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#i had three (3) drawings not turn out the way i wanted them to so i cranked this out in like an hour in a righteous vengeance
forgeofthenine · 10 hours
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How do you think things would play out if insecure human Tav had feelings for Dammon, but she mistakenly thought he was hitting on Karlach all those times he helped her with her heart? With Tav being oblivious and mistakes that it’s because she is human and that Karlach is a tiefling that he has no interest in her, but in reality he does. How do you think Dammon would respond if there’s a little comment like: “I know it’s Karlach you were hoping to see.”
I'm not sure if I leaned too into the insecure descriptor in the prompt, especially after not doing any writing for so long, but I hope everyone's able to enjoy. I missed my main man so much <3
She isn't you
"I know it's Karlach you were hoping to see."
You can see the whites of Dammons as soon as the sentence leaves your mouth, shock washing over him. It's something you'd tiptoed around for months. The way Dammon looks at Karlach, how he gravitates towards her, how that kills you inside. No one could blame you for falling for the sweet blacksmith with his easy smile and firm confidence.
He'd spent these past months giving your companion the gift of touch back, laughing at her raunchy remarks and looking at her like she'd hung the moon and stars. Hours were spent in his forge fixing her heart, idle chatter between the three of you the only real entertainment. Hours of inadvertently third wheeling them all because of your own unrequited crush. Karlach was your friend though, and if they were happy then you weren't going to interfere.
His lips part slowly. Beautiful, chapped lips you so desperately want to kiss but know you never will. Soon, Dammon finds his voice again. He seems so genuinely confused, as if he can't understand where you got that idea.
"Why would I want Karlach when you're here?"
A long tail flicks behind him, nearly taking out a table leg. A concerned look covers the blacksmiths face as he leans in, hands spreading over his workbench. "Not that Karlach isn't lovely, she is, but I'd prefer to have you here." Dammon clarifies carefully.
It's your own turn to gawk now, looking at the teifling standing there in the firelight. You'd never expected this, to have him so quickly disagree with something you were so certain of. "But... Aren't you and Karlach..." You trail off, unsure of how to word things, picking at your nails.
"Aren't we... what? Seeing each other?" Dammon asks, rounding his work bench with a small chuckle, the wooden floor creaking under steady steps. "Is that assumption what's held you back?" His calloused hand takes yours, smoothing a thumb over your skin as the tiefling draws in your gaze. Blue eyes crinkle at the corners with a small grin, a teasing smile appearing on the blacksmiths face.
"Well, isn't it true?" You gape, gripping his hand. The new brazenness draws a full laugh from the tiefling, topped off with a shake of his head. It's a dumbfounding revelation, after months of near torture watching the two of them only to find out none of your assumptions were true. "Stop laughing, I'm being serious-" You insist, a small frown growing on your face.
Dammon calms himself, still grinning down at your pout. "I know, and I'm sorry." His voice is lower now, missing that teasing lilt you love so much. "There's nothing happening between Karlach and I, promise. I did ask her for some advice, though." He adds, gently squeezing the hand enveloped in his.
You cock your head, wondering whatever advice he could've gotten from Karlach. Something to do with Avernus or leaving the hells? Something tiefling related? The visible confusion almost makes Dammon laugh again, but he contains himself. Instead, a firm tail snakes it's way around your leg, winding around you with a firm pressure.
"I wanted to know how best to ask one of her friends out."
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t00thpasteface · 1 year
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teldryn is learning new things about himself
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moonhoures · 7 months
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Wicked Games
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🕷️ kinktober — day 16: edging 🕸️
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pairing: haechan (nct) + reader (afab/fem)
genre: non-idol!au, smut
warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, established relationship, subtle d/s dynamics (dom!haechan), edging / orgasm denial, oral (f receiving), dry humping, fingering, haechan does eventually let reader cum, haechan calls reader ‘baby’
word count: ~1.3k
synopsis: your boyfriend’s favorite game? denying your orgasms at the last possible second <3
a/n: dedicating this one to my fellow haechan stan @jaylaxies (aria 💙) 🤭
posted: october 16, 2023
kinktober masterlist
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Three times. Your boyfriend had basically taken you by the hand, leading you to the very brink, the precipice, of an orgasm just to rip it away from you right before you could have it. Each time a whine would tear through your throat and escape through your lips before he would hush you with a kiss, telling you that would be the last one. But it wasn’t, it never was. He was in one of those moods again.
Haechan would often get into these sadistic moods where he would thrive off of edging you, denying your release over and over and over again until he finally felt some sympathy for you. He luxuriated in the way your brows scrunched together and your mouth parted to let out a noise of unfathomable pleasure before it turned into squeaks of disappointment and frustration. A smile would spread across his rosy lips when your knuckles would tighten then unfurl after being played for the nth time. It was all a game to him, and he only scored points when you looked disheveled, disheartened, and dissatisfied.
“Hae- Haechan, please,” your voice came out in cracked breaths, desperation dripping off of your words.
“Yes, baby?” he was so patronizing in the way he addressed you, like he was so innocent.
“I need to cum,” you whimpered like a wounded animal, begging for mercy, “Please.”
“You need to?” he repeated, “Or you want to?”
“I-,” you had to be careful, because however you answered next would determine your fate in the next few minutes, “I need to.”
“That so?” he asked after a moment of consideration.
You nodded, hissing when his fingertips touched the bruises he left from gripping your thigh while eating you out just ten minutes prior. The corners of his lips twitched, wanting to form a wicked smile. He continued to trail his fingers along your skin, over your hips and waist, past your navel, creating goosebumps in their wake. Up the center of your chest and the column of your throat, finally the digits came to a halt at your chin. They tilted your face towards his own as he now hovered close to you on your shared bed. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, the taste of your pussy still present on them from his earlier venture.
“Then I shouldn’t make my love wait any longer, huh?”
A venomous undertone was latent in the way he spoke. Your eyes began to tear up as you realized this will either be the finale of your torment or just another round of his cruel little game. You weren’t sure how much more of this you could take, but you wanted to cum so bad you couldn’t think straight anymore.
You breathed deeply in and out of your nose, gritting your teeth behind tight lips as Haechan’s fingers went back between your thighs, drawing meaningless lines and curves with the lightest touch possible. The skin between your thighs was sticky from the amount of arousal that had built up over the past thirty minutes. Thirty minutes of amusing foreplay turned into agony.
The first time, he had you pressed against the wall, your clothes still on. His knee was pressed against your cunt, expertly bucking up between your thighs until you were crying out his name and gripping onto his shirt for dear life. Then he was pulling away, tossing you onto the bed unceremoniously.
The second time, he was eating you out, relentlessly lapping at your clit like a piece of candy. And he didn’t stop until you were squeezing your legs around his head, moans spilling from your pretty lips. The same lips that whined out when he came up with a wet smirk on his own lips, mischief prominent in the way he moved up to kiss you.
The third time, he had been making out with you fervently, the two of you a mess of tangled limbs and mashed lips and teeth. He couldn’t hold back his grunts as he slotted his hips between yours and humped you. Both of you were still in your clothes, but only undergarments. You could practically feel his erection against your pelvis, the tip moistening his boxers as it bumped against your folds with every thrust of his hips. You were so close that third time, the closest you had gotten, only for him to pull away with a laugh when he noticed how pathetic you looked.
But now was the fourth time, and it seemed he was going to finger you. Usually your boyfriend liked to cum inside of you, so your chances of cumming soon were looking slim to none. Your chest deflated when you came to the realization, and Haechan noticed the shift in your expressions. A crack formed in his sadistic, playful demeanor.
“Want you to cum on my fingers. You can do that, can’t you, baby?” he kissed your cheek lovingly as his fingers finally slipped between the cushions of your thighs. The sides of his hands accumulated the arousal from your skin while his fingertips collected it from the depths of your slit. A chill went down your spine as you finally got him to touch you, like, actually touch you. Not with his knee or his tongue, “_________?”
“Yes,” you panted, already having forgotten the question. All you could think about was the pads of his middle and ring fingers teasing the slick skin around your clit. Your hips were bucking into his, yearning for more of him. He found it amusing, a cocky smile showing as he finally moved his fingers to your hole, dipping them in. His eyes watched your face contort with pleasure as he slowly sunk his fingers deeper, knuckle by knuckle, until he couldn’t go any more.
He slowly pulled his fingers out before thrusting them back in, repeating those fluid movements again and again. He created a pace that had your head digging into the pillows and your back arching. Your hands were clutching at his arm and the bed sheets, your fingernails denting his skin and your fingers twisting the sheets in their grip.
You were painfully aware of the wet sounds coming from between your legs. The squelching caused your ears and cheeks to burn with embarrassment, but it only turned Haechan on more than he already was. He loved knowing that he could make you this wet. That with a little foreplay and teasing, he could turn you into the biggest mess, and all without you cumming. If his pride could be measured it would’ve broken a scale by now.
“Cum on my fingers,” he said, gaze intense as he watched you get closer and closer to release. He knew your tells so well by now. The way you clenched around him was a dead giveaway, but your thighs also twitched and shifted, like you wanted to run but had nowhere to go. Your chest moved sporadically with your uneven, rugged breaths. Your moans became unbridled and carnal.
“Can I?” you whimpered, praying this wasn’t just some cruel joke he was making before he ripped the rug out from under your feet again.
“Yeah, baby, come on. Make a mess on my fingers, I want you to.”
Before he could even finish talking, you were already letting out a moan-like sigh, your hips pressing up against his soaked fingers. As soon as you finished, they fell back against the bed, and you were now aware of just how wet the sheets had gotten. But you didn’t care in that moment, and you wouldn’t for a while longer. You only cared about the buzzing sensation riding throughout your lower half, like electricity running through an electric fence. It crackled in your abdomen, your thighs, your toes, your clit. You forgot how good it felt to actually cum. Maybe now you were starting to understand why Haechan got off on doing this to you.
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— taglist #1
@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedriswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @kisses4denji @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite @k-drizzle @iguanas-world
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help-itrappedmyself · 2 months
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Summoning Game Show 3
Masterpost
I got so inspired and had so much fun writing for part 2 I just kept going. I have determined that this 'fic' should be about 7 parts long total. And here's Part 3, because I'm enjoying the nonsense of this so much.
~~~~~
“Congratulations on successfully finishing the first challenge! You can make your way back to the main room to receive your clue.”
The screen changes once Nightwing is on the stage with them. It now shows what looks like a wheel of fortune puzzle. Three words, four letters, four letters, and seven letters.
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“For your clue, you can choose a letter for the puzzle!” Danny explains. “Since there are four of you we will give you four letters automatically, and you each have the chance to earn an extra letter. For the freebies! E, the most common vowel in English.”
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“Looks like no E’s in this puzzle.” Danny shrugs at the boys with a grin on his face. “For the next three letters, we have the three most common consonants: T, N, and S!”
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“Three letters up, two N’s and one T.” Danny turns away from the screen to face Nightwing. “What letter would you like to choose?” Dick turns to look at Red and Jason “This portion is not collaborative.” Danny cuts in with a small frown, making everyone look back at him. “You earned the letter, you choose the letter. They only get to pick a letter after they’ve earned one.”
Nightwing grimaces slightly. “A?” 
“A!” Danny turns back to the screen.
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“One A!” Danny turns back. “The next challenge is a sword fight against Fright Knight! Who would like to sword fight?”
Damian very quickly raised his hand. Tim almost wanted to smack him, but as similar as a bo staff can be, and as much as he doesn’t want Damian in danger, Damian does have the most extensive sword training amongst them.
Danny takes Damian to pick out his sword. “I see that you have a sword already, but the fight is to first blood and you can’t harm Fright Knight with that sword, so that’s kind of unfair. We need to get you a weapon that will actually be able to hit your opponent.” They leave through a side door, but they leave it open so everyone can see all the weapon racks and Danny as he shows Damian around.
Tim leans towards Dick and Jason as Dick takes his seat in the middle chair. “Cool, so our weapons can’t actually hurt them, good to know. What exactly are we going to be asking the King at the end of this?”
“What do you mean?” Dick asks.
“I think he means that if we want to get back to our dimension we don’t want to piss off everyone here by wasting their time.” Jason spits out, sitting up and turning towards them. “They didn’t seem to take too kindly to that idea earlier.”
Dick winces and nods. “We could ask him to deal with the cult that brought us here.”
“What if he kills all of them?” 
“Well, you clearly have an idea Red, why don’t you tell us instead of making us guess.” Jason complains.
“Diplomatic relations.” Red states. “New dimension, new culture. We’re here to learn, maybe we could ask to set up a meeting between the King and Batman, or the Justice League.”
“The whole point of this is to get a meeting, what do you think he’s going to do if we use this meeting to ask for a different meeting?”
“Jason has a point. Maybe we could just ask to set up a way to communicate between us?” Dick suggests.
“I have obtained a sufficient weapon.” Damian calls out as he and Danny approach. Danny comes up onto the stage, heading back to the podium, but Damian doesn’t waste his time going back up and instead waits by the short stairs for further instructions. He is holding a katana, similar to the one he is used to, but with a different grip and that is glowing.
“So, since you’re using a semi unfamiliar weapon, Fright Knight is not going to be allowed to use his Soul Shredder, just to make it fair. And just in case he draws first blood, we don’t want to accidentally send anybody to their nightmare dimension!” Danny chirps out cheerfully. “You will be fighting in here, just stay on the main floor and away from bystanders. Fight will immediately end at first blood, no maiming, no killing, no excessive force. No use of powers is permitted.”
Danny gestures to where Fright Knight is exiting the armory with a regular looking broadsword. “This is Fright Knight.” Fright Knight waves as he comes over, stopping next to Damian so they’re both standing beneath the stage.
“Are you both ready?” The two swordsmen take a few steps away from each other and take positions before nodding. “Begin!”
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ellievickstar · 2 months
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Pretty Lies
A/N: THIS THOUGHT STRUCK ME AS I THOUGHT OF THE MEME SO LIKE BEAR WITH ME FOR A MOMENT OKAY??? also i gave up valentine week, i want to write a lot does not mean i want to stick to a schedule.
Summary: Cassian has some questions about you and Azzy's relationship, and because you are both very private people you choose not to answer Cassian truthfully, but what will happen when he decides to test your answer out?
Request: Nope.
Pairing: Azriel x reader
Warnings: Fluff. I'm in my soft era okay??? shush. This is set before even Amarantha so somewhere between the first war and the curse.
⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆
Cassian glanced between you and Azriel, both of you had been speaking through the mating bond, thus it was mostly silent. Truth to be told, your bond was quite new and Cassian had not really heard you both interact with each other since you both confessed your love.
"Hey...I have a question," Cassian spoke up, raising his hand slightly. You cocked your head curiously, waving a hand to encourage him to continue.
"Do you guys use pet names?" Glancing at Azriel, he shrugged.
"No," You said simply.
Narrowing his eyes, Cassian internally scoffed. He did not buy it, not for one moment. Azriel may have been the most quiet among the three of them but he knew for a fact that Azriel was probably the most affectionate behind close doors. Azriel cared in a way that was quiet, a way that did not draw attention. The smallest details that hinted to the fact that the shadow singer cared more than he let on.
Cassian nodded to himself, he would reveal your lies and expose them for what they are, this was his true purpose in life.
⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆
His plan commenced during dinner.
Waiting for the proper moment to strike, he suddenly piped up when you and Rhys were deep in conversation, Azriel was listening to Amren closely as she complained about how boring her life was now.
"Hey, Y/N, what do bees make?" Cassian asked slyly. Hesitating for a second, you gazed at him before answering, "Honey?" It was then that Azriel suddenly said, "Yes, Sweetheart?" Mor exploded into laughter, Amren hummed her amusement and Rhys grinned like a wild cat.
Blushing a deep red, you turned your head to hide your face in Azriel's arm, his hand coming up to stroke your hair while your body shook from trying not to laugh, his lips curling up into a smirk.
"I KNEW IT," Cassian screamed, "YOU LIARS TOLD ME YOU DIDN'T USE PET NAMES, HOW COULD YOU LIE TO ME," Wincing at how loud he was, Azriel shot Cassian a pointed glare in which Cassian quieted down, sulking slightly as he dramatically collapsed back in his chair, clutching his chest from 'heartbreak'.
"I'm sorry Cass, but you're not the most...subtle person," You tried. You were trying to not snicker and be kind about it but he gasped louder. "I can be subtle. I am soooo subtle," He rolled his eyes.
