#i feel like every now and again he'd do it himself | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

annwrites · 17 hours

Text

forever

— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader

— type: ficlet

— summary: you & billy go to a vegas casino. the next day, you have a scare & make a commitment.

— tags: ♡

— tw: gambling

— word count: 7,412

— a/n: while i am very proud of this entire series so far, there's just something more about this post for me. I actually cried while writing this one. i hope you all enjoy!

find my other posts concerning billy here

GIF by 62737462718star

The next day, you and Billy stay snuggled up in bed, watching TV—him, at first, changing the channel every few minutes as soon as you got interested in something just to drive you nuts—napping, eating, talking, and every once in awhile getting on each other’s nerves just for fun.

But, as you laid with your head on his chest and his fingers in your hair, you were completely content to fall back asleep listening to his steady breathing. The beat of his heart.

You wake in the middle of the night to Billy tossing and turning beside you, muttering unintelligibly. His brows are furrowed, body slick with sweat.

You cup his cheek in your hand, shooshing him, telling him to wake up.

And when his eyes do open, they're full of fear. He looks to you at his side and his face crumples. "Oh, baby doll," he says, burying his face between your breasts, wrapping his arms around you.

You twine your fingers in his hair, holding him to you. "It was just a nightmare. It's okay."

"I lost you," he whispers. "You...fuck, you stopped breathing. I-"

"Shh, it wasn't real. I'm right here. Shh."

You let him cry softly against your chest until you eventually coax him back to sleep by reassuring him over and over again that you're all better now. You're still here.

"I love you. Just try and go back to sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up, okay?"

He nods, pulling you closer. "I love you, too."

While still a tad under the weather, you feel far better the next day. And are honestly itching to get out of the motel room, even if it's just to go sit outside or ride shotgun while Billy drives around, letting you sight-see.

You're just coming out of the bathroom, dressed and ready to go, when Billy comes back into the room carrying breakfast with him.

He kicks the door closed with his boot—a brown paper bag held between his teeth, to-go cups in one arm, a couple more bags in the other.

He looks up to you with a raised brow as he begins setting everything down. He nods toward the bed. "Take all that off and get back into bed."

You come over to him. "I feel better today. I'm tired of being stuck in this room, Billy. It's been days now. Can we please go do something?"

You bat your lashes at him, pressing up against him and he groans as you slip a hand in his pocket. "Pretty please?"

Before he can tell you, yet again, to get back into bed, you swiftly remove your hand, his keys dangling from your fingers.

He sighs, holding out his hand. "Yeah, you're hilarious. C'mon, give 'em."

You back up a step, hiding them behind your back. "As soon as you promise to let me out of here."

He studies you for a moment. "Maybe in another day or-"

"No, today."

He crosses his arms, jaw flexing. "I said no. And that's final."

You step closer to him, reaching out for his hand, which he snatches away.

"No. Do...do you have any idea what you put me through? I thought..." He shakes his head. "Don't ever fucking do that again, alright?"

Your lip twitches. "I will do my utmost to never get sick again. I promise."

You press yourself against his chest then. "Now let me outside."

He sighs. "Only once you've had breakfast."

You snuggle closer. "Deal."

"If you so much as sneeze, I'm taking your ass back."

You roll your eyes. He'd been like this since before you stepped out the door. He'd even forced a thermometer under your tongue before letting you go out, which had read at a perfect 98.7°—a temperature that should've pleased him, but he'd instead frowned.

You'd tried making a joke about him just wanting to keep you all to himself for another day, but had known it was because he was terrified of you going back outside and getting sick again.

You turn in your seat to face him and run your fingers through his hair.

He fights against his lip twitching at the tender gesture. He sighs then. "Alright, where to? Unless you want me to pick?"

He looks at you then, a smirk now on his face. "We are in Sin City. Could always hit a sex shop, then head back and create our own entertainment for the day."

You lean over, kissing him deeply and when you pull away, he has a brow raised, thinking he's talked you into it.

"Nice try."

