran for Solas.
He was pouring over some book she was sure was very interesting, but it couldn’t be more interesting than him bending her over something and—well. She really didn’t know where to go from there, she’d just heard Dorian talk about being bent over things. Presumably, it worked the same way as everything else, but she just didn’t know.
“Hahren,” she said breathlessly, stumbling to a halt just in front of him.
He looked up at her with interest, but not interest.
“Forgive me, but I—”
“Cole took Hanal’ghilan out of Skyhold,” she said, and there was the interest she was looking for. She held out her hand. “Come with me?”
Creators, it suddenly occurred to her that he might say no. That he might gently rebuff her. He had hinted, on more than one occasion, that she was too young for him, that it was inappropriate for him as her hahren to act on any feelings for her. She would strangle him, she decided, if he told her no.
He shot to his feet, taking her hand. “You deserve better than what is sure to be a quick tumble,” he said as she all but dragged him out of the rotunda and hauled him across the great hall.
Behind them, Varric called out, “Unicorn chastity belt, Inquisitor!”
“I’m going to stick you on a spit and roast you, Varric,” she shouted back just before she pushed open her door.
She and Solas tumbled through the door and scrambled as quickly as possible around the tower to the actual door to her room. Then they were through it, and his hands were in her hair, dragging her mouth to his as he pressed her against the side of the stairwell and kissed her. Creators, it was a kiss. His nails scraped against her scalp as his tongue swept into her mouth. It was real and visceral and it flooded her with heat.
“Bed,” he said against her mouth, and he started to draw away.
“The wall is fine,” she protested, pulling him back.
His teeth found her lip, biting and tugging, and she whimpered softly before pressing another hot kiss to his mouth. “Not for your first time,” he said.
“Solas, you could fuck me in the dirt in the woods, and it would be fine,” she snapped, thrusting her hand into his breeches to find him achingly hard.
He swore, cleverly and creatively in Elvish, as she closed her fist around him and stroked. Creators, he was big. She’d stroked boys in her clan until they spilled in her hand, but they were boys and Solas was a man, and the idea of having this part of him inside of her was turning her brain to goo. Her smalls were a mess. She was a mess.
“Fuck me here, hahren,” she breathed, squeezing his cock. He gasped, his breath fanning across her lips. “Up against the wall, just like this.” She rubbed her thumb over his tip, rolling her hips against his thigh.
“Vhenan,” he said, strangled.
“The more you protest, the more time you waste,” she pointed out, taking his hand and guiding it between her legs.
He hissed, pressing the heel of his palm against her clit, rubbing her through the fabric of her trousers, and her mind went blank. She rocked against him, grinding herself on him in a rhythm that practically had her soaking through the fabric. Words escaped her. All she could do was gasp and moan, mewling for more as she worked herself over his hand, hers still stroking him.
Yanking his hand back, he deftly unlaced her trousers. Pushed them down her hips. They caught on her boots, but that didn’t deter them. He stepped between her legs, and she lifted them, trapped as they were, around his hips. His fingers pressed against her wet cunt, one sliding easily into her, and he groaned. “I should do more for you,” he said.
“Fuck me,” she demanded, sliding the fingers of her free hand behind his head. She urged him closer, feigning a kiss, then went straight for his ear. Her lips closed around the delicately pointed tip and he snapped.
He tore at the laces of his breeches, knocking her hand aside in his efforts to free himself. She kept sucking him, pulling broken groans from him with every drag of her tongue along the shell of his ear. And then his cock was free of his pants, and he was pressing it into her, and she had to release his ear so she could let her head fall back against the stone.
“Yes, yes, yes,” she hissed, clawing at his shoulders as he worked himself inside her.
He murmured something in Elvish she couldn’t understand – he was always doing that, speaking far more of their language than any elvhen had a right to – and then he was all the way inside her. “Vhenan.” He sounded strangled.
She brought his lips to hers. “Doesn’t hurt,” she told him. “Shouldn’t it hurt?”
“Sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn’t,” he ground out, and she ground against him, rocking her hips over his. They both gasped at the same time.
“Lucky me,” she said on a soft exhale. “Now, won’t you shut up and fuck me?”
He did. Creators, he did. He wasn’t tender or gentle. He was demanding, taking what he wanted with brisk thrusts that had her moaning his name every time he pushed into her. One hand curved around her ass to support her, to give her more leverage, while the other worked between their bodies to stroke her clit.
That was a revelation. Having a man inside her as he played with her? She could hardly breathe for how good it felt. Some demented part of her thought it felt so good in part because it was petty revenge on an obnoxious unicorn, too.
Then she was lost to thought, drowning in the feel of him. He made her cry out, made her quiver and shake in his arms, until finally, finally, her body clenched around his cock. It was the strangest, most delightful sensation she’d ever experienced, the orgasm somehow more intense for having him inside her. She swore – something about the Dread Wolf’s balls – and Solas swore – something about Mythal’s tits – and then he was coming, too, with jerky, abbreviated thrusts and a look of ecstasy on his face.
They slumped against each other, gasping.
“Vhenan,” he began, but she cut him off with bright, wicked laughter, peppering his face with kisses.
“Finally,” she crowed, laughing, kissing him, wrapping her arms tight around his shoulders and just hugging him. “Finally, finally, finally!” She pulled back, eyes widening with delight. “You know what this means?”
“I’m damned for all eternity for despoiling you?” he asked mildly.
She knew her expression was demented from the way his brows rose slowly. “That Blighted unicorn is going to hate me now!”
An hour or so later, Hanal’ghilan came screaming into the great hall, flowers braided into his mane. He slid to a halt before the Inquisitor’s throne, where she sat idly drinking coffee. He approached slowly, his nostrils flaring, and then recoiled from her. There was, interestingly enough, no condemnation in his eyes. Just quiet acceptance. He trotted away.
“I almost feel bad,” she said, taking a noisy sip of her coffee, as Solas drifted through the great hall toward her, a predatory look in his eyes.
At her side, Varric said, “Do you really?”
“Mmm. A little. A very little.” She sighed happily. “My sex life is still like my coffee, though.”
“Bitter and black?”
She gave him a wicked smile. “Hot and steamy.”
“More than I needed to know, Inquisitor,” he said, and he fled as Solas gained the dais.
“I believe I owe you hours of leisurely lovemaking, vhenan,” he said.
She tossed back the rest of her coffee and set the mug aside. “Let’s see if you can keep up, old man.” He did. But so did she, and it was wonderful.
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