"So if I told you I found my mate would you be calm?" Rhys joked. However, Cass's eyes widened at Rhys, his eye balls seemingly almost popping out. "I'M THE LAST ONE LEFT WITHOUT A MATE????"
⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆
Bonus:
"Never lie to my face every again," Cass whined, chuckling you nodded, Azriel's wing tucking you closer to his side, ready to scoop you up once you were done talking to Cass so you could retire home for the night.
"I promise I will tell you every detail, even how Az-"
"NEVER MIND!"
⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆
A/N: hope this was fun to read heheheh see y'all next time <3
Azriel taglist: @chessebookgirl (if you guys want to be tagged in any character fics please tell me and I will happily add you <3)
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blackopals-world · 11 months
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I've Found Home
Fem!Yuu and Twisted Cast
(Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8)
Implied relationship
She moved on. She had to and had every reason to. She had someone who relied on her.
Warnings:hurt-comfort, Angst to heal your soul. Healing those and abandonment issues. Happy ending I promise. Don't read if you are not ready to cry. Did not proof read, wrote this late a night, sick and half asleep. Sorry.
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Move on.
Forget.
There was no going back.
You chose this.
You wanted this.
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After three years of living in another world Yuu couldn't adjust easily to her old life.
A life that no longer exists. So she began building a new one.
She found a good price on a place near the mountains. Private but not isolated. She had the money after her book deal.
People would never believe her story so she wrote fantasy novels. She felt closer to her friends this way but more lonely all the same. She couldn't share the truth with anyone and could never talk about them as though they were real.
Still, she could write new stories with new characters to forget.
Life had been quiet. Eat, sleep, write, watch TV, read and do it all again. Sometimes getting food deliveries, read fan mail and get a call to two. It was decent life. Something Idia would love.
He's probably taken over STYX by now. I bet he and Ortho are doing great together.
Nevermind, she could probably cook something. Eating instant meals was probably ruining her health. Vil would kill her if he knew.
...
Food can wait. She wasn't that hungry anyways.
The garden! Yes! She had to tend the garden! She had ordered a spring bundle to plant.
The tag said it had some tulips, mums, begonias, and specialty white roses.
Nevermind... forget it. She should take a nap. A lazy day never hurt anyone. Even beasts can afford to sleep.
...
...
...
Yuu decided to leave. She couldn't take this anymore. If she got one more reminder she'd collapse. Their faces were ingrained in her mind and guilt burned under her skin.
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Life was funny you know. You don't know what come next.
Yuu certainly didn't.
She hiked up the mountain trying to forget every time Jade would drag her to go foraging with him. Every late-night walk she had with Malleus. Every magic carpet ride with Kalim.
It wasn't fair! Why did she have to go through this? She wanted to see them again. What did she do to deserve this?
She was good! She was kind! She just wanted to go home! Is that so wrong? She worked hard! She made a name for herself! She should have the life she wanted and be able to enjoy that life.
But she missed them...
Unknowingly Yuu had dropped to her knees and crying. Only the forest could hear her and perhaps it took pity on her.
(Warning: If you are sensitive to child abuse or dead animals please don't read on.)
When her tears were gone and her cries faded there was a response.
A different cry. High pitched and gurgling. The kind that every woman knew in an odd instinctual way. The kind that sets off every alarm in your head and makes every hair stand on end. A baby.
She ran towards it praying to God that this wasn't a mountain lion. It wasn't though.
She found a small shack off the path. It was surrounded by trash. Must have been occupied by squatters. Said squatters seemed to have vacated at least a few days ago.
Yuu muscled open the makeshift door. The crying had turned into unfamiliar cracking breathless howls. Their voice must have given out a while ago after who knows how long. Hours, days...any longer would mean death.
Yuu searched and found a bunker of sorts under the floorboards.
She found a soggy bare mattress, a few scattered crayons, a ball and-oh God, that smell. It was a rotting cat. Poor thing must have been here for weeks. There was an empty cat food bowl nearby. Little drawings littered the floor. Ones of a smiling child with a smiling cat.
The whimpering cries continued and drew Yuu forward. She found them curled up in a corner. A rope was tied around their leg. It was a child. They were wrapped in soiled clothes, had matted hair, and emaciated.
Yuu felt her heart break again. This poor baby. Who could do this.
He looked at her with fear and hope. He wanted-no needed to be saved. He was probably no older than 3. He had no understanding of what was happening to him. His tears had marked his face as the only place was covered in a layer of dirt.
"Hey, is okay I'm here to help. I'm going to take you away now. Is that okay? We'll get you some food." Yuu tried to keep her voice even to not scare him.
The boy crawled over to the place of the dead cat. And began shaking it.
"Nina!Nina!" He wailed trying to wake her up.
He didn't know she was dead. He didn't even understand what death was.
"I'm sorry Nina can't come with us." Yuu said pulling him gently by the back of his ragged shirt.
But children don't understand these things.
"Nina! No! Nina!" He yelled horsey.
"Shh, it's okay. Don't worry I'll come back for her later. I promise." Yuu hushed.
She could bury her in the garden. He clearly loved her a lot and the poor kitty deserves that much.
After untying the rope Yuu lifted the boy into her arms and carried him home. He made almost no noise as he buried himself in her arms.
Yuu promised herself that she'd never let something like this happen to him again. He would never be abandoned again, he'd never go hungry again, and he'd be loved. She'd love him, she swore it.
"My son." She whispered to no one at all but I affirmed everything she felt.
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He needed a name. The case worker didn't have one for him on file. She got to choose one.
For a writer she struggled to find one.
Mal, Elliot, Leo, Cecil, Bishop, Ali, Jacob, Carter, Azure, Jess
Only one name stuck
Grimm
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"Grimm! It time for bed. Grab a book if you want me to read it to you." Yuu said walking up the stairs.
Grimm scanned his bookshelf for one of his favorites. The titles were: "The Rose Queen", "The King of Beasts", "The Wishing Star", "The sea witch", "The Sand Serpent", "The fairy Gala", "The Little Robot", "Magic Cat", "The beautiful Queen", and "The Underworld and back again"
Grimm had a favorite right now. The newest among the children's book collection Yuu had written. She pulled it off the shelf and ran back to bed.
Yuu could barely keep up these days. Grimm was fast but Yuu had practice.
She pulled the covers over him and read the title as Grimm snuggled up with his favorite stuffed animal. It was another merchandise stuffed animal. It was a big gray cat with a stripped bow and purple crystal around its neck.
Grimm named it Nina and took it everywhere. Along as it comforted him Yuu said nothing.
"The Lonely Dragon: Once upon a time there was a powerful dragon prince who lived in a land far far away." Yuu began.
"But the dragon isn't lonely forever. He meets the lost princess and they become best friends! Oh and the Silver knight comes in stop the dragon here!" Grimm interrupted leaning over his mother.
" Well if you want to tell the story." Yuu sighed.
When Yuu finished Grimm asked her something.
"So the dragon isn't lonely anymore?" He looked at her with wide eyes.
"No, he has many friends and rules over a nice kingdom," Yuu said in a hushed voice as shifted his pillow to make him lie down.
"What about the lost princess?"
"The lost princess found her way home. She said goodbye to her friends and is where she belongs now."
"But is she lonely? Without all her friends?"
"She used to be but now she has a home. She misses her friends but she's happy."
"I wish I could meet her. I'd be her friend and she'd never be lonely again."
"I know, I'd bet she'd be so happy. Goodnight, baby."Yuu turned off the light as she kissed Grimm's cheek
"Night Mama." Grimm said kissing his mother back.
When Yuu left the room she kept the door open just a bit so Grimm wouldn't be afraid of the dark.
She took a deep breath. Maybe she shouldn't have written the Lost Princess series but it was so well loved these days what could she do?
Still, she could relive those days for just a brief moment and smile.
She made her way to the study to go back to writing her new book when a knock came from downstairs.
Yuu cautiously made her way to the door and pressed an ear to it to listen to who it might be. Forgetting she had a peephole. A familiar voice called her name from the other side.
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azsazz · 2 months
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Midnight Muse (Epilogue)
Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]
Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 2,783
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Part 19] [Part 20] [Part 21] [Part 22] [Part 23] [Part 24] [Part 25] [Masterlist]
Notes: The end of an era 😭😭 Holy smokes I'm so happy and also sad I cannot believe it's over.
_________________________________________
**Seven Months Later**
“Azriel,” you sing-song, bursting in through the open front door to their house. 
At the end of the spring semester Azriel’s father had bought 3rd Street apartments, and none of you had renewed your leases. His father hadn’t even tried to convince him to stay, but that didn’t matter to Azriel. The only thing that any of the five of you seemed to care about was that you’d no longer be living next to each other come summer.
Azriel, Rhysand, and Cassian had found a house to rent on the outskirts of campus. Of course, the place is gorgeous, a modern number that looks like it costs more than Rhysand is making it out to be. He’d been adamant about the three of them staying together, no matter what, and he’d tried to convince you and Feyre to move into another apartment nearby, but it wasn’t the right fit for either of you. 
You wanted something more homey than the new building, something walkable since you nor Feyre have cars. You already miss your old apartment dearly, saddened by what Azriel’s father is going to make it into. Sure, the elevator was a death trap that stuck, and sure, the walls were thinner than paper, but it was home, where you’d found love with your grumpy next door neighbor, though you’re sure in Azriel’s version of the story you were the grumpy one. 
The five of you had spent your last night at the building together, drinking and eating your heart content in waffles and ice cream from Rita’s. It was the perfect last night to end your time in the building, but also the semester. You passed your Drawing 101 final with flying colors, the half swan portrait you drew was something you’d never thought you’d be able to finish. Now, it’s one of your most treasured artworks. 
You’d chosen the swan because of their representation of the awakening of the power of self and self-esteem. When you’d started the semester you’d been unsure of your ability in the creative world, but after hearing the stories of so many around you, Azriel’s included, it awakened your inner artist, and your work only grows more confident by the day.
You’d also chosen to morph yourself with the swan because of their grace. Grace in dealing with others; Azriel’s gnarly attitude, Cassian’s cheekiness, Rhysand’s cockiness, Lucien’s snark, and Feyre’s hidden relationship, which didn’t last long, but still hurt your friendship.
You’ve come a long way since then, and are now in love with the neighbor that had been a thorn in your side for months. Azriel is as sweet as ever now, though he still distracts you from your work these days, but it’s no longer with rowdy music.
You turn towards the living room where you hear Azriel calling your name. You come to a screeching half at the sight of him and Cassian, chests bare as they carry a couch between them, moving further into the room. 
Your eyes zero in on Azriel, his tan chest glistening with effort. It’s move in day for them and they’ve been carrying boxes from 3rd Street apartments all morning. He looks godly in the light spilling in through the large glass windows overlooking the yard. The parties at this place are going to be insane this year, of that you know. It’s all Cassian has talked about since they’d signed the lease, commenting how their housewarming party is going to rival that of Project X. 
“Hey, princess,” Azriel winks at your wandering eyes and you can only beam. So what if he’s caught you admiring his chiseled torso? He’s all yours and you can stare if you please. Although, the sudden dampness between your legs has you shifting on your feet, Azriel’s smirk widening. 
“Can you two stop eye-fucking for one minute?” Cassian groans dramatically, acting like he’s struggling under the weight of the couch. You and Azriel both roll your eyes at the same time, which makes you burst into giggles. “This thing is fucking heavy.” 
“All right, let’s put it over here,” Azriel directs, guiding them a few more feet into the room. They place it in front of the giant TV Rhysand splurged one, and you know movie nights are going to be great in here. It’ll be just like you’re at a movie theater, without all of the extra bodies. 
You and Azriel still have yet to break in the couch, often choosing the privacy of his bedroom (as much as the thin walls give you) over the common rooms he shares with his roommates.
Speaking of, there’s a thump coming from upstairs and the sound of Feyre’s laughter drifting down the staircase. So maybe this new house isn’t that much more private than your old apartment.
As soon as he puts his end of the couch down you’re flinging yourself into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck. Azriel laughs and swings you around before planting your feet back on the ground and leaning over to kiss you silly. 
The flooding warmth throughout your body only intensifies as he steps closer, pressing his body into yours and rolling his hips a little, allowing you to feel his interested cock in his pants. 
“Hi,” you grin when you part.
Azriel’s gold eyes glitter with amusement. “Hi, princess. How is your morning?” 
Your hands snake down his chest, brushing over his nipples as you go. You don’t miss his reaction to your touch and it makes you giddy all over again. Hooking your fingers into the waistband of his pants, your smile turns sultry, watching his eyes darken. “Much better now.” 
“Is that so?” Azriel quirks an eyebrow. He looks like he’s two seconds away from dragging you upstairs to his new room and breaking it in. You wouldn’t mind that one bit. “Do I want to know why you’re this cheery this early in the morning?”
“You already know,” you beam, rolling onto the tips of your toes to kiss him on the nose. When you try to pull away Azriel growls, tightening his grip on you. 
“You can’t say that and not want me to fuck you, princess,” he says roughly, leaning down to whisper in your ear. His breath is hot across the shell and you shudder in his arms, eyelashes fluttering at his words. You have to swallow back the moan threatening to escape.
You startle at the sound of a loud crash, turning to see Cassian all but glaring at the two of you, having just dropped a box of books to the ground purposefully. 
“I thought we were supposed to be moving,” Cassian tosses over his shoulder and yells up the stairs, “I can’t have both roommates fucking already. There’s still so much shit to move!”
“I’m coming,” Rhysand yells back and you crinkle your nose.
“Ew.” 
It makes Cassian crack, a smile twitching at his lips. He has his hands on his hips and is still staring at you and Azriel in a false stern manner. “I knew I made a good decision to befriend you, (Y/N).”
“More like forced yourself into my life,” you grumble playfully, following him out to his Bronco, stuffed full with boxes.
“Just for that, I’m giving you a heavy box,” he teases right back, but he wasn’t kidding because your breath is nearly knocked from your chest when he hands you one. It’s falsely labeled ‘Az’s room’ on it because it feels like there’s a pile of bricks in it. 
Azriel glares at his roommate as he rids you of the heavy box. You give him a smile in thanks, sneakily sliding out a box labeled ‘couch pillows’ instead. It takes you back to the day that you and Feyre moved into your last apartment, how the living room box had been the last one you’d brought inside before your very first—and terrible—run in with Azriel.
The smile you wander inside with is a nostalgic one.
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“Are you ready?” 
“Yes!”
“Then why are you acting like I’ve already put the needle to your skin?” Azriel argues, sitting back in his chair.
You’re laid up on the table, shirt pulled up to your neck, waiting for Azriel to put the tattoo gun to your skin. You keep squirming, not quite comfortable on the cold table top, but it’s the best he can do while he’s still waiting to hear back about his apprenticeship he interviewed for last week. It’s been a few long, grueling days, and you thought you’d distract him by finally allowing him to give you your first tattoo. It had taken you months to decide, and Azriel hadn’t pushed you once about the matter, no matter how badly he’d wanted to put ink on your skin.
Now, the sound of the gun is making you rethink your decision.
You sigh loudly and Azriel shuts the gun off, placing it on the table. He rips the gloves from his hands and helps you sit up, guiding your shirt back into place.
“Maybe we should wait,” he suggests softly, though you can see the hurt in his eyes.
It’s not that you don’t trust him. No, you trust Azriel with your life. It’s that you’re overthinking the design you’d thought you wanted so badly. 
“I want one,” you huff, sadly, “But I don’t think this is the one.”
Azriel soothes his hands up your thighs. “That’s okay, princess. There’s no rush. You don’t even have to get one, if you don’t want to.” 
“I do,” you whine in frustration. You had it planned for weeks, this idea, and now…you just can’t go through with it. It doesn’t feel right. 
You slide off of the table into Azriel’s lap, resting your head against his chest as he holds you tight. You let the soothing beat of his heart calm you down, the running of his hands up and down your back a relaxing gesture. It makes your heart swell, with the amount of love that you have for him. 
Azriel brushes some hair away from your face when you pull back. He’s studying you with those intense golden eyes you’ve come to adore. You can read everything in those eyes; his annoyance, his happiness, his anger, his lust, even his feelings for you, but right now, you’re not all too confident in what he’s thinking.
“I want to show you something,” he murmurs softly and you frown.
“Okay,” you answer tentatively, but his hand is sure in yours as he laces your fingers together after helping you off his lap. 