He leans back, rolling his eyes as he turns the car over.

"Billy, stop, we can't go in. This is ridiculous. They're never going to buy your fake; I'm sure they see them everyday."

Billy was currently pulling you alongside him...into Caesar's Palace. He'd gotten the idea to go gambling in his head, and not even offering to go to a sex shop to try on skimpy lingerie had managed to talk him out of it. You'd even threw in that he could finally cuff you to whatever he wanted and have his way with you if he just turned back around, but he'd not listened to a word.

You'd tried tugging unsuccessfully against his hand, unable to pull him back an inch in the other direction. He'd instead led you further inside. And, just when he'd thought—ignorantly—as he passed the hotel lobby, headed in the direction of the casino floor, he was about to get away with it, a large man dressed in a suit, who was probably twice the size of Billy, stepped in his way.

Billy didn't shrink away from his authoritative presence, but you might've hidden yourself just the least bit behind him as you glanced up shyly to the security guard.

"Somewhere you're headed?" He asks, voice a deep baritone tune.

Billy looks up at him with a bored expression, nodding behind him. "Got a few greenbacks that're just burnin' a hole in my pocket."

He goes to step past him, but the man side-steps, once again blocking him.

"ID card, pal."

Billy retrieves his wallet, handing him the requested piece of information.

He studies it with a raised brow, then looks at Billy. "Billy Squier? You really thought someone would buy that?" He tosses it back to him. "Go on, get out of here."

Billy shrugs, tucking his wallet back away. "Like I can help that we share the same name." He smirks, flashing him a dazzling smile. "The Stroke is a damn good song, though, ain't it?"

He glances to you, then back to the security guard.

The man chooses to ignore Billy then, honing in on you. "You got a fake for me, too? Let me guess: Stevie Nicks? No. Cindy Lauper."

You hold Billy's hand more tightly. "I-"

Billy interrupts you. "She left hers in the car." He lets go of your hand then. "Listen, man, what's it going to take? My money's good, ain't it?" He pulls out a wad of rolled up cash, counts out a few bills, then reaches forward, feigning shaking his hand, the bills disappearing in the other man's grip. "Just trying to show my girl a good time. What, you've never been young and in love before?"

"You ever been employed before, kid?" He shoves the money back against Billy's chest. "Go on, before I have to use force."

Billy gives him a glare before turning back around, wrapping his arm around your waist. "C'mon, baby, we'll go blow a grand at Circus Circus instead."

Somehow, you and Billy get lucky at the next casino. You show up just when the security guards are changing shifts and sneak right in. Your heart had been pounding, and you couldn't tell whether it was your palm or his that was sweaty, but you eventually come to wrap your arms around one of his as he weaves between slot machines and craps tables.

You glance around, lights twinkling in your wide eyes in the dim lighting, the room illuminated by colorful overhead chandeliers, and neon slot machines. There's even a section of the room that's modeled after a carousel.

You look up to Billy then, walking alongside him. "Can I play a slot machine?" You ask sweetly.

"Once I win at blackjack."

You frown. "Do you even know how?"

He stop, turning back to you. "Baby, I've got skills you've never seen."

You hook your finger on his black half-unbuttoned shirt. "That's likely."

He shakes his head. "Keep it up."

When he turns away, you smack his ass and he laughs.

You stand behind Billy, actually impressed. He'd not been lying about knowing how to play cards. While nearly every other person sitting at the table had eventually folded, or busted more times than they were comfortable with, and thus left with bruised egos, Billy's chips were just piling up.

You didn't like the way some people were eyeing his winnings, however.

You lean down close to his ear as he holds his cards close to his chest. "Billy, I think that's enough-"

"After this hand."

You sigh, frowning. "You said that twenty minutes ago."

He taps two fingers against the table and the dealer slides another card his way.

"Like I can help that I'm on a roll." He looks up at you, smirking. "Think you might be my little good-luck charm."

You shift on your feet. "You have way more than you came in with now. Can I please just go try a slot machine?"