He guides you up the stairs and into his room.
“Azriel,” you tease, “I already know this room too well,” you say, alluding to his first night in the house where he fucked you over every surface in his room. It was pure bliss, one of the best nights you’ve shared.
Azriel puffs a breathy laugh and guides you to sit on the edge of his bed. You follow his instructions with obedience, covering your eyes when he tells you.
He waves a hand in front of your face to make sure you’re not looking. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Um,” your lips turn into the cutest pout when you think. “Two?”
He’s holding up none but he grumbles. “I was thinking two.” 
You bounce giddily on the edge of his bed and his cock twitches as he thinks of you bouncing on his cock just like that. 
“Easy, princess.” 
You stop your bouncing but not your grinning.
Azriel strides over to his closet, pulling out the canvas he’s been working on, when you aren’t around, of course. Well, he only dares pull it out around you when you’re fast asleep in his bed. It’s consumed him day and night, and finally, his masterpiece is finished.
“What is it?” you ask giddily, unable to rein in your excitement or the butterflies in your stomach.
You hear Azriel’s laughter as he moves closer. “If I told you, that would defeat the whole purpose of me asking you to close your eyes, princess,” he tuts and you swear you can hear him rolling his eyes. “But you can open them now, Miss Impatient.”
“That’s my middle name—” your words stick to your throat as you stare at the canvas he’s holding in front of you. 
You’re in awe, struck by the lines so confidently drawn. You’re transported back to the night of his exhibition, when he’d shown you the blackest parts of his soul, put on canvas. 
Similarly to the centerpiece of the show, the charcoal drawing he has in front of you are two hands intertwined. His, with his rough scars, clutching tightly to a flawless hand, a feminine hand. 
Your hand. 
Azriel shifts nervously on his feet. All you’re doing is staring, open-mouthed, and he’d normally take that as a good sign, but when tears well your eyes his heart pinches in his chest.
“It’s,” you choke, pressing a hand to your aching heart. “It’s so beautiful, Azriel.”
He breathes out a sigh of relief, only managing to move the canvas out of the way when you launch yourself into his arms, sobbing into his chest. He leans it against the edge of his bed and tucks you tightly into his arms, pressing soft kisses to your forehead. 
“Shhh, princess. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” 
“I’m crying because it’s perfect,” you pull away and he’s wiping softly at your cheeks. Your eyes are red-rimmed and he hates that but he loves the way it makes your eyes pop. He studies them for a little longer, committing it to memory, something to sketch for later. “You’re perfect. And I—I love you.” 
His attention snaps onto your words, holding onto them like they could slip away like a shadow. You haven’t said that before, neither have you. And he’s been wanting to say it for so long now, was going to so many times but it never felt like the right moment. 
And it’s now that he realizes that there was never going to be a better moment than any of the times his lips formed the words, only for nothing to come out. He should’ve said it when he felt it because he knows you don’t care about the moment being this perfect thing, for fucks sake you’re crying in his arms right now and you’re telling him that you love him for the first time. 
He is such an idiot sometimes.
“I love you too, princess,” he admits in a rasp, throat thick with the words. He’s never felt something this strongly for someone before. He wants to be around you all of the time, wants to hold you and touch you and taste you. You consume him, mind, body, and soul.
You’re there, tattooed on his fucking soul, inked in the love he hadn’t known he was missing until you met. The darkness that consumed him was a starless sky, a void waiting to be filled. You. You are the moon and the stars lighting him up, brightening his days.
He fucking loves you. So, so much.
“Yeah?” you ask, your soft crying turns to happy tears, ones he can’t help but to kiss as they roll down their cheeks. “You love me?” 
“I love you, (Y/N),” Azriel says, “I think maybe I always have.” 
“That’s so not true,” you laugh wetly, trying to swat at his chest. Azriel catches your hand in his and kisses your palm, golden eyes gleaming.
“Okay,” he concedes with a grin, “Maybe not always, but for a long time now.” 
You shake your head fondly. Your eyes dart away from him in your sudden nervousness. “Az?” 
“Yeah, princess?” 
You look at the picture once more, admiring it. It’s utterly perfect, just like him. 
Pointing at it, you say, “That. I want that as my first tattoo.”
Azriel stares, shocked. “Are you sure? You know I’ll give you any tattoo that you want, but I need you to be one hundred percent positive. I don’t want you to regret anything.”
“I won’t,” you shake your head in disagreement and the softness in his eyes makes your heart swell. He looks like he can’t believe you’re real and you’re his. You’ll make him believe it and more. Later, you want to hear him say those three magical words while he’s pinning you to his sheets. Now, you want a tattoo. “This has to be the tattoo, Az. It’s us. I want us.”
He kisses you firmly on the mouth. Desperate.
“I want us too.” 
“Then let’s do this thing, Az. I’m ready.”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
MM Taglist Part 1: @justvibbinghere @nickishadow139 @going-through-shit @honeycries @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @reiincarnatiion @ccucumbers @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r @ssmay123 @haivenhoule @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @bloodicka @acourtofbatboydreams @hannzoaks @judig92 @ilikefictionalmen @harrystylesfan2686 @dr4g0ngirl @helensophie @isa1b2h3 @viatorem-maris
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ravenslvt · 2 months
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why does your best friend’s brother have to be so hot??
☆ suna rintarou x fem!reader (pt.2) ☆
cw: smut! shower sex, pet names, porn with feelings, oral m receiving, rough sex, tension.
pt.1 link pt.3 link pt.4 link
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“hellooo? earth to ami?” you wave your hand in front of your friend’s face. she was laser focused on her switch, music blasting in her headphones as she plays the new zelda game. she gives you one glance “yeah?” she says, pausing the game and taking off one headphone.
“i’m gonna shower. where do you keep the towels?”
“hallway closet. if not, ask rintarou” she puts her earphone back in, zoning back into her game. you sigh, walking out of her room and into the hall. she took her video games seriously. you open the cabinet, eyes squinting for a towel to use. oh great, of course the best ones were on the top row. you huff.
“what’cha doin?” a low voice rumbles from behind you. you keep yourself from practically jumping out of your skin. “jesus, rintarou. stop sneaking up on me like that!” you smack his arm playfully. he just smiles. he loved your reactions to him.
he was shirtless, skin glistening in fresh sweat. it was clear he just got done with a workout. your eyes wander down his chest.
“where’s ami?” he asks, his voice a little quieter than usual. your eyes draw back to his, raising your brows. “playing games in her room… why?” you cross your arms over your chest, looking up at the taller man. he just reaches over you to grab a towel you were looking for. he smelled like a mix of his cologne and sweat, it was dizzying.
“i wanted the pink one…” you pout as he hands you the white towel. he shrugs, taking it for himself. “i’ll take this one then.” he grabs you the pink towel you wanted, a smile growing on your face. “and what do you mean by that?” you hug the fluffy towel to your chest, your eyes raking over his handsome features.
it had been three days since you and him had your moment in the kitchen. the marks on both of you almost completley faded by now. the only thing left of that night was the lingering memory of his touch.
he grabs your hand, leading you into the big hallway bathroom, shutting the door and locking it. you carefully place the pink towel down on the spacious counter, but rintarou had other ideas.
“c’mere” he grabs you by the waist, slamming his mouth into yours, leaning you against the sink. the bathroom echoed with your small noises of enjoyment.
“always so loud” he reluctantly pulls away, making you pout. he quickly turns on the shower to cover your noise. in a flash, his mouth is back on yours. your hands go to his bare chest, pressing against his hard muscles. he smiled at this.
the hot steam of the shower slowly filled the room, reminding you of what you even came in here to do. his hands reach for your top, you help him peel it off over your head. your own nervous hands reach at his workout shorts, pushing them down his hips to leave him in his boxers. fuck, he was hard already.
“don’t wanna make a mess again, c’mon.” you clench at the memory of him fucking you on the counter downstairs just a few nights ago. once you’re both stripped completely, he makes sure your towels are close to the shower as he steps into the hot pouring water. your arms cover your chest when you follow him in, a bit self conscious. he holds your elbow to help you get under the sprinkling water.
the water poured over his head, his hair slicked to his face. you admired how good he looked with the droplets falling down his face to his neck to his chest, all the way down to his hard cock and the trimmed brown hair surrounding it.
he held your face in his hands, studying you. it made your face flush.
“you’re so pretty” his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, dragging it down before letting it go.
“you’re prettier” you reply, looking up at him blissfully. he just chuckles.
“not a chance” he leans in for another kiss, this time a little more slow and heartfelt. it made your insides feel hot when his hands move down your body. you gasp softly as his hands palm your ass, bringing you closer to him. he slowly grinded his arousal into your thigh, making you whine. you just wanted him inside already.
he groans when you take his hard cock in your hand, gently rubbing your thumb up and down the slit before stroking him, making him hiss.
“can i? please rin.” you give him pleading eyes, begging to let you suck him off in the shower. he groans.
“i don’t wanna hurt your pretty knees, baby.” his large hands comfortably rub your hips. you just roll your eyes.
“i don’t care. just want it in my mouth.” you give him a peck on his lips, then his neck, then his chest. going all the way down to the base of his cock. you lower yourself on your knees, ignoring the sting of the hard floor against your sensitive skin.
you give his head small kitten licks, focusing on the tip where you know he was most sensitive. you slowly take him into your mouth, bobbing your head back and forth before taking him almost all the way in. he was just so big! your eyes watered when he hit the back of your mouth, using your small hand to wrap around the rest that wouldn’t fit.
“fuckk.” the back of his head hits the shower wall with a small thump, but he was more caught up in the pleasure of your mouth sucking him off. his hands grip your hair, making you moan around him. he curses at the vibration of your throat around him. you notice, softly humming to keep the rumble around him.
he had to hold himself back from grabbing your face and fucking your mouth, not wanting to hurt you. his hips stuttered as your mouth moved up and down his shaft, trying to copy what you've seen in videos.
your free hand reached down, rubbing your clit. you couldn’t help it, the view of him losing himself in your mouth was just too much for you to handle. you’d imagined this so many times, the taste of him. everything. you hollow your cheeks, trying to get him as deep as you could without choking.
“s-stop or i’m g-gonna cum, fuck!” he practically whines, his eyes on you. you were so wet just from his sounds. you just take him deeper, ignoring the burning ache in your jaw. you could taste the saltiness of his precum on your tongue, your fingers moving in rhythm on your clit.
it takes all of his willpower, but he pulls you off of him, groaning at the string of spit and precum dripping from your mouth. you frown. he just runs his hand through your wet hair, panting.
“i wanna finish with you, baby. i’ll let you taste me properly another time, yeah?” you nod as he pulls you back up on your feet, holding you so you don’t fall from your shakey knees.
he kisses you again. god, he could do this forever. his cock was still hard, red and raging from all the stimulation. it practically twitched at the thought of being inside you again when it brushes against your wet thigh.
he grabs your hips, slamming you against the cold shower wall with pure hunger on his mind. the sight of you touching yourself while sucking him off making him almost cum at the thought. he was utterly obsessed with you.
he starts to kiss down your jaw to your neck, starting to suck small marks into your skin.
“no marks!” you scold him. he just pouts, nuzzling his head into your neck. he understood why, but he just wished he could let everyone know you were his, though he’d never admit it.
he hesitently pulls back, hiking your leg to wrap around his hip. fuck. he couldn’t tell if you were more wet from the actual water from the shower or from his touch. it was mostly from him.
he lines himself up with your hole, his tip poking at your entrance. “you ready?” he asks, rubbing his cock between your folds, making you mewl.
“yes, please just put it- fuck!” you practically scream as he sinks himself into your needy pussy, holding back a loud groan himself. you felt even better than before. or maybe he just missed your cunt so much.
“shh. you’re almost louder than the shower…” he rasped out, holding onto your hips for dear life. he started moving, setting a mouth watering pace. the way his tip brushes your g spot with every deep thrust makes your head loll back onto the shower tile.
you couldn’t tell if it was the steam from the hot shower, or the way he was pounding into you that was making you so hazy. probably both.
you couldn’t control the little whimpers and moans coming from your mouth, thankful that the shower was loud enough to cover up your small sounds.
suddenly, there was a knock at the door and a call of your name.
“what is taking you so long?! i need to shower too girl!” ami yells from outside the door. your eyes widen, rintarou immediately covering his own mouth with his hand. he was still balls deep inside of you, trusts slowing down, but not stopping.
“s-sorry! just had to wait for the water to heat up!” you shout back, she just groans.
“whatever, i’ll just use the other shower.” you could hear her voice receding down the hall. you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding in.
“we really need to find better places to fuck.” he comments, his pace quickening again.
“you’re the one who- f-fuck- dragged me in here.” you pant, your tits bouncing at the way he fucked you against the cool tile.
“don’t act like you didn’t want this. pussys practically sucking me in.” he adds.
“fuck” he mumbles, looking down at where you two met. the way you could see the buldge of his cock through your belly everytime he entered you. he placed his hand over it.
he lowers his mouth to your tits, taking one in his mouth, gently biting and sucking, making you moan. he switches between them until he’s satisfied, making you squeeze around him.
“so fucking hot.” he growls, holding onto your leg to bring it higher so he can fuck you even deeper. he was close, his cock pulsing inside of you.
“m’ cuming!” you cried out, holding onto his shoulders for support, nails digging into his skin. you rut your hips to meet his own thrusts in absolute bliss, vision getting blurry with tears as you clench around him, his dick fitting so perfectly inside of you, making you feel so fucking good.
“right there with you, baby. w-where can i-“ he starts, his pace stuttering. his brows were furrowed in concentration.
“inside rinn, please please please!” you begged, locking your leg around his hip to bring him deeper. he moans, his hot seed filling you to the fucking brim. your eyes squeeze shut at the feeling of his cock pumping cum inside of you.
he kisses you through your orgasms, swallowing all your moans along with his own. you pull away, dizzy with lust, panting heavily.
he pulls his cock out of you with a groan, the mixes of your release dripping down and washing away almost instantly in the water.
he kisses your cheek, soothing you. “let’s wash up, pretty girl.”
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a/n: i’m so overwhelmed with all the support on this series!! i already have plans for the next part with a little more plot since this one was mostly smut! i do plan on basically every chapter having smut so don't worry y'all &lt;3
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merakiui · 2 months
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Helloooo! I’d like to order a flower bouquet + strawberry ice cream from the misc. menu as well as some lemon squares + custard donuts from the midnight menu for Scaramouche <3
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yandere!scaramouche x (gender neutral) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, dub-con, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, friends with benefits, forced pregnancy/baby-trapping (no pronouns; reader has a pussy), modern college au note - thank you for checking in, dearest guest! enjoy your order! [lunar love hotel]
You’re writing a paper.
Sitting at your desk, scrolling through clothes online, you wonder if your meager paycheck will cover the shipping costs. This is all research. Research that is very necessary in the paper-drafting process, of course! You click on an outfit just as Scaramouche looks up from his phone.
Correction. You’re trying to write a paper.
“Great progress. I can really see the thought you put into this.”
“I’m envisioning it as we speak.”
“Yeah? Doesn’t seem to be getting you anywhere.” He sets his phone down and leans closer. “Last I checked you’re not writing about clothes.”
“Last I checked,” you say, mocking him, “I didn’t ask for commentary. Don’t you have anything better to do?” 
A smug smile sharpens on his face. “I can think of a few things.”
Groaning, you shove him away. “No way. Not today.”
“Why not? It didn’t seem to bother you that last time when we did it before your lecture. You were so out of it you didn’t want me to leave you alone. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
“Not my fault I was tired! Don’t tell me you’ve never said and done stupid things when you’re running on three hours of sleep.”
“Not once,” he declares, looking quite proud. As if it’s some grand achievement. Does he want an award? “And even if I was, I wouldn’t be reduced to sugary, sappy putty.”
“I called you ‘sweetheart’ once by mistake. Get over it.”
Scaramouche rests his elbow on the desk, his cheek in his hand. “I don’t think I want to.”
Shutting your laptop, you turn in your chair to face him. “And I don’t think I want to fuck you today.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Oh, you’re gonna do all the work?”
“That’s the plan. Be grateful I’m so good to you,” he teases, leaning closer and closer until—
You block your lips before he can capture them. “I really can’t today. Paper aside, I don’t have any protection and I’m not on birth control right now.”
“It doesn’t have to be inside.” He sits back in his chair, exuding casual confidence. “Unless you want to risk it.”
You try to put enough ice in your glare, but it melts quickly. You really shouldn’t. It’s not a safe day. You really, really shouldn’t…
Scaramouche raises a brow, waiting for your reply.
Despite everything, you’re wheedled into it anyway. You’re not even sure what you want. Is it yes or no? It’s been months since you fell into this arrangement with him—the campus’s infamous lone wolf who goes out of his way to make himself unapproachable. Or, according to your friends, he’s more of a lonely stray cat in need of a friend. Scaramouche had scoffed when you told him that.
Your friends are idiots, he said with a scowl. It only made him look even more like a grumpy cat in need of companionship. Not that you’d ever tell him that. It would only serve to stoke the flames of his ire.
But right now, looking up at him while he ruts into you, sweat sticking in all the right places, his hair falling over his eyes, you’re inclined to agree with that observation. There’s a depth to his gaze that draws you in, a sad glimmer hiding behind the ardor. There’s never been any attachment outside of the bedroom. You’re not even sure if he considers you a friend.
Still, you wonder…
“Scara, do you—” You cut yourself off with a startled gasp, your nails curling into his shoulders. He’s holding you down by your hips, fucking into you like the world’s about to end. “S-Slow down. Wait, I—aah—oh!”
He sucks in a staggered breath through grit teeth, his jaw set firmly. “You’re never going to leave me.”
Your brain stalls out, and suddenly you’re not sure how to respond. He doesn’t lessen the brutal pace at which he thrusts, so you’re forced to piece together a half-coherent answer amidst your groans.
“N-Not anytime soon—mmh… Why? What’s up?”
Scaramouche lifts his head from your neck. A strange smile turns the corners of his lips up. “It’s not a question. I wasn’t giving you a choice.”
You blink back at him, lust-drunk and dazed. The horror edges in, slow and steady like invasive rot. It isn’t until he’s pinning your legs up by your ears to force you into another position that the implication finally catches up to you. You claw at his back with weak strokes, babbling futile protests against his mouth. In response, his cock throbs inside of you, pressed so deep in this position you fear the repercussions. He kisses you with much the same force, insistent on driving you into the mattress—on pinning you here until you finally submit. Until the last of your resolve withers away, stamped out and replaced with something agreeable.
“Even if you wanted to,” he says around a shaky laugh, seeming positively deranged, “you couldn’t.”
You think you should be worried, but you’re so stunned with this development that your brain can’t keep up. Embarrassingly, you cum with a strangled sort of cry, your pussy clenching tight. He hisses through his teeth, fucks you through the high of your orgasm, and then falls with you, his own climax fast like a flash.
You’re panting in the aftermath. What just happened?
Scaramouche keeps you plugged with his cock for as long as he possibly can before he’s sliding out, flaccid and spent. For now, you suspect, for there will certainly be more later if your wits aren’t about you by then.
“Pill,” you mumble, voice hoarse from crying. You shake him, hoping he’ll climb off of you and get to it. “Scaraaa…”
Oddly, for someone who never shows any vulnerability, he clings. “We’ve got time. I’ll get it. Don’t worry.”
You don’t believe him. Not when his hand strays to your stomach. His palm brushes over the area once. He sighs, wholly satisfied.
“We’ve got time…”
Nine months of it, in fact. But that goes unspoken. If not today, there’s always tomorrow. You know he won’t rest until then. Neither will you. Your heart is too big, too soft, for that lonely stray cat, and part of you wonders if he knows that.
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queerfables · 6 months
Text
Why all the crowd scenes look the same, aka: Something is WRONG in Soho
I'm not even gonna tease and draw this out because it's so cool it doesn't need the fanfare. Ready?
Season 2 takes place over the course of 5 days. During that time, most of the passersby in Soho - maybe even all of them - stay exactly the same. It's the same people every day, wearing the exact same clothes, and they wander through the neighbourhood in paths that don't make any sense. You won't be able to unsee it. I can't believe it's taken us this long to realise.
Don't believe me? Rewatch the scene from 2x03, I Know Where I'm Going where Shax confronts Crowley outside the bookshop, appearing in a series of different guises. Pay attention to the people going past.
I've marked out five people you see on screen when Crowley first exits the bookshop at 39:37:
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Numbers 1, 2 and 3 are following the path right. Number 4 follows the path left. Number 5 crosses the road.
Here the five people are again, at 40:19, when Crowley goes to return to the bookshop:
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Number 5 is still visible in the distance, in the direction she walked in. This makes sense! But numbers 1, 2, 3 and 4 are rounding the same corner they just passed. It's as though 1, 2 and 3 all decided to turn and head back the way they came just 40 seconds ago, and number 4 has circled the block to join them.
This on its own would be super weird, but they're not the only people to do that in this scene. The man in the purple sweater from the first picture crosses the road, then appears back next to the bookshop, then starts walking back the way he came again.
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Here's the part that made me absolutely certain, though. At 40:05, a man wearing an orange hoodie with blue sleeves walks past Crowley, who is heading towards the bookshop entrance.
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The camera cuts to a view from behind Crowley, and a moment later, at 40:08...
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He reappears in front of Crowley and walks past him again.
It's such a distinctive outfit, there's no mistaking it. They are absolutely fucking with the background characters and they are absolutely doing it on purpose.
Your turn. There are at least three other characters in this scene who pass by multiple times. Watch it again and try to spot them.
This scene is really chaotic and obvious, but the phenomena I'm talking about is much bigger than just one scene. Let's go back to the first thing I said: the background characters don't change. All our leads do. Maggie and Nina wear distinctive outfits, clearly demarcating each new day. Even Crowley and Aziraphale, who in season 1 were like cartoon characters with wardrobes full of identical clothing, vary their looks. Crowley changes his (very subtly) each day; Aziraphale is less rigid on timing, but he has a few different coats that he switches between. The background characters, on the other hand, wear the same outfits every single day. They walk by on the street but they never actually seem to have a destination. They sit in the coffee shop or pub and don't eat or drink anything, and nearly everyone leaves together exactly on closing time. It's eerie.
For reference's sake, here's a rough timeline of season 2, with pictures of Maggie and Nina's outfits to show the passing of time. I had to outsource this section because my post was too image heavy, lol. The main point I wanted to make is that five days go by.
Five days, and all the same faces keep showing up in the background, and almost none of them change their clothes. I'm not entirely sure what it means, but there's no way it's an accident. It might, in fact, be a game changer. To me this is proof positive that something is not as it seems. I've been a massive Clue skeptic, adamant that I'd only be convinced by the most unambiguous evidence, and honestly? This is enough to move the dials. It's too big for me to ignore. Whatever grand explanation of Good Omens we come up with has to account for this. I don't have it yet, but my current working theories are that Crowley and Aziraphale are under some seriously heavy surveillance, that time warping is involved, or that reality itself is not what it seems.
It would take a really long time for me to go through all of the background characters who turn up over and over but I do want to show you what I'm talking about. To wrap up, then, I'm going to pick out some memorable characters and walk you through a few of their appearances through the week. I highly recommend looking out for this yourself on your next rewatch and seeing how many other characters you can recognise.
Yellow Skirt
The first person I kept coming back to as being not quite right. You probably remember her from the first episode - she's the one who waves and walks past Maggie and Nina the night they're locked in together. Incidentally, she's also Person Number 3 in the scene with Shax.
Day 1 (2x01 - 36:20):
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Day 2 (2x02 - 42:03)
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Day 3 (2x03 - 06:36)
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Day 5 (2x06 - 30:00)
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Coolest Leather Jacket In The World
It's not so easy to recognise people wearing lots of nondescript dark colours, but I love his hair and his jacket, so he stood out to me. I think there might be a lot more people who are wearing fairly nondescript clothes who I just can't recognise from episode to episode.
Day 2 (2x02 - 16:44)
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Day 4 (2x04 - 41:20)
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Day 5 (2x06 - 29:20)
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Dressed In Mustard
Ms Mustard shows up everywhere. If you want to see what I mean about their paths not making sense, pay attention when she comes on screen, because she'll often show up a few times in succession and walk very purposefully to nowhere in particular. The thing that she is doing, essentially, is behaving like an extra in a tv show. Which of course she is, but you're supposed to make that invisible by not having the same person go back and forth in the same scene, or changing up their outfit each in-universe day to give the sense time is passing. Not doing that is a really deliberate choice.
Day 1 (2x01 - 22:37)
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Day 2 (2x02 - 42:03)
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Day 3 (2x03 - 01:49)
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Day 3 (2x03 - 37:07)
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Day 5 (2x06 - 29:59)
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Swishy Dress
This character shows up a lot in the first episode. I've struggled to find her in later episodes, though. None of the characters seem to follow the same patterns or show up to equal extents each day, which makes me think this isn't a straightforward time loop. I haven't actually cross referenced character appearances to in world times, though. Possibly this is a project for someone who's more across the time-related shenanigans than me.
Day 1 (2x01 - 22:43)
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Day 3 (2x03 - 07:01)
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Yellow Vest
I've only seen this guy a handful of times, always around the French restaurant. I wonder if there's significance to that.
Day 2 (2x02 - 41:06)
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Day 4 (2x05 - 12:49)
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Fuzzy Blue Coat
Another background character who shows up frequently. The blue doesn't stand out quite as much as the yellows and reds some characters wear, but it's very distinctive.
While we're getting a lot of shots of the street, it's worth noting that I'm pretty sure the vehicles we see are also just the same few cars repeating each day. A lot of them are in neutral silvers and monochrome, but there's a couple of blue cars, one red, and one black and white that I'm fairly sure I've seen over and over through the season.
Day 1 (2x01 - 22:45)
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Day 2 (2x02 - 42:04)
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Day 3 (2x03 - 02:00)
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Day 5 (2x06 - 40:10)
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Day 5 (2x06 - 48:56)
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Day 5 (2x06 - 50:06)
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One final note: Whatever this is, Nina's employee who you see in the background at the coffeeshop sometimes isn't affected by it. He's wearing different outfits each day. On the other hand, some of the other shopkeepers do seem affected. I'm fairly sure Mr Brown and Mrs Sandwich wear the same outfits a few different days, only changing because of Aziraphale at the ball.
And that's it! Thanks for reading and I hope your mind is blown as much as mine is.
EDIT:
Hey I don't mind anyone pointing out production reasons that this might be the case or disagreeing with my analysis (over-analysis, some might say 😉). Please be kind about it, though. I'm not ignorant of the practical limitations involved in film making, but some of these costumes were really distinctive in a way I thought might be intended to draw attention.
For those of you who do find this theory convincing, I feel I should mention that I was working under the assumption that this stuff would have taken a few days to film, even filming it all together. That would strongly suggest that the actors were deliberately costumed the exact same way over multiple days of shooting, which made me think it had to be purposeful. @coranax was kind enough to point out, though, that behind the scenes videos said the extras were filmed separately to the main actors because of Covid protocols. In that case, they could have done it in just one day and that weakens my confidence in its intentionality.
Finally, all of my points about the scene with Shax in 2x03 stand. That was not a case of accidental continuity errors, it was really elegantly choreographed to enhance the tension in the scene. I say that with confidence because the extras are doing exactly what Shax is doing: circling Crowley, appearing where he doesn't expect them, creating a whirlwind sense of being off balance and out of control. I think it's really cool and effective, whether there's a deeper meaning to it or not.
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violetrainbow412-blog · 11 months
Text
Hearts [S. R] part 2
Spencer Reid x fem!reader
word count: 3.9k
part 1!
summary: morning coffees become the special moments between you and Spencer, but you also discover that he may have more competition for his love than you expected.
N/A: I never thought this would be so well received and I honestly feel so happy! I am very grateful to all the people who requested a second part, I hope you like it and if you want to tell me something in the comments I will read it with pleasure!
people who might be interested: @c-m-stuff @no-soy-fer @synthsescape @bella-fics @cynbx
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That morning Spencer came to his desk with coffee in hand and set it carefully to one side, the sight of his scrawled name looming large throughout.
Spencer <3
What did that mean? It was his name, that's obvious, but it was written with such a careful and clean line that it was very beautiful to admire and the heart drawn next to it was what didn’t quite add up in the whole thing. Reid knew that it was an ideogram used to express the idea of affection or love, so the most logical conclusion was that you were trying to communicate a feeling of that kind, but then he wondered: was it affection between friends? a simple show of affection, he supposed. Nothing further, surely it could not be anything else.
There were days when you and he barely saw each other, as the team had to go out to handle cases in the field and you stayed behind to do literally whatever you could do to complete your service hours, but every morning without fail you looked for him to deliver the long-awaited coffee. You were keeping your promise and for three days you arrived with two cups on the tray, one clean and the other labeled for him: Reid, Spence, Doctor R., all titles followed by a drawing of a heart. When Friday rolled around and you handed him what he thought would be his last cup, you decided to propose a deal.
"Today I was thinking that I could buy your coffee permanently, if you want” you exclaimed kindly, while you watched him from the chair that you had pulled to sit next to him. Some mornings when there wasn’t so much movement you would stay there to drink a few shots of your coffee and share a small moment of the day "It's on my way here and it's obvious that you like it"
“Oh, I… I couldn't even think about it, no. I would take too much advantage of you"
“You're going to pay me back, Reid. I'll just bring it” you laughed, watching him turn red to the ears while he drank a little to try to mask it.
"Then, I'd love to," he exclaimed with a tight-lipped smile. He was a little excited to continue having excuses to talk to you every day and, above all, to drink the delicious coffee that he had already gotten used to.
"Although I'm running out of ideas, to be honest," you said amused, because that day the cup didn’t have any inscription due to that lack of creativity. But as by the work of fate, an idea came to your mind, so you smiled from ear to ear while you took a black marker from your friend's desk and took the cup from his hand. Spencer looked at you carefully and curiously while you were writing and just when you finished Hotch called you from the other side of the tables "I have to go, don't miss me too much" you murmured, handing him the glass and then winking at the boy, who in response only awkwardly raised his hand.
Once you left, he looked at what you had written, less neatly than the other times, and felt himself grinning like a fool:
My fav agent and again that damn heart.
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“Y/N”
"Yeah?" you asked, looking up at another of your fellow interns. You had a room where everyone could stay for a while to work on their own business, but on this occasion, curiously, only women had gathered at the table, there were about five of you in the entire building. Among them Jennifer, a girl you liked very much and with whom you could presume to have something like a friendship, and for some strange reason there was also Victoria.
"Can I ask you a personal question?"
"Huh… yeah, I guess" you muttered a bit confused, and even though you didn't know the girl she smiled in your direction.
“Is that brown-haired guy you talk to every morning your boyfriend?”
“Spencer?” you asked, widening your eyes at the surprise with which the question had taken you. You expected her to ask what band you listened to the most, your favorite food, or some other stupid thing, but not that. Now all the girls' attention was on you, including Victoria's inquisitive scowl and Jennifer's amused look “I wouldn't say that” 
"And do you think you can introduce me?" she said with more enthusiasm than she intended, and they all laughed collectively.
“I get second in line”
"Girls, girls..." Jennifer intervened and you knew that from that moment the topics of the internship would take a back seat “He may not be her boyfriend now, but that doesn't mean she doesn't want him to be”
"Jenn!"
"Am I lying?" she sneered “You smile every time you see him and you two look so in love whispering to each other every morning. Also, a week ago I saw you go out together at night”
"Jenn," you insisted, muttering to her in the hope that she would notice that you wanted her to shut up. It wasn't that you were ashamed of being associated with him, you just didn't want to spread wrong rumors that might embarrass him.
“How come he's already an agent? He looks very young”
“It's because he's a prodigy, duh. He’s as attractive as he’s intelligent”
"I imagine that being such a smart man he knows perfectly the weak points of a woman" another girl murmured, joining the conversation "If you know what I mean"
“For now we are just friends. That's all" you said trying to end the conversation, completely embarrassed that such a personal matter had ended up as the talk of all the female interns of the FBI. It was supposed to be a serious job and you guys looked like gossipy high school girls.
"Maybe he's waiting for someone better," Victoria said into the air, a venomous tone permeating every word.
"Anyway, if you give up, can you get me his number?" insisted the first girl. You nodded just so as not to break his illusion, but you knew very well that Spencer didn't use a phone beyond what was necessary for work.