He glances to the dealer and watches as he turns over a card and a smile breaks out across Billy's face as he throws his own cards down, slamming his fists against the table. "Woo! Winner winner, baby!"

He pulls more chips in his direction, which you grab in your fists, heading in another direction with them. You hear him curse from behind you, but quickly gathers the remaining ones on the table before following you to go cash in.

After finishing up with the casino’s teller, Billy securely pockets away a few hundred dollars, practically beaming from his winnings. He then hands you a five and nods toward the slot machines. “Go nuts.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Only five dollars?”

He leans down close to you. “You want more, guess you’ll have to blow me.”

Your expression then morphs into a scowl. “You’re so-”

“Y’know, my dice, when I play craps later?”

You turn your back to him, heading toward a slot machine. “That is so not what you meant.”

“Not my fault that my cock is all you can think about.”

After losing once, you’d been ready to burn the entire building down. But after a few times? You were seething. You yank on the arm one last time and it then demands more money.

“Oh, that is such bull. It took all my money!”

Billy glances to those few others who are seated at nearby machines and a muscle in his jaw feathers when he sees them looking your way as you continue to make a scene.

“I didn’t win once. This game is rigged. I want a different machine!”

He can’t believe you’re getting this upset over losing five dollars that hadn’t even been yours to begin with, anyway.

“Honey-”

“Don’t honey me, I want another five,” you state, holding out your hand.

He crosses his arms. “I think someone might have a bit of a gambling problem.”

The vein in the middle of your forehead makes an appearance—he’s never seen that trick before. “I wanted cherries. I kept getting fucking bananas and-”

He steps closer to you, needing to calm you before someone calls security. “Sweetheart, I will give you all the banana you want when we get back to the motel. But right now-”

“I said cherries! See, you’re not even listening to me.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. Good Lord, you’re acting like a little kid. And he typically relied on you to be the mature one. Seeing you so pissed was funny at first, but now you were getting a bit scary.

“Alright, fine, I will pop your cherry when-”

You lean your head back, groaning. “Too late for that now, isn’t it?” You look at him again.

He finally reaches up, squeezing your cheeks until your lips are puckered. “You want to get us kicked out?”

“No,” you mutter through fish lips.

He smirks. You look adorable like this. So tiny and angry and your face all squished in his strong grip. Like a pissed off kitten. “If I give you another five, will you promise—if you lose—to control your temper, and behave yourself, and not be a sore loser?”

“Yes.”

He releases you, giving you the promised amount of cash.

“Motherfu-”

He yanks you up from the stool by your upper arm before you can finish that expletive. “Alright, time to go. You’ve had enough.”

“Just give me another-”

“Nope, you’ve had enough.”

“But-”

“No buts. C’mon. You’d leave us high and dry if I let you have your way.”

“You are so not getting lucky tonight.”

“Already did. Sounds like you’re the one who didn’t.”

“Oh, you son of a-”

Once the two of you are back at the motel, you’d thankfully calmed down. Billy was almost afraid to leave not just his money, but the keys to the Camaro anywhere you could get to them, lest you return to the casino for a second round. Third, really.

But, once you were in a bubble bath and softly humming to yourself as you washed up, he figured that you seemed well-enough over it.

After bathing, you stand over your bag of toiletries with shaking hands and wide eyes, your heart hammering in your chest as you stare down at a tampon that’d been hidden at the bottom of the bag.

You were late. Very late, by your standards. Your period had always been like clockwork. If it was ever ‘late’, it was by no more than a day. Ever. And even that was rare. Far and few between.

But today made five. The two of you had used protection every time. But…what if there had been a hole in one of the condoms? Or some of his semen had somehow leaked out or… That night on top of the Camaro. But he’d finished on your stomach. Not inside of you. No. This wasn’t happening. You were not-

“You about done in there? I need to take a piss.”

You jolt, dropping the plastic tube on the floor, staring at the closed door, unable to form a single word on your tongue. Until you manage to choke out, “Just a sec.”