Even though you yourself had told him that surely many girls liked him, you didn't expect that he really had admirers so close and to be honest a pang of jealousy invaded you. Victoria was the most obvious of them all, but you knew that being college girls they were more likely to admire the masculine charm of perhaps the youngest member of the FBI. They too were young and beautiful, but you chose to trust that you had the upper hand in winning the man's affections.
You tried as hard as you could to concentrate on your tasks, but now that his name had come up it was hard to think of anything but him. Spencer wasn't a very expressive guy, but you knew that he was comfortable with you or else he wouldn't seek you out or agree to talk to you like you did, although clearly that didn't ensure that he was attracted to you. Maybe he just saw you as a good friend.
At night, when you were about to go home, you tried to look for him so you could see him again with the excuse of saying goodbye, but you were surprised when you saw that he was talking to Victoria in an already empty section. Curiosity to know what they were talking about invaded you and you stood where you were, squinting your eyes to try to read their lips. Reid wasn't participating too much in the chat, you'd even say he looked awkward, but she was shamelessly flirting with him. Perhaps the sudden change in attitude that she had had was what your friend had missed so much and just when you thought of approaching to go save him from the situation, she stood on her toes and crashed her lips against his, leaving you standing just in your place and completely in shock.
You didn't expect her to dare to do something like that, but the reaction he had left you even more surprised, because, although it wasn't so favorable, he didn't seem bothered by the show of affection he had just received either. He just stood in front of her, looking her up and down as if he were analyzing her.
You didn't want to stay there any longer and almost instantly you turned around to walk out the front door, hoping that this had meant absolutely nothing to him and the next day you could look him in the face without feeling the jealousy boiling in your veins.
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It was almost time for dismissal when Spencer remembered that he had a file to go through that he'd ignored all morning, and he cursed himself a little for leaving things until the last minute. His coworkers told him that he could finish it the next morning, but he knew that if he did that he probably wouldn't have time to drink coffee with you so he preferred to stay a little later there.
Little by little the offices emptied and when there was almost no one left, he finally finished, feeling the discomfort of the recurring pain in his back due to the bad position in which he sat. He put his things away, put on his coat, and slung his briefcase over his shoulder, ready to go back to his apartment, but a person got in the way when he was about to cross the hall. Due to exhaustion and seeing that it was a female body he assumed it would be you, but when he paid more attention, he noticed that it wasn’t even remotely possible that the ironed black hair was yours.
"Doctor Reid"
"Miss Evans" he greeted her, without losing cordiality, but not with too much emotion either.
"What are you doing here so night?"
"Job. There's nothing else to do around here at this hour,” he said without looking at her. But the girl was determined to get that one-night stand that she was sure you had, lie as it was.
“It's a shame, but I know a bar near here that you might like if you want to have a little fun”
“Bars are noisy and are one of the biggest sources of infection that can exist. Sweat, alcohol, and unknown fluids permeate the environment and it is very probable that the consumption of drugs affects not only those who consume them but also those who are close to them, so I prefer to decline your invitation" he exclaimed, hoping that this explanation would be enough to make it clear to this woman that he wasn't interested.
“So you're more of hanging out in the apartment? I have a lot of great things in mine, including a jacuzzi."
“Jacuzzies are unsanitary” he insisted. If he proposed, he would know that he would find a valid excuse for whatever plan she might suggest.
"What a killjoy, Agent Reid” she giggled, but he wasn't too amused by any of it. "Do you ever have fun?"
"I think my concept of fun and yours diverge a lot" he murmured, still not looking at her directly and ready to end the conversation.
Spencer was about to leave when she raised herself to his height and in a quick movement that caught him off guard, she smashed her lips against his. As she turned away from her the man froze completely in his place, looking at her from head to toe as if she were some strange natural specimen.
"What if I promise there will be more of that?" she asked, in a last-ditch attempt, faking a honeyed voice. He was going to respond when there was something that forced him to look in the direction of the exit door, where someone else was already walking. From the pattern of colored stripes on the jacket he knew it was definitely you and if it was you then you probably witnessed the entire exchange. He felt the urge to run after you to justify himself for something he hadn't even done, not knowing why he was embarrassed or worried that you'd seen that. “Come on, are you really going to say no to all this?”
"Listen to me, Victoria. I understand if having power over others gives you pleasure because you are the least noticed and recognized member of the family, or if you enjoy saying hurtful things to people to feed your own insecurities, but I ask that you please stay away from me and stop trying whatever you're trying. I don't like you, you're a bad person and I won't allow you to kiss me without my wanting it, or to make your sexual advances that won't get you anywhere. So again, I say don't bother me again” he said and without waiting for any answer he walked out of sight of her. Even if he had stayed, Victoria had her ego so hurt that she didn't think of anything to say back and instead she just let helpless tears fill her eyes, followed by a gesture of a tantrum.
When Spencer came downstairs he couldn't find you anywhere and the anxiety in his stomach only increased, wishing he had misrecognized the person who had left so it wasn't about you. The matter didn't keep him awake, of course, but when he noticed the next morning that you weren't at his desk, he thought it was reason enough to worry. Worse still when he noticed that you had left a lonely cup on the table, with absolutely no adorable titles decorating it. It made him feel so guilty, like he somehow knew that you were upset because you'd seen Victoria kiss him the night before and he wasn't worthy of your affection anymore.
Even Hotch noticed that he was more distracted than usual and although he had already seen your exchanges, he thought it would be better not to intervene in anything that had to do with young love. Being a cupid was a more difficult task than the one he already fulfilled at the BAU. So when night came and he didn't look at you anywhere, anxiety was already eating him to the ground, wishing he could have your phone number to at least comfort himself with hearing your voice. Going to your apartment was something he considered, but then it became unthinkable because he didn't even know how you would react.
Victoria became less of a concern as she seemed to get the message perfectly and every time during the day that he crossed her path she just looked away, totally offended.
But when the same situation arose twice, he felt that something was wrong and he wasn't going to endure a third time. It was then that Spencer left the house early that morning to stop by a bakery and buy a couple of fresh sweet buns, hoping that this time you were expecting him. But his disappointment was greater when he saw that once again there was only the bare cup of coffee.
"Didn't you see Y/N?" he asked Elle when he arrived, nervously fiddling with the paper bag he was holding in his hands.
“No, she just left your coffee and left, but I don't know where. She seemed pretty rushed”
Spencer inwardly cursed and sighed in frustration, until a few seconds later he caught sight of you on the other side of the building, carrying a stack of folders and talking on the phone. He didn't hesitate for a moment before running (at first, then he slowed down a bit as he remembered the incessant times Hotch had scolded him for it) towards you so he could finally talk to you.
“Y/N,” he said softly as he reached your side, and he took the bright smile you gave him as you turned to look at him as a good sign.
"Wait a minute" you mouthed, still answering the call you had on the line, and when you hung up you finally turned your attention to him "Hey, Reid. Good morning"
"I bought you this" he murmured, showing you the bag with food inside, and you almost moaned with happiness.
“Food is what I need most to survive the day”
"What are you doing?"
“Two days ago, your boss Gideon thought it was a good idea to make me his personal secretary. So right now, I'll do everything he asks me to do” you snorted, obviously exhausted by the work you had done and by the ones you surely would have to do.
It clicked in the boy's mind and then he understood that this was the reason you hadn't seen it, not because you were angry. Relief ran down the length of his spine.
"Really?"
“I don't even think that's legal, you know? I'm an intern, they don't pay me a penny and they take advantage of me like I earn the same as the fucking president” you complained. Until then he noticed that you were struggling to hold the papers and he decided to stretch out his hands to help you carry them, like a real gentleman "Thank you"
“Where should you take them? I'll accompany you” he offered. You led him through the halls to a file store that even he doubted he knew about, and explained that your job for the next several weeks would be to sort and categorize the case files for a more efficient process of future searches.
“I'm seriously thinking about giving this whole damn thing up and selling hotdogs in some park or whatever. I would be happier and I would earn almost the same” you joked, raising your arms to stretch your back a bit like a cat that had just woken up. The place was completely alone, silent and the lighting was so dim that it even looked gloomy “Did you get my coffees?"
"Yes, I did," he muttered, "I thought you were mad at me though”
"Why?"
"Because..." he hesitated for a moment if it would be wise to mention what he thought was the reason for your anger, until he realized that saying it out loud would simply sound absurd. There shouldn't be a reaction on your part to the facts “you weren't there. And you didn't write anything”
"Oh, I was in a hurry. I'm sorry,” you sincerely apologized. While you were talking to him you thought that you could start to categorize the documents that you would have just brought and you got to it, hoping that he wouldn't interpret that as a sign that you wanted him to leave; luckily Spencer rushed to your side to help you as soon as he could.
"Alright. I'm glad to know you're not upset."
"If I had known that you loved my notes so much, it would have taken me a few seconds" you smiled and when you turned your head you noticed that you were too close to him, or he to you, rather.
You were silent for a few moments until he couldn't take it anymore. He needed to know your opinion about what you had or hadn't seen that night.
"Victoria looked me up the other day," he said disinterestedly. You smiled victoriously for not having to be the first to mention it, even though the matter was slowly burning inside you.
“Oh, I know. I looked at you talking to her” you exclaimed bitterly, without taking your eyes off the files.
"And she too... huh..."
"Calm down" you interrupted him, taking a bunch that were already ordered and moving away from him to take them to a filing cabinet "I saw that too"
“It was so strange”
"It was pathetic," you said without any embarrassment. You finally looked up and noticed some fear in him, as if he thought you meant that he was pathetic "It wasn't even a good kiss"
"And what would one be like?" he replied without thinking. You stifled a laugh and looked at him kindly.
“That's not something I can explain to you, Reid. I would have to show you"
“Well…” he said, finally breaking away from your gaze and staring at you with those big beautiful hazel eyes.
You were surprised that he wasn't averse to it because you honestly didn't expect to achieve anything with that sentence, you just wanted to tease him a bit. Spencer kept looking at you in silence for a few seconds and you knew what that look meant, or at least you thought you did. Those pleading eyes only screamed one thing: show me. Kiss me.
You walked enough steps to close the distance and stand right in front of him, looking down at him with a smile of pure mischief.
“Well, what?"
“Nothing, nothing, I just… I thought you could enlighten me a bit on the subject. As unbelievable as it may seem, I am very uninformed about the standard of what is considered a good or bad kiss” he admitted. Even flirting he sounded like a walking book.
You weren't going to give him time to regret it so you took him by the lapels of his formal shirt and with a yank you pulled him to you. Spencer's breath caught at how sudden the contact had been, and you heard him release the trapped air over your lips, giving you the chance to deepen the kiss. At first he was tense, but after a few seconds you felt his shoulders relax considerably and that's when you slid your hands down the length of his neck until you reached to hold his cheeks. One of your hands left that position only to guide the man's hands to your waist and once you were in this way you took the opportunity to push your body against his a little more, with your torso attached to his. There was no mention of how the tip of your tongue experimentally flicked across his lips and made him sigh audibly.
Spencer nearly whimpered as the heat from your body left his.
“We just shared approximately 80 million bacteria” you blurted out, but he was too flushed and shocked to corroborate denying the information. Just to play with him you decided to give him another kiss, shorter and louder than the previous one "And you just had a good kiss"
You didn't wait for any reaction before separating completely and that made him come out of the trance he was in, still not believing what had just happened. He couldn't even say anything before your phone started ringing with a call.
"I'll see you later?"
"It's up to you," you said with a smile. Spencer nodded and not knowing what else to do he decided to walk out before he could embarrass himself "Oh, and Spence…”
"Yeah?" he answered, trying not to let you notice how it affected him that you called him that way.
“Do you remember the other day when I told you that surely hundreds of girls liked you?” you asked and when he nodded a couple of hairs got messy "Although I'm sure it's true, on that occasion I was only talking about me" you confessed. You couldn't ignore the ringing sound any longer or you'd lose it, so you picked up the hook and started a business conversation, but not before winking at him as a farewell.
Spencer came out of it trying to look as normal as possible, but he still couldn't figure out how he'd have the strength to work objectively for the rest of the day when he'd just gotten such a good kiss from the prettiest girl he'd ever met.
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roguerogerss · 4 months
Text
The President; ‘Something Sweet.’
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Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader
W/C: 2.1k
Warnings: SMUT!!
(HEY! this is the second part to The President, part 3 will be out soon so plssss stay tuned, hope u luv it, luv you, bye) (requests r open! send me stuff here)
-
“Where did you go?"
Clemensia snatched your arm and stopped you in your place. You'd been trying to ignore all of the girls, weaving your way in and out of the crowd, accepting the odd congratulations or hug as you went, you thought you might find Tigris and stick by her until at least dinner time. You wanted nothing more than to be at home.
"Oh." You started but stopped short. If you even stuttered you knew she'd know, your legs were shaking and, if she looked at you closely, she'd be able to see that your hair wasn't nearly as smooth as it was an hour ago, and your lipstick had smudged over your chin and you'd spent longer than you should've trying to wipe it off. "Just had a few photos to be taken, Coryo wanted them out of the way."
Clemensia turned you to face her, gripping your forearms as she eyed you suspiciously. You held your breath a moment, she wasn't the type to keep her mouth shut. "Of course. Photos."
She was smirking at you, and you nearly hung your head in shame out of pure instinct. You teetered backwards slightly in your heels, and Clemensia barely stifled a laugh. "Did these photos involve you being bent over something?"
"Clemmie!" You burst out, hands clamping over your mouth, cheeks burning red. And then you couldn't help but laugh. "Don't say anything, please."
"I won't!" She laughed and took hold of your hand, starting to lead you back towards the rest of your school friends. “I didn’t say anything when you’d disappear for every free hour we had in school, did I?”
“Clemensia!”
Okay! I won’t say anything. Promise. It's your day, and Coryo's President now. I can’t say anything."
You laughed as you approached the other girls, Clemmie was your friend, as much as you hated to admit it, and you did actually like spending time with her, after you got over the initial idea of it. The other girls, however, were a different story.
"Where did you guys go?" Lysistrata whined when you rejoined the circle. She wasn’t the worst of the bunch, but, god, could she moan about anything. "Felix had an interview and they basically said that he actually would've won, had Doctor Gaul's vote not counted-"
"Well, her vote did count." Clemensia defended and sent you a small smile. "Why dwell on it, Lyssie?"
"Because it's unfair." Livia practically snarled, lip curled upwards like a growling dog. "Coriolanus will be president until he either steps down, or dies off. And we all know he won't step down, so none of us will even have a chance at it."
"You wouldn't have a chance at anything anyway, Livia. Festus is a slob." You snapped. You'd remembered why you so hated going to school, and then University with these girls. Livia especially always seemed to bring out the worst in you. You heard Clemensia sigh, and Lysistrata sucked in a breath to be held.
Livia looked as though she was about to lunge for you. "He is not a slob!" She threw her hands in the air and started to say something else, when Clemensia butted in, to avoid a public argument between two powerful men's wives.
"Ladies!" She held her arms out between the two of you in a calming manner, and you almost scoffed and walked away from them, but you knew you had to be here. For Coryo, you thought. "Let's just all be friends, okay? You managed it for seventeen years before today, you can certainly last another two hours."
"Oh, look!" Lysistrata pointed excitedly at the grand hall, drawing the attention of the conversation to something else entirely. "I think we've to go for dinner, now. Aren't you all excited? It'll be lovely."
You were definitely excited. The University provided three square meals a day, if you stayed long enough - you always did - but, since you'd graduated, it had been back to Tigris' cabbage soup and the occasional luxury like a loaf of bread or some beef mince, if Coriolanus helped Doctor Gaul with something she believed warranted an extra payout. The food was guaranteed to be something special, and, even better, you could leave your school friends behind for at least an hour and sit by Coryo instead.
An avox appeared by your small group, and gestured for you all to follow them, leading the gathering of wives to the dinner hall first. Clemensia, Livia, and Lysistrata were positioned at a table together, each one chair apart from the other, and you almost laughed out loud when Livia's scowl deepened further and Clemmie sighed disappointedly at her space between the other two.
After seating the three other women, the avox gestured for you to follow them even further, to a long, rectangular table overlooking a sea of smaller round ones. The hall really was magnificent, all marble and hardwood, a string quartet playing in the far corner, and Coriolanus' Grandma'am's roses decorating each table, in small glass vases. You smiled at the touch, assuming it was Tigris' doing, Coryo would love it.
"Thank you." You nodded to the avox as they tapped a chair for you to sit in. The table was laid with a white tablecloth and lace runner, and six plates, with dainty little place cards placed neatly atop them. The ones on either side of you read Tigris Snow and President Coriolanus Snow. You assumed the one next to Coryo would've been for the Grandma'am and the other two chairs for other government officials.
The room started to fill up with people, celebrities, guests, reporters, game makers. You tried to make out anyone familiar in the sea of people, but faces blurred into one another, distant chatter became almost deafening, and you found that, not only could you not decipher one person from another, but you'd given yourself a headache trying to do so.
The chair beside you pulled back, startling you from your squint-eyed staring, and then Tigris appeared, beaming and touching a hand to your shoulder. "He did it!" She cried and you embraced, squealing as you did so.
“I know.” You mused. “Did you do the roses?”
Tigris nodded, a satisfied smile crossing her face. “Yes, do you like them? I thought it’d be nice, something familiar.”
“They’re beautiful, he’ll love them.” You plucked one of the stems from the vase in front of you, inspecting the perfect flower, so familiar. You’d always loved the Grandma’am’s roses, almost as much as Coryo did.
You were only able to talk for a moment, Tigris complimenting the way you'd done his hair, you gushing over his suit. You loved Tigris, really. But the national anthem began playing, and then there were cameras on you both and you tried to remember to sit up straight and keep your chin down.
The entire room erupted into cheers and claps and cries as Coriolanus entered, looking dazzling as ever. You even noticed Livia giving a hand, which sent a sense of satisfaction through you. "There he is! Our brand new President, it's Coriolanus Snow!" Lucky Flickerman had appeared out of nowhere again, and you could just hear him over the sound of the crowd. "And he's making his way over to his gorgeous first lady! I heard they've only been married three days."
You stifled a laugh at Lucky's overly dramatic performance, and then you felt almost self conscious, seeing all of the people looking towards you, the cameras pointed in your direction. Tigris touched a gentle hand to your arm to soothe you, and you just about managed a grin as Coryo approached.
He sat down next to you and you found his hand placed on the small of your back, thumb rubbing soothing circles just beside your spine. You let out a sigh of relief and smiled until the cameras turned away and the starting course of the meal served. "That was good, darling." Coryo spoke quietly. "Are you okay? You seem nervous."
"I am nervous." You turned toward him and placed a hand on his knee. "I'll get over it, though. First day jitters."
"Of course you will." And then he leaned down to whisper in your ear, hand creeping up your thigh under the cover of the tablecloth. "What do you think I could do to calm you down, hm?"
"Coryo." You hid a small smile and wrapped your fingers around his wrist. "People are watching."
"All the more fun." You turned to face him, noticing the half-concealed grin playing on his lips. Your eyes flickered out towards the crowd and cameras, guests were all chattering and eating, but the cameras stayed put, and Lucky continued his constant commentary of you. You imagined him, broadcasting to the entirety of Panem, that the brand new President was fingering his wife at the dinner table.
Coryo's hand wandered up even further, underneath your skirt, into your underwear. You sucked in a breath and made a sort of uncomfortable grunt, biting back a whine as two familiar fingers pressed into you. You gripped onto the tablecloth and Tigris turned to you, concern in her eyes. "Are you okay?" She asked and you nodded, too enthusiastically.
"I'm okay." You answered, but you knew your face wasn't communicating what you said, and Tigris' hand was pressed to your forehead before you could tell her again.
"You're hot, have you drank enough water today? And you're flushed, too-" Tigris was in the middle of pouring some water into the glass in front of you when Coryo cut in.
"She's okay, Tigris." He smiled at his cousin. "Wasn't feeling too well last night, were you, love?"
You shook your head, trying to act convincing while Coriolanus' fingers continued their assault inside of you. "Oh, honey! Well, get some rest tonight, okay?"
And then Tigris had turned back to her conversation with the Grandma'am, and you made a mental note to continue the narrative that you were sick, at least in front of Tigris. And then you noticed that Lucky was staring right at the two of you, massive grin on his face, as always, and the camera beside him was fixated on your table.
"Coryo, the cameras!" You hissed, but he silenced you, curling his fingers against your sensitive spot. You made another strangled sound, but Tigris didn't turn around this time, too invested in conversation with the Grandma'am.
"Shh," Coryo comforted you, nuzzling his forehead against your cheek in a way that could've been mistaken for a loving gesture for the cameras. "Let them see, honey. Just be quiet for me. My good girl."
He curled his fingers faster inside of you, so that you had to clamp your hand on your thigh to stop your legs from shaking aggressively, every now and again he'd lean down and say something like, "You're doing so well." or "So good for me." and your head would spin.
"Coryo," You whispered, a breathy moan falling from your lips, almost loud enough for everyone at the table to hear. "I'm getting close, you know how loud I get."
Dessert was being served, now, and you were almost glad that the avoxes didn't have tongues, because you were certain that the one placing your lemon tart in front of you had made a strange face whilst doing so.
Coryo's fingers brushed your sensitive spot once again, and you felt his hand on your back as it arched off of the chair, dimming the appearance of your arousal to the public. "I know. Not going to let you finish, not yet."
He pressed a short kiss to your temple and then pulled his fingers out of you, at which you huffed and pouted, he felt his cock throb, seeing you looking so bratty.
"Coryo!" You whined, bottom lip still jutting out. "That's not fair."
"Isn't it?" He asked, smirk playing on his face. He made you watch as he looked you straight in the eye, lifted his fingers to his lips - still glistening with your slick - and sucked them clean. "Mmh, so sweet, my girl. Now, I want you to go home, familiarise yourself with the mansion - you'll love it, by the way - and wait for me to get there. No touching yourself, you know the punishment for that."
A small smile grew on your face as you nodded. Coryo kissed your face, picked up your dessert fork and handed it to you, gesturing to the food in front of you. As you took your first bite, he slid his own across to the Senator sat next to him. The larger man looked at him with confusion in his eyes.
"You can take mine, already had something sweet."
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whateveriwant · 2 months
Text
No thoughts, just Punk!Simon.
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Punk!Simon who dresses like he shops exclusively at Hot Topic. We're talking band t-shirts, combat boots, leather anything he can get his hands on. His style is bold, accessories maximized, and his entire wardrobe can be condensed into one of three colors: black, gray, and dark gray.
Punk!Simon who likes to wear lots of jewelry. Thick chains, bulky rings, decorative pins pressed into his jackets. His pieces are mostly silver and always real, none of that fake, turn your skin green shit. Keep him far away from metal detectors because he will set them off.
Punk!Simon who listens to only the grungiest of grunge rock music. Ask him for recommendations and he's spouting off six or seven bands that are so underground they may as well reside in the Earth's mantle. Don't leave him in charge of the playlist when driving together unless you want a bad case of tinnitus for the next four hours.
Punk!Simon who’s tatted up to high heaven. You thought he only had his left sleeve done, until you saw him working out without his shirt on one day. Turns out it doesn't just stop at his shoulder, but continues downward, wrapping around his trunk like vines of black and gray ivy.
Punk!Simon who's sporting more than one set of piercings. You ask him how many he has and (with a smirk) he tells you six, and you try to take a mental tally of the ones you've seen. 1) eyebrow 2) industrial 3) nostril 4) snake bites 5) areolas 6) . . . 6) . . . . . Huh. Where's the sixth?
Punk!Simon who experiments with a little body modification. Not just the normal piercings and tattoos, but things many people would consider to be on the more extreme side. Stretched lobes, sharpened canines, . . . bifurcated tongue? 👀
Punk!Simon who, on an uncharacteristically unmasked day, grabs your attention as you enjoy a round of drinks with friends. One minute you were sitting there, chatting, just minding your business, and the next your gaze was locked onto Simon's tongue as it darted out from in between his plump lips. You tried not to let your eyes linger, but you couldn't help it. You'd never seen something like that before in person. A tongue split right down the center, cut with surgical precision from the looks of it. It had clearly been done on purpose, not an accident or deformity, but you hadn't expected to see it as you watched him lick away a bourbon droplet from the corner of his mouth. As you stare, said mouth then curves slyly, impish, into a grin just shy of wicked. The movement makes your eyes dart upwards, where they meet Simon's, and he's giving you a look that says one thing: Caught you.
With that taunting expression, Simon turns in his seat, plants his elbows on the table, and blocks out the rest of your group as he asks lowly, “Somethin’ the matter, sweet’eart?”
His tone makes you startle, eyes rounding in surprise, mouth fluttering open and closed like a flailing fish. “N-No, I was– I– You– I–”
“Wha's wrong?” His brow furrows, teasing. “Cat got your tongue?”
Oh, the bastard.
But the reminder has your gaze dropping back to his lips unthinkingly, almost like you secretly wish he'll grant you another peek for your sick fascination.
He doesn't, keeps that serpentine tongue tucked within the confines of his jaw, but it's like he can read your mind because his smile curves further, drawing even closer to you as he says, “Curious?”
It's like the rattling of a deadly snake's tail, the way he hisses out the question. It means to warn you of danger ahead, of expert predation, of total and utter annihilation should you let him take a bite.
You drag your eyes back up to his smoky ones, half expecting to find slitted pupils that speak of poison. There isn't, just a mirthful quirk to his brow, and a solitary nod is all you can offer him in return.
“‘S alright.” He tips his chin in encouragement. “Go on, then. Ask.”
Another glance to his lips as you rummage through the dense brush that entangles your brain. Plucking one of the first you find, you ask, “Does it hurt?” eyes moving back to his.
That earns a little chuckle from Simon, an even smaller shake of the head. “Not now that it's healed,” he tells you truthfully, cheek dimpled in amusement. A beat passes, him waiting for another of your questions, and when you don't conjure one up, he jokes, “That it?” Clearly, he expected a barrage.
You take a second, searching for another, then simply, “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why'd you do it?”
Simon raises his shoulder in a shrug. “Dunno. Wanted to do somethin’ fun; different I s’pose,” his reasoning is as carefree as his voice sounds. He leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. “Plus, ‘s more useful than you think,” he tacks on at the end, something mischievous glinting in his eye. Deception maybe. Bait definitely.
Useful, he says? You doubt it. Having a second tongue sounds like a burden honestly. You'd have to learn how to talk, eat, and drink all over again, just like when you were a small child. But if he said so, and with such confidence, then it begs the question: “How?”
How is having a second tongue useful?
Throughout your entire conversation, Simon's maintained steady eye contact with you, his focus never faltering from yours. But now, as your brow creases in confusion, Simon breaks away, lids lowering as he gazes down at the floor. He rolls a thought around his head for a moment, that cheeky look still etched into his face. When he huffs an amused breath through his nose, it only deepens his smirk that much more, and then slowly, painfully unrushed, his eyes rake up, up, up your body, until settling on yours once again.
The look he gives you now is dark, a grin like the devil’s as he peers up at you. The tip of his forked tongue pokes out as it makes another swipe across his bottom lip.
No thoughts, except for Punk!Simon who takes you back to his place and shows you just how useful two tongues can be.
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screaminglygay · 5 months
Text
Warm welcome
pairings: kate bishop x fem!reader, avengers x reader (platonic)
summary: after 3 months of being gone, you finaly came back home, but there is a new addiction to the avengers, will the two of you come along?
warnings: new series so very very slow burn!, some swearing, bad grammar possibly (i hope not hehe), alcohol consumption, bad jokes, reader being little mess, that’s it for this part I think:)
word count: 5.5k
an: new series!! since i got back into being very obsessed with miss bishop, so i decided to start a new series, its gonna be long, cuz my ideas for this went crazy!
an2: and yes, this is an universe where everyone is alive, most of them are 100% happy and it´s just a safe space, come at me as you want, but i just need them to be happy. that´s all, thank you.
an3: yup i am back! so sorry! work, school and sickness is just not it. ill answer all of you soon! thank you for support, i see youuu!
!MDNI!
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After long time away from you found family, you finaly came back home. It was supposed to be quick mission in Morocco, but after you found out that this is something bigger than some usual drug trafficking you had to stay. Not just for Fury´s sake, but for your own too.
And that´s how you stayed over 3 months in some old motel, that looked like a typical horror hounted house, alone. But that was a past, you´re currently standing infront of the main entrance of the Avengers Compound, ready to open the door and see everyone.
As you open the door the voice of a F.R.I.D.A.Y., the Stark´s AI. "Welcome home, miss (Y/L/N), should I contact the others that you are home?"
"No, no. I want it to be surprise. And (Y/N) is just fine, like I´ve said before, many times." you smile.
As you traverse the hallways, anticipation builds with every passing moment, knowing that you're drawing closer to that cherished destination—the main living room. The anticipation turns to a gentle excitement, a feeling of returning to a sanctuary that holds a piece of your soul.
And finally, as you reach the threshold of the living room, a soft sigh escapes your lips, and a smile graces your face. The sight of the familiar couch, but most importatnly the sight of your favorite people.
"That´s the question, do you put cereals or milk first?" you hear Pietro´s voice, smiling at the fact that he didn´t change a bit, still the same goof. Three months are not so long, but at the same time everything can be different in three months.
You watch him for a little bit and then you dediced to speak up. "Everyone who puts milk first is total psychopat," you calmly say as all of their faces turns to look at you.
"Oh my god! (Y/N)!" Pietro says and in a second he´s lifting you up and pulling you into a tight squeezing hug.
"Hey Speedy," you chuckle as he´s crushing your body. "Pietro... too much, ouch." He let go of you.
"Sorry, sorry. It´s been like what?" Pietro laughs and puts you down.
"3 motnhs, 17 days," you look at your phone, "4 hours, 18 minutes and few seconds." Pietro laughs at your comment.
"It was a long time, let´s just say that." You can hear another sokovian accent, this time the voice belongs to a woman. Wanda.
She hugs you close, hints of warm vanilla and soft lavender dance around you. It's a scent that feels like homecoming, wrapping you in familiarity and a sense of belonging. You smile into the touch, as you felt that the touch is soothing the ache of missed embraces. You feel the gentle warmth of her hug infusing into your being, fulfilling a longing for touch that has been starved for far too. "Hi." is all you can mumble, while hugging the girl.
"Hi," she mumbles back, no words needed for the two of you, both of you missed eachother like lungs misses the air. To be fair, Wanda was the first person you grew close to, when you´ve joined the Avengers. She was quiet, but so well spoken at the same time. You never had to explain things for her to understand you. And the same went the other way around.
The rest of the Avengers come into the living room and all of their faces lit up, when they saw you. All of them are here. Except for Carol, who is probably somewhere in the space, you haven´t seen her in almost half a year, since she had off world mission even before you went to Morocco.
You shared many hugs with all of them, and you didn´t mind it a little bit. You were so touch starved after being alone, that you hold everyone closer for at least a few seconds and all of them did the same. Suprisingly even Yelena didn´t said anything, like she always did.
You scan the whole room, chcecking if you didn´t missed anyone and you in fact did. But the person is not someone you recognize. There is this tall, dark hair girl, who looks pretty much the same age as you. She looks effortlessly stylish in her well-fitted blue jeans paired with a cozy gray sweater. The jeans accentuate her figure while the relaxed elegance of the sweater gives off a vibe of comfort. The girl looks rather awkward as everyone greets you. Not that she wouldn´t know who you are, she does, she heard a lot of stories about you, almost like she knew who you are, but you don´t know anything at all and that makes her feel awkward.
You look at her and smile, not knowing what to do yourself, so Clint steps in, "(Y/N), this is Kate, our new help, Kate this is (Y/N), our old help." You nod at Clint´s words and extent your hand for her to shake it.
"Pleasure to finaly meet you, (Y/N)." Kate smiles her hand has a firm grip.
"Nice to meet you too, Kate." You smile, maybe too much for a normal meeting. You have to admit she is georgous and her completly blue eyes are making you forget where you are right now.
"(Y/F/N)!" Natasha storms into the living room, her voice a sharp, controlled fury that cuts through the air, making you swallow... hard. "When did you arrived?" Even thoug she was mad for not knowing you came back, she was very relieved that you are okay and alive. As her hands wrap around you, you let out a squek and you froze knowing what comes afterwards. "Are you hurt?"
"I´m fine," you quickly say as the rest of the team watch you closely.
"I didn´t ask you, how are you, I´ve asked you if you´re hurt." Her eyes scans your face where she sees the little cuts you have on your face.
"A little bit." You mumble and Natasha raises her eyebrow. "I might have or might have not fallen out of the third floor, " you mumble again.
"YOU FELL FROM THE THIRD FLOOR?!" Natasha is basically yelling at you right now.