“Gettin’ all dolled up for me just to go to bed?”

Your eyes sting with unshed tears. God, you want him to just leave you be for a few more minutes so you can collect yourself. Because right now? You felt on the verge of a hysterical breakdown.

You stare at yourself in the mirror. Your face had gone pale, all blood drained from your lips, your eyes wide and terrified. And you were shaking like a leaf.

You begin taking deep breaths, trying to calm yourself. Oh God, you felt like you were about to pass out.

It was nothing.

You’d been under a lot of stress lately, that was all. Yes, that made perfect sense. From the moment you’d left Hawkins, you’d been on a non-stop rollercoaster of emotions. All the traveling, the fighting, worrying about money, worrying about each other, worrying about the future, you getting sick—it was a perfect recipe for a late period.

And it was only five days. Just because it was always on time before didn’t mean it couldn’t be late now. Sometimes bodies were weird. They didn’t always operate how they were supposed to. Obviously, or so many diseases and disabilities wouldn’t exist. And stress could wreak havoc on the healthiest of people. So, you had nothing to worry about. Right?

“Sweetheart?”

You quickly gather your things, your stomach now in knots, shoulders tense, jaw locked tight.

You swing open the door and stare up at Billy. “All yours,” you say stepping past him.

A moment later, you hear him relieving himself. You let out a breath of relief that he hadn’t noticed you were upset.

You’d barely touched your dinner. Billy had noticed, but you’d used the excuse that you ‘weren’t all that hungry’. He’d stared at you for a moment before stealing one of your shrimp, telling you that he’d eat them if you weren’t going to. He hadn’t noticed your palm pressed against your stomach.

Once the two of you were in bed, you’d turned your back to him, trying to fight back tears. If…if you were…what would happen to the two of you? You’d felt so sure that you’d found the one now. But this… A baby would ruin everything. He’d leave you. This much he wouldn’t stand for, you were sure of it.

You were both eighteen. Kids yourselves. What the hell did either of you know about being parents? You wouldn’t have any idea of how to be a proper mother, you’d not been given an example of one yourself. And Billy had his history with his father.

You hadn’t had that talk yet: what you wanted when it came to kids. You don’t even know what it is that he wants. You don’t know what you want, either.

Just as your terror begins to grow, you feel his hand sliding along your hip, erection pressed against your back. You feel sick at the sensation of it. That part of him had destroyed your entire life. And now you would be the one forced to deal with the consequences. The fallout.

You’d been right to be abstinent before. This was his fault. He’d not stopped until he’d buried himself inside your head. Had pushed and pulled, pushed and pulled until you didn’t know where else to run but into his arms.

No. You can’t think like that. He loves you. He’d made some mistakes, but you understood why. Had chosen to forgive him. You loved him, too. And what if you were just getting yourself all worked up over nothing? What if you weren’t indeed pregnant, and causing yourself further stressed just delayed your period further?

Billy presses his lips to your neck, reaching under his t-shirt, which you’re wearing, cupping your breast. “Want me to help you get undressed, honey?”

You bite your lip until you taste blood, fighting back tears. “I’m really tired. Maybe not tonight.” You say it so quietly that he barely hears you.

He presses a soft kiss to the back of your head. “Told you that you should’ve stayed in bed. But no one ever listens to Billy.”

You don’t respond. You just take his hand, wrapping his arm around your waist, praying to God he doesn’t notice that your own is shaking.

You toss and turn most of the night, at one point locking yourself in the bathroom to cry while Billy sleeps, clutching your stomach, praying to God that you’re not what you think you are. If you were, and he did leave you, what would you do? Where would you go? Everything would fall out from under your feet then. You’d have nothing. No one. He was your entire world. Everything. He was everything. Your everything. You’d come to lean so heavily on him. To rely on him at every turn.

If he left you behind… You want to die at the thought.

The next morning, you’re exhausted. And Billy quickly takes notice over breakfast. Which you barely touch.