"Kinda," sometimes you were terrified of that woman, and that sometimes is now.
Natasha takes a long deep breath, "(Y/N), how do you kinda fell out of a third floor?"
"I´m gonna check her up." Bruce smiles and stand up, leading you to the hospital wing downstairs.
"Thank you, for saving my life," you whisper to him as you´re leaving the living room.
"Don´t mention it, but you know... she´s worried about you. We all have been." Bruce opens the door for you.
"I know, but I´m really okay, just few bruises."
...
After 20 minutes of checking you up, and hearing your story of falling from the building, Bruce looks shocked. He didn´t said a word yet, only wrote down something in his report.
"This is going to be a very long mission report, just from the medical side," he looks at you, "(Y/N)... you had your lower ribs broken, twice actually. And- I´m suprised you´re not screaming in pain right now. How do you truly feel?" Bruce finally looks at you.
"I feel good, really. I mean it hurts, yes. But I felt worse. It feels like a daily workout with Natasha," you shrug as you joke, but Bruce doesn´t seem amused by your joke, but he still nods.
"You know Natasha can look into any mission report, right?" He looks like he´s more scared than you are.
"I´m aware, yes." You give him a confused look.
"Well good luck..." he pats your shoulder, "just rest for the next days, keep yourself hydrated and don´t share the story how you fell from the third floor, please. She would lose it."
"But it truly wasn´t my fault I-" Bruce looks at you and you stop, "got it." You nod.
...
"Alright, so picture this: I'm in this quiet little motel in Morocco, writing down some information I found out that day. It's just me, the mission, and this cute little stray cat that kept showing up at my door. Every night, like clockwork, she'd appear, almost like she knew I needed a friend. So, one day, I caved and let her in. You know, against all mission protocols and stuff. Bla blah blah... but she became my only friend, so I would not lose my mind completly." You talk about your experiences on the mission.
"And then, the weirdest thing happened. One day, she just disappeared. I was worried, you know? Felt a bit empty without her there. But on my last day, she came back. And guess what? She brought company—tiny, adorable company. She led me to this corner, and there they were, her little kittens. It was like she wanted to say goodbye and show me her new family all at once. It was… unexpected, but kinda touching, you know?" You smile, thinking about the tiny family.
"It was truly cute and adorable, also it was kinda relaxing after seeing all the bad and negativity. Like... animals are truly precious you know." As you´re talking you didn´t notice another person coming into the living room, until that person decides to speak up.
"(Y/L/N)," you turn around and notice it´s Nick Fury himself.
"Fury!" You smile.
He didn´t smile back, he has the same old Nick Fury look, "I want your report soon..."
"Y-yes, sir." You nod your head, hoping he would welcome you a little warmer, but it´s Nick Fury after all.
"And (Y/L/N)?" Fury says while basically walking out of the living room already.
"Yes, sir?"
"It´s good to have you back." He smiles, Fury smiles at you. There go your wish of a warmer welcome. Nickolas freaking Fury smiled at you and welcomed you home, warmly.
You have a pround smile on your face, when Tony speaks up, "I work for him for god knows how long and he never looked at me this way..."
Natasha looks at Tony and smirks, "can you blame him?".
You sink into the couch with a grin, finally getting a chance to unwind in your home-away-from-home. After swapping stories and catching up on compound news, Tony steps in with a suggestion—a special Avengers night. Not his typical flashy party, thankfully. He calls it a "Catching Up Night," just a laid-back dinner and some drinks.
It's not about going all out; it's about the simple pleasure of hanging out with your superhero pals, sharing laughs and updates. Tonight's vibe feels relaxed, a chance to chill and connect without the whole party frenzy.
...
Like always druing these 'non party party' you and Pietro moved to the bar section, as he loves to make people their drink based on their personality and you just like to sit and listen to him ramble.
"Do you want a drink called 'Tiny cold' or 'Closet paradise'?" he smirks, being proud of his jokes, like the usual.
"Really? First of all I´m not that tiny, also I´m not in the closet. What do you want me to do, tattoo a pride flag on my forehead?" You raise your eyebrow.
"If it wasn´t true you wouldn´t get so defensive, darling," he winks.
"I hate you."
"No, you don´t." Pietro towers above everyone you know, his playful teasing is basically a form of big-brotherly teasing.
"I´ll get the closet paradise, please." You roll your eyes.
"Coming right at ya!" Pietro smiles, once again, he won your little fight.
"So, Pietro, spill the beans! Who's this new girl, Kate?"
"Ah, Kate, huh? What do you want to know about her?" Pietro say while making you the drink.
"Everything! No one's given me a straight answer. Or any answer at all. I mean I didn´t ask, but I´m doing that now..." You ramble.
Pietro smirks at your words, "I mean... she´s cool."
"Come on, Pietro, don't be like that! Is she nice? What does she do?" You are obvoisuly frustrated as not even Pietro is giving you any tea.
"Well, she's got moves, that's for sure. Quick on her feet, sharp with her arrows—" He almost finishes up the drink for you.
"Arrows?" You cut him off.
"Yep, a regular Robin Hood type, except with better aim and a cooler outfit." He put ice in the glass.
"Is she nice, though? Friendly?" You want to get to know her.
Pietro nods and serves you the drink. "Yeah, she's cool once you get past the whole 'I'm new here' vibe she's got going."
"What do you mean?" You smile at him for giving you the drink.
"Why don´t we invite her and you find out yourself?" Pietro says, not really waiting for your answer and he is already waving like a crazy person at Kate, who is still standing next to the table by herself.
Kate smiles as she notices, that she doesn´t need to stand there awkwardly alone, and she little less awkwardly skips over to the bar. Small "hi" escaping her mouth.
"Hey there archer, why were you standing there all alone, when you can have fun with us?" Pietro starts the conversation.
"I uh-" Kate starts, but no smart explanation leaves her mouth.
"Pietro..." you look at him.
"What?" He looks at you, not knowing what he did wrong.
"No, he´s right. I´m little socialy awkward." The tall girl responds.
You smile at her, slightly noding your head. "Aren´t we all?" You try to make her feel a little better.
"I´m not." Of course Pietro had to say something.
"Well you´re one of a kind, Speedy." Pietro smirks proudly, while you roll your eyes once again.
"Um... what are you drinking?" Kate nods towards your drink in your hand. It was indeed very pretty colorful drink.
"I am drinking a drink that Pietro made..." You say while looking at the drink in your hand.
"The drink has it´s name, (Y/N)." Pietro smiles innocently.
"Yeah, well... I forgot it." You simple just shrug while Kate looks very confused.
"I´ll get one too, please. It looks tasty." Kate looks at Pietro, who just giggles to himself and starts to prepare Kate one 'Closet paradise' too.
All three of you start to be a little tipsy after some time, since Pietro´ alcohol ratio was 2/3 and the remaining ingredients 1/3, he´s just a begginer behind the bar. You realized that Kate is such an easy person to talk to and she´s not that intoverted as you though the first time you saw her earlier today. She´s the exact opposite to be fair, she´s very talkative. In some topics more than Pietro, which you thought is impossible.
After a little bit you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, when you sit down on the toilet, you can´t hide your stupid little smile anymore. Why are you smiling? You don´t really know. But it´s nice, it´s really nice actualy.
After 10 minutes, you come back to the bar, seeing that Kate is sitting there alone. "Where is our bartender?"
"He was invited to an arm wrestling match and, of course, he went." You can notice, that Kate´s cheeks are a little flushed, due to the few drinks she had.
"Of course." You chuckle as you sit next to Kate on one of the bar stools and your eyes immedietly look at her. "Do you like it here? Being in the team? Superhero stuff?"
Kate´s eyes meet yours, "I do have to say, that I idolized it a bit, but it´s not so bad. Not at all." She smiles at you, "what about you? Was it hard being away from your family?"
You nod, "First two weeks were okay, it went suprisingly fast, to be honest. Another week was really boring and then... it´s just mashed in one big mess of fighting, bleeding, falling and running away." You chuckle, but the smile never reached your eyes and Kate notices that.
Kate knows that she needs to make you feel better, "I uh... you know people here missed you a lot. To be honest when i officially joined I felt like there is something missing in here.."
"Oh please..."
"No, no, really. When I moved in, Clint told me that no one gives better tours than you. He also told me that no one makes better coffee´s, which was a first big indicator, that you have to be a class." Kate let out a chuckle and so did you. You often had many stories to tell, when you were giving tours, even though you are the second youngest Avanger. And the coffee you make? It can bring a smile even to the grumpiest Winter Soldier.
"And from that moment I heard a lot of things about you, (Y/N). It felt like I knew you too, like I missed you too." Kate admits, after that she sips on her drink.
"Wow, that´s really... nice to hear." You smile from ear to ear. "I hope you heard only the good things though." You slightly blush. "But um... thank you, Kate."
"No problem." She smiles back.
"To be fair, I didn´t heard anything about you, but I would like to change that." Smooth.
"That is pretty fair." Kate nods as she finishes her drink and so did you.
"We can go to the roof." Is a sentence you said at the same time and you also laugh at the same time
"Roof it is." You chuckle as you two get up and aim to the roof.
Upon reaching the rooftop with Kate, a gentle but brisk breeze sweeps by, causing a subtle chill to settle around you. The evening's tranquility is undeniable, yet the slight coldness in the air prompts you to huddle a bit closer to yourself, silently wishing for an extra layer to ward off the chill.
"I don´t want to admit it, but Pietro makes really good drinks." Kate starts as you two sat next to eachother.
"He does, he´s the best, really." You mumble as you nod to Kate´s comment.
She looks at you, for a bit scanning your face, then she speaks up again. "Do you and... Pietro you know? Are you two together?"
That question almost makes you sober, "I- what?!" You look at her, "oh god no! No, no, no," you laugh.
"No? Oh sorry, I just... assumed." She lets out a little shaky breath.
"We´re close friends, but that´s all. I actually joined a little bit after them and since all of us were scared and going into the unknown we decided to stick together. Including Wanda." You explain the situation, while Kate nods at your words.
"Oh- I see." Her eyes are still on you.
"I wouldn´t choose Pietro in any scenario..."
"That´s harsh." She chuckles.
"I mean it in the best way possible, he´s... anyone who will date him is lucky and unlucky at the same time. Being his friend means having a strong willpower not to kill him, I can´t even imagine what it would be in a relationship with him."
"That´s fair, I guess." Kate nods.
"Give him few more moths and you´ll understand..." You let out a small giggle.
"So you´re not into cocky people?" Kate is bold, very bold. it shocks you, but at the same time it excites you a lot.
"I- don´t really know. I guess... if you´re nice to me, that´s all I´m asking, really." You shrug, once again making eye contact.
"Wait really? This little? Oh come on, not even type? Just 'Nice'?" Kate can´t believe your words.
"Yup. I´m not picky at this point."
"Oh wow, you´re one of the migty heroes, and all it takes to steal your heart is to be nice?" Kate smiles at you, trying to hold a laugh.
"And a good smile, I´m quite sucker for pretty smiles." You didn´t even register you said it, until Kate repeats it.
"Nice and a good smile, whoa (Y/N), be little humble." She nudges your side with her elbow.
"Very funny, Bishop. Do you know how hard is to find someone, who is actually nice? It´s hard these days." You sigh dramatically.
"Whatever you say." Kate lays down, looking at the stars. You watch her for a few minutes and then you lay down next to her.
It feels like you two know eachother longer than just few hours. The alcohol might be a little helper, but at the end you feel like you two are gonna be close friends.
"I still think that there is way more good people than bad, so you might have a chance..." she mumbles as she watches the night sky.
"You think?"
"I know that. For example here, all of you guys are nice, super nice. And I´m not saying it just because you´re 'The Avengers', but I can tell that no matter what you´re trying to do the best." Kate turns her head and looks at you.
"You know you´re part of this punk family too, right? And also it would be weird and kinda pointless, if some bad guys were in the Avengers." You chuckle as you point out.
"That´s not what I´ve meant and you know it." She rolls her eyes and looks back up.
"How did you even met Clint?" You ask, shifting your position so now you´re laying on your side, facing the archer.
"Um... I saved a dog´s life and he almost hit me with his car." Kate responds like it was nothing.
You laugh, "I have to say that is very original way to get into the team. 'You almost killed me and I won´t sue you, if you let me be an Avenger.' And bonus points for saving a dog´s life."
Kate groans and turns on her side to face you, "it was not like that... I was running away from a weird kinda scary looking guys, which later on I found out they were called 'Track-suit mafia'-" As Kate starts to explain how she actually got on the team and how she is basically the young and female version of Clint, you can´t help but notice how happy she is.
She's delving into these tiny details that might not matter to the story at large, but they mean the world to her, and you can sense it. Her storytelling consumes her so much that she's using her entire body, mostly her hands, to illustrate every bit of it. You find it incredibly endearing, the most adorable thing you've ever witnessed.
"Oh wow, so you´re badass basically." You laugh.
"I- yeah, you could say that too." She laughs as well.
"Well it is a honor and-" you sit back up, while you still look at her. "Thank you for your service, miss Bishop."
Kate smile and notices your subtle shivers in the chilly air, gently nudging you. "Hey, you're shivering. Come on, let's head back inside."
You attempt to brush it off with a weak smile. "Nah, I'm good, just enjoying the view."
She tilts her head, giving you a knowing look. "Sure, you are," Kate teases. "But seriously, you're freezing. Let's go before you turn into an icicle."
Reluctantly, you nod, giving in to the undeniable truth. "Alright, fine."
The door creaked open, welcoming you into the comforting embrace of the heated indoors. With a grateful smile, you thanked Kate for her concern, secretly relieved to escape the biting cold.
"There you are! Where have you been?" A slightly drunk Tony takes your hand, "thanks to me, being so amazing, I´ve got a little suprise for you!"
"I was- what surprise?" You give Stark a confusing look.
"It was not thanks to you, but Fury." As soon as the voice echoes through the room, you instinctively recognize it—Carol, immediately drawing your attention her way.
"Carol?!" You turn around and notice a tall blonde lady standing behind you, with her hair down and a black pants with a black tank top.
"I heard you came home." She said with her typical smirk, while her big strong hands wrapped your body. You simply just nod.
"How long will you stay?" You knew right away, that it won´t be for long.
"Just tonight, I´ll be leaving tomorrow early in the morning." You sigh, it was like this all the time, Carol will come and go, you didn't hold it against her at all. She is the protector of the whole space, not only The Earth. It was hard for her too, you hoped that she will remeber to be Carol for a bit, not only the Captain Marvel. And thanks to Valkyrie, she´s taking care of herself too, but after what happened to Monica, it became worse again.
"So still nothing?" Carol just shakes her head and you frown.
"But we won´t stop looking and we will find her." Carol is trying to be strong, but all of the people in this room knew, that it was just too much, even for a hero like her.
Trying to ease the situation you speak up. "Well then let´s ejnoy this few hours, all of us together." You smile, "I´m glad you´re home too, Car." She nods and smiles back at you.
"Natasha have mentioned, that you had fallen from third floor..." Carol sits down.
"You never finished that story, (Y/N)." The Widow stares at you and your eyes immedietnly search for Bruce, he only shakes his head.
"Oh um... it is not worth telling, nothing special nor interesting." You smile and quickly grab bunch of chips on the table.
Captain Marvel looks at Natasha and nods, "I see," and with a smirk on her face, she sips from her drink. "One would say, that it would be an interesting story to tell." Carol point out.
"Well it´s not." You take some more chips.
The night flowed seamlessly, filled with lively conversations and shared laughter as everyone talked and truly enjoyed themselves. It was one of those evenings where every conversation was engaging, every joke landed perfectly, and the camaraderie among the Avengers felt stronger than ever.
As you wait for the elevator to your room, you can´t help but smile. After a long day, today was really good. After you reached your room it didn’t took you long enough to fall asleep.
...
"MY BEST FRIEND CAME HOME AND NO ONE TOLD ME?!" You hear a voice yell at you. Before you can open your eyes, your hit with what felt like pillow.
"Huh?!" You blink a few times to get use to the light in your room.
"WHEN DID YOU CAME? HOW LONG ARE YOU HERE-" Now it was your turn to take the pillow and throw it at the person. As you finaly focus you notice that it´s Spider-boy himself.
"What time is it?" You mumble, still being half asleep.
"6 A.M. BUT WHY DID NO ONE TOLD ME YOU´RE-" And he is hit with another pillow.
"Don´t yell, please," you rub your eyes.
"You´re not happy to see me?" Peter sits next to you on the bed.
"I'm excited to see you, but maybe not with the yelling and at a more reasonable hour than 6 freaking A.M. I'll be much happier." You smile as you open your arms, inviting him into a nice early morning hug.
"Why did no one told me you´re back? I´m always the last one to know things." Peter whines dramatically as he pulls away from the hug.
"Well Tony told me you went with MJ and May on a dinner, so that´s why he didn´t want to ruin it." You shrug, "Anyways how are things with you and MJ?" You raise your eyebrow and he blushes a bit.
"Things are good, really really good, (Y/N). And yesterday dinner with May was really good, we all had fun." You smile at his response.
"I´m really glad." You are happy for you friend, it took him ages to finally confess to her. "Do you.. uh do you know Kate?" You look at him as Peter nods his head, "well... I met her yesterday, and we had a little converstaion on the roof and... she is nice. Really nice. Clint chose a good person" You say with a little blush on your face.
"Oh my god- is she like really really really nice?" He teases.
"Yeah..." You smile, knowing that Peter got your message.
"That is cute. (Y/N) (Y/L/N) has a crush. Awww." Peter chuckles.
"Eww stop. I don´t know if it´s a crush, maybe it is... but you- " Peter cuts you off.
"Can´t tell anyone. Got it. Don´t worry. But under one condition..." Peter points up a finger.
"And that will be?"
"You have to talk to her, actually talk to her. Not just you´re super topic about the weather." You always talked to people about weather, when there was nothing else to do and you were dying to save the conversation.
"Easy." You smirk.
Spider-boy raises his eyebrows, "Easy? Let me bet, that you you will forget your own name when she looks at you."
"Oh shut up." You get out of the bed, taking just some oversized hoodie, since you already have a black swetapants and a shirt. "And since you woke me up this early, you´re making me a breakfast." Peter just nods as you two walk into the elevator.
...
When Peter starts to make you some pancakes, Carol walks in.
"There you are! I´m leavin for now, but-" You didn´t let her finish, you just rush to give her a warm long hug.
"I know. Just be careful and don´t forget to take care of yourself." The blonde one smiles.
"Copy that. So... see you later?"
"See you later, Cap." You salute her, which makes her laugh. And with that, Carol went into the skies once more and this time you hope you will see her sooner than in 6 months. The sentence 'see you later' is always better than a goodbye.
As you and Peter swap stories, reliving the adventures and crazy story times. Before he can finish his story about training with Bucky, a dark-haired girl strolled in, catching your attention.
"Morning." She smiles at you and then looks at Peter. Her raspy deep morning voice, messy hair and gray sweatpants with a white tanktop is something no one prepered you for.
"Hi, hello, morning, good- one!" Kate smile just widens and she goes past you to the fridge to get a fresh orange jucie.
Peter leans in closer and mumbles. "You owe me 10 bucks," having the most arrogant smile on his face. You just slap his arm.
"Can I get some pancakes too, please?" Kate watches as Peter flips another one on the plate.
"Of course!" He starts to make a few more, until he looks at his phone, "oh no! I completly forgot. (Y/N) watch the pancakes. I have to go, but you ladides have a good morning!" Peter gives you his spatula and even though Kate just nods and sits down, you know what his plan is.
"Bye Peter." You stare at him, but deep down you´re glad that you can spent some alone time with the archer.
He just sends you a wink and leaves the room.
"Need any help with the toppings?" Kate asks, watching you finish the rest of the pancakes.
"N-no, I've got it. I mean, I can handle it. Thank you, though."
Kate chuckles softly, noticing your nervousness. "You seem a bit flustered. Everything alright?"
"Yeah, yeah, just... morning jitters, I guess. I'm not a morning person."
"I see." She smiles.
"Do you have any plans for today?" You look up from the pan.
"Just the usual, a bit of training, maybe some archery with Clint later." Kate asnwers as you put some pancakes infront of her. As Kate tries the pancakes, you feel a sense of relief mixed with a tinge of excitement.
"The pancakes turned out pretty great! Anyway, how about we plan something fun for later? Maybe a movie night?" Kate say while finishing her last piece.
"Sounds perfect! I'd love that, Kate." Oh maybe early mornings are not so bad.
...
Over the next month, the bond between you and Kate flourishes, evolving into a deep and cherished friendship. Training sessions become a shared routine, where sparring sessions turn into moments of encouragement and laughter, each victory and defeat strengthening the relationship between you. Kate's guidance and support during training sessions spark a newfound confidence within you, making each session not just about physical exertion but also about trust and shared goals.
Movie nights become a beloved tradition, the occasional heated debate over the best movie snacks were on daily basis. It's these moments, cozy and intimate, where you find yourself drawn further into the orbit of Kate's infectious personality, her laughter becoming the soundtrack of your nights.
Walking Lucky, Kate's faithful companion, becomes a cherished routine. You find comfort in these quiet moments, admiring Kate's easygoing nature and her love for Lucky, feeling your admiration for her grow stronger with each passing day.
Yet, as your friendship blossoms, so do the feelings within you. What started as little crush has transformed into something deeper, a warmth that lingers whenever you're near Kate, a longing that grows with each shared laugh and meaningful glance. But you bury these feelings deep, treasuring the friendship too much to risk changing its dynamics.
thank you for reading! hopefully you’ll love this new series!!! 💕💖💞
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sixlane · 1 month
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@croptopjames submission | 1.5k words | NSFW - dom/sub, praise, degradation, spanking, gagging
Dedicating this to euge @ecstarry for brainrotting with me and lune @sommerregenjuniluft because we talked about dancer james once. Love you guys <3
Regulus walks the length of the studio assessing the attire of his dancers. He has a strict policy of professionalism that he makes no exceptions for, and James has been pushing his luck recently. 
He had hired James as an apprentice only a few months ago, but he was already regretting the decision. Not because of James’ abilities, but because of his utter lack of respect. 
James is a brilliant dancer, don’t get him wrong. He came from the most prestigious modern dance conservatory in the country, and Regulus had managed to sign him right out of school. 
He’s inclined to say James wasn’t worth the work, but that wouldn’t be completely true. He may make Regulus’ life a living hell, but he’s fucking gorgeous on stage, all lean muscles and strong lines. It’s captivating to watch, even more so when he gets to see it up close. 
As Regulus makes his way across the room, he catches sight of James in the back sporting gray joggers and— he has to take a minute to register what he’s seeing. Is that a fucking crop top? 
James just flashes a knowing smirk, staring Regulus down. He’s been called out for wardrobe infractions at least three times this month, and it’s starting to get old. 
“Sirius,” Regulus calls out to his brother, but more importantly, his rehearsal director. “Can you start the warm up? I need to have a word with Potter.”
A few snickers sound throughout the studio because his employees can be fucking children sometimes, and Sirius nods, getting up from his spot on the floor. 
Regulus turns toward the door, knowing James will follow him, and makes his way to his office down the hall. 
He only has to stand behind his desk for a minute, arms crossed, before James waltzes in, closing the door behind him. 
“This is grossly unprofessional, you do realize that,” Regulus deadpans. 
“I do realize that,” James responds innocently, batting his lashes. 
Regulus runs his eyes over the man standing in front of him, something he didn’t want to do in front of everyone in the studio. 
The top hits a few inches above his navel and exposes the soft lines of his abs and a stripe of dark hair that trails beneath his joggers. 
“Eyes up here,” James says, bringing Regulus’ attention back to the matter at hand. 
He gives James a stern look and leans forward on his desk.
“How many times do I have to tell you this won’t be tolerated in my company?” he asks. 
James’ eyes darken and he leans forward to mirror Regulus. “Not sure. Will you tell me again?”
The audacity of this man… Well, Regulus thinks, maybe it’ll stick this time. 
He reaches across the table casually, stroking a hand across James’ face. The dancer leans into it, fluttering his eyes shut for a moment, before Regulus reaches around his head to grab a fistful of his hair.
James opens his eyes and a slanted smile pulls at his mouth.
“Keep your hands on the table,” Regulus says before pushing James’ head down onto his desk. “Don’t move.”
James goes willingly, bending in half over the desk like a dream.
Regulus walks around to stand behind him, admires the curve of his ass and the ridges of his spine where they’re exposed under his shirt. He runs his fingers over them, eliciting a small shiver from James.
Regulus dips his hands into the waistband of James’ joggers, sinking his nails into the soft skin, before roughly pushing his pants down around his ankles.
James’ breathing picks up, his anticipation getting the better of him. Regulus would love to draw this out, but he’s afraid he hasn’t got the time today.
He smacks James’ ass once, causing the other man to jolt and let out a soft whine.
“Stay quiet,” Regulus commands.
James nods in confirmation. A lie, most likely.
Regulus lets a finger wander through the cleft of James’ ass, circling his rim in slow and deliberate movements. He keeps his eyes on James’ face where it’s pressed against his desk. His eyes are shut, mouth open. 
“You’re so pretty like this,” Regulus says. “When you’re not talking back to me.”
James makes a needy noise pressing his hips back onto Regulus’ finger, searching for a fullness he knows is coming.
Regulus smacks him again across the same spot as before. “Don’t get greedy. You know how this works.”
James nods again looking at Regulus now. His pupils are absolutely blown and it’s all Regulus can think about. The desperate want in his eyes.
“Tell me,” Regulus instructs.
James rolls his eyes back as he starts to lightly circle his rim again.
“Words, James.”
“You’re in charge,” James breathes.
“And I can do whatever I want with you,” Regulus adds.
“Whatever you want.”
“Good boy.” Regulus pulls his hand away again, but James doesn’t get a chance to protest before it’s being pushed into his mouth. “Now suck.”
James moans around his fingers, hollowing his cheeks and making a show out of it. He knows this undoes Regulus every time, watching as he listens so well, follows every command. It’s a high he’ll be riding for the rest of rehearsal.
“That’s right baby, get them nice and wet for me,” Regulus praises, bringing his other hand up to grab at James’ hip, keep him from moving too much.
When spit starts to drip down his chin, Regulus pulls his fingers away, and the noise James makes is fucking filthy. A keen he’s sure the whole company just heard, and that just won’t fly. 
Regulus moves his hand from James’ hip up into his hair, yanking him back until he’s hovering above the desk.
“James, what did I fucking say,” Regulus hisses. “Do you need something in your mouth? Hm? Such a slut for it you can’t follow simple directions?”
James moans loudly, a please falling from his lips somewhere in there.
Regulus releases him and he falls back onto the desk with a whine. 
Going back around his desk, Regulus fishes through his bottom drawer with his clean hand, finding what he’s looking for. A dress code appropriate t-shirt he keeps for times like these, when James just can’t help himself. He shoves it in James’ mouth harshly then pats him on the cheek. 
“There you go baby. Now you can tell me just how much you like it.”
And James does without a second thought, immediately filling the room with muffled noises.
Regulus resumes his position behind the dancer, running his spit-slick fingers against James’ hole.
“Ready?” He asks.
James is a mess, barely there at this point even though Regulus hasn’t even done anything, but he nods anyway, and Regulus pushes a finger in slowly.
“Always so tight for me baby.”
“Mmph,” James moans around the shirt. He tries to fuck his hips forward into nothing, desperate for some friction against his neglected cock, but Regulus holds him still. He should know by now that he’ll stay untouched until Regulus allows it.
Once he feels James is ready, he adds another finger, leaning down to spit into the place where they slide into James. He increases the speed, crooking them to brush the spot that reduces James to a moaning mess. 
He sees James’ eyes roll back again as he makes a muffled sound, so debauched and fucked out already. 
For the first time, Regulus notices his own wetness pooling in his briefs, but he ignores it. This isn’t about him.
“Can you be a good boy and take another,” Regulus asks, and James nods enthusiastically. If he wasn't gagged, Regulus knows he’d be begging, has heard it enough times to memorize the sound.
Regulus pulls out completely, watching James’ hole flutter briefly around nothing, before pushing three fingers back in.
James balls his fists against the desk, barely moving his hips, trying so hard to be good. Regulus decides to cut him some slack.
“Fuck yourself on them baby, it’s okay.”
James obeys immediately, pushing his hips back wildly and making ungodly sounds that he wishes he could hear unobstructed. 
Caught up in the image of James losing control, Regulus reaches around to touch his neglected cock where it’s been leaking onto the floor. He collects the precome beading at the tip to soften the slide, and pumps James slowly in time with the movement of his hips.
“You close? Gonna come for me?” Regulus asks, sugar sweet.
James barely responds, but the crease between his eyebrows gives him away. Regulus knows it means he’s heading toward the edge of the cliff.
Quickly, before it’s too late, Regulus pulls his hand away, pulls his fingers out, leaving James empty and neglected once again.
He smacks James’s ass roughly, then digs his fingers into the flesh, punishing.
Leaning forward, he puts his mouth right up against James’ ear, “Only good boys get to come, James. I expect you back in rehearsal in five minutes wearing that shirt in your mouth.”
James sobs into the fabric, ruined and undoubtedly aching, and Regulus leaves him there to clean himself up.
Maybe this time he’ll finally learn his lesson.
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suashii · 24 days
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something short and sweet for samu :3 established relationship, osamu calls reader honey, ~700 words ❤︎
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the morning air is clean and crisp, even more so on this secluded trail than it is on the city sidewalks. you usually wouldn’t find yourself here, surrounded by trees, pebbles crunching beneath the soles of your shoes, but when osamu had invited you to join him on his run—insisted that you accompany him—you couldn’t say no. while the scenery is unmatched, attempting to keep up with the man makes it difficult to enjoy the chirping of the birds and the cool wind on your face.
he’s ahead of you—far enough that you couldn’t touch him if you reached out to grab him but close enough that he’s still in your sights. with each stride you take, it seems as though he takes three more.
“w-wait,” you wheeze out, slowing to a stop to catch your breath. your knees bend and your hands come to rest on them as you suck in a deep breath of air. “i need a break.”
your words stop osamu in his tracks. he turns around to face you and a smile takes over his face. his eyes are partly shielded by the brim of his hat but you’re almost positive you’d see the humor swimming in the gray irises if they were visible. “already? it’s only been, like, fifteen minutes.”
“cut me some slack,” you tell him, standing to your full height with your hands on your hips. you’re still trying to steady your breathing but the stance is almost a defensive one. “you do this every week.”
you mean that he runs this path every sunday morning to start his day, that he’s familiar with the route and has perfected a tempo that works for him. he knows you mean that but he still can’t help but poke fun at you.
“what are you talking about? you run too.”
you laugh, more out of disbelief than humor. the curl of his lips is telling and deep down you know he’s trying to get a rise out of you but you can’t help but take his bait. “yeah, on a treadmill. at my own pace. keeping up with you is impossible—your legs are too long.”
the comment draws a chuckle from his chest that seems louder than it truly is in this hidden spot within the trees. the sound never fails to brighten your mood, though, you cross your arms and paint on a frown to keep from folding so easily.
“you told me this was going to be a ‘relaxing jog’ and it hasn’t been either of those things.”
despite your posture and expression, osamu can tell you aren’t mad. you’ve been together for years and he can count the number of times he’s genuinely upset you on one hand. he knows your tells—like how you refuse to look at him and how you go quiet. he’s glad he’s only brought out that side of you a select few times and even though he’s sure you’re joking now, he never intends to push you that far.
his legs move automatically, closing the distance between you two. when his arms open, you step into them and let yours drop to your sides as you let your forehead rest on his chest. you can feel his heartbeat, still elevated from the exercise. he encases you in the warmth of his embrace. it’s comfortable and familiar and you’re starting to think that you’d be content standing here forever when osamu’s voice rumbles against you.
“shall i carry you the rest of the way?”
you snort and smack his chest. the offer is unserious but you know that if you say yes, he’d be willing to do it. there’s something tempting about the idea of clinging to osamu’s back for what’s left of his workout, but you didn’t tag along to be a nuisance. you tip your head up to meet his eye. “how about i set the pace?”
he hums in agreement. “i can follow your lead.”
“and…” you start, taking a step back so you can see him better, “i want breakfast as an apology for your misrepresentation of what this would entail.”
your second condition is enough to make osamu laugh, although, this time you allow yourself to smile at the sound. his laugh is pretty high up on the long list of things you love about him.
he nods. “fine. but i was gonna make you breakfast anyway, honey.”
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