He brushes his foot against yours, reaching for your hand, concerned with the lost-in-thought look on your face. Were you getting sick again?

“Baby?”

You look up at him. “Hm?”

“You alright, angel?” He reaches up, pressing his palm to your forehead. You don’t feel feverish…

You nod slightly, looking back down to your cereal, which is now just a bowl of mush, stirring it.

“I think you’re still just getting over that cold. I should’ve made you stay in yesterday. How about you go lie back down and get some rest. We’ll just hang out here for the rest of the day. Alright?”

You nod, getting up, stripping, lying back down. You quickly fall asleep.

When you wake, the TV is on, the volume low, and Billy is sitting up, one arm around you, holding you close to his leg. You stare at the closed curtains, wondering what time it is, but don’t want to ask, because you don’t want to talk. Don’t want him to notice that something more is wrong than you just ‘being under the weather’, even if you knew you felt completely back to normal now. You don’t want him to keep digging until you’re finally forced to cave and tell him what’s really going on.

So, you close your eyes instead, forcing yourself back into a dreamless slumber.

Billy had let you sleep through lunch, but he now stands at the foot of the bed, frowning, considering whether to wake you for dinner. He’d gotten you a cheeseburger—one of your favorites—so he’s sure you’ll eat it.

He tucks some hair behind your ear, then gently shakes you awake.

“Dinner’s here, beautiful. Time to get up. Once you’ve eaten, you can go back to bed.”

You moan against the pillow, wishing he’d just left you be. You didn’t want to eat, because the moment you opened your eyes, your stomach was twisting into knots again. But you fight the feeling of nausea down, telling yourself to, at the very least, act fine. Pretend like you feel as much.

You sit up, smiling slightly at him.

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “How’re you feeling?”

You wrap your arms around his neck, hiding your face from his view. “Better.”

He sighs. “Good. That’s good.”

He leads you over to the table and you force every bite down.

Billy makes another sexual advance that night, shortly after laying down. He slips his hands between your legs. “I can do all the work tonight, if you want?”

You’d simply pressed yourself into his chest. “Could you just hold me instead? Maybe…maybe tomorrow.”

He’d remained silent as he slid his strong arms around you, holding you close, whispering that he loved you and to get some more rest. That he was sure you’d feel better in the morning.

You do not, in fact, feel better in the morning. More rested than the day previous, yes, but your nerves are fried.

You’d raced to the bathroom to…expel your bowels from nerves at least twice in the night, and now your stomach was truly on empty. But just the thought of eating made you feel sick.

Currently, it’s morning and you’re lying in bed awake, even if you’d rather not be, listening to Billy quietly snore beside you. You sit up, staring down at him, trying to memorize every line and facet of his face. His body.

Before you loose him for good.

Tears sting your eyes at the thought of being alone again. Though, you won’t be totally alone, you suppose. If you are…that…will it look like you or him? Will it have his eyes? His beautiful head of hair? You don’t think you can bear it: having to look upon a perfect reflection—reminder—of him every day, knowing he’s never coming back.

How could you have let this happen? What if you got rid of it instead? Somehow, that thought makes you feel worse. A little bundle that’s equal parts you and him…gone. Just as a tear slips down your cheek, he begins to wake.

You quickly wipe it away, smiling as he opens his eyes, looking up at you, stretching.

He reaches a hand up to your cheek, cupping it. “Morning, sweetheart.”

“Hi.”

“You been up long?”

You shake your head. “I just woke up a couple minutes before you did.”

“Admiring your sleeping beauty then, huh?”

You smile at the sarcastic comment. “Most certainly.”

He slides his other hand up your thigh, stopping close to your heat. “You want to?”

You shift under his touch. How to tell him no yet again? You’d not been intimate in days, and you worry that continuing to reject him will only serve to hurt him, if not make him suspicious. But the thought of him buried inside of you right now… You simply can’t.

He notices your silence and his smile fades. “Guess not.” He removes his hand, getting up from bed, nervously running his hand through his hair. “I’m gonna go take a leak,” he says, padding over to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Your chin wobbles, knowing you did it anyway: hurt his feelings.

Billy lays on the horn, waiting for traffic to move. He glances to you then, who is busy staring out your open window. He knows something is wrong. But you won’t tell him what.

He reaches over, sliding his hand up your leg and his ego takes a hit when you recoil at his touch. He sighs, resting his hand back on the shifter. “Come the fuck on, man!” He shouts at the line of cars in front of him.

He then looks back to you. “What? Are you still sick?”

You clasp your hands. “No. I’m just…tired.”

He leans his head back, rolling his eyes. “Heard that a lot the last couple days. Don’t know how. It’s not like we’ve screwed much recently.”

In all honesty, he didn’t really care about that. He was fine with waiting on you. It was the fact you were keeping something from him that was starting to really get under his skin.

You begin to shake from anger then. “After everything, and that’s still all you think about. Not like I should be surprised. Since we met that’s all you’ve thought with is what’s in your pants.”

He jerks his head in your direction. The two of you hadn’t fought like this in a minute. “Excuse me?”

“You want to get laid? We’re in Vegas. Go pick up some hooker on the strip. You should have enough for it after the other night at the casino, I’m sure.”

He grips the wheel tighter. “The fuck is your problem? Huh? You got somethin’ you want to say to me?”

You look at him and his expression softens when he sees the tears gathering in your eyes. “I’m sorry,” you say, voice breaking, burying your head in your hands.

He unbuckles, reaching over, wrapping his arms around your trembling frame. “Shh. Baby, please tell me what the fuck is going on. Did…did I do something?”

How to say yes and no?

You look up at him then, tears streaming down your cheeks. “I’m late.”

His brows furrow. “Late? Late for wha-”

His face falls, all color draining from it and quickly, leaving him lightheaded. He remains calm, as calm as he can manage—for the moment. “How late?” He asks, deathly serious.

“F-five days.”

“And the latest you’ve ever been is?”

“A day. And rarely, at that.”

He stares at you for a moment, then swerves onto the shoulder, parking, and quickly getting out, slamming the door behind him. “Fuck! Motherfuck! Why does this shit keep happening to me? It’s going great one minute, then it all just turns to shit!”

You turn away from the window then, refusing to listen to anymore as you begin to sob, clutching your stomach. You reach forward, toward the dash, now hyperventilating, trying to catch your breath, your ears ringing.

A moment later, Billy gets back in the car, forcing his way back into traffic. “We’re not going to freak out until you’ve taken a piss test and we know for sure.”

Both of you stand in the family-planning aisle of a CVS, staring at their plethora of a selection of pregnancy tests. Billy reaches forward with a shaking hand, grabbing a two-pack in a pink box.

“Should…do you want this one?” He asks, looking at you.

You shrug, lower lip trembling.

He puts it back, grabbing a blue box next. “This one sounds like it should be fairly accurate. Ninety-eight percent.” He tosses it back onto the shelf. “Why the fuck are there so many? What’s the goddamn difference? I mean, Jesus, it’s like buying condoms. I mean, the things are supposed to be fuckin’ fool-proof, right? Why make shit that leaves you guessing in a situation like this? It’s ridiculous.”

You stay quiet, knowing he’s talking more to himself than he is you.

He picks the blue box back up, grabbing your hand in his other, leading you up front to the register.

Billy tosses the test onto the counter and the older woman behind it eyes up the two of you as she scans the box, telling Billy his total.

You just stare at the floor as he pulls out a bill, telling her to keep the change. Then, “You all have a public restroom?”

Billy waits outside the door as you go, silent tears slipping down your cheeks as you place the cap back on the test and set it on the sink, waiting.

It’s maybe two minutes later before his patience has worn through and he pounds on the door, making you jump. “What’s takin’ so long?”

You walk over, cracking the door open, staring up at him. “It takes fifteen minutes.”

His brows raise. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” He barges in, shutting the door behind him. “Why the hell don’t they put that on the goddamn box?”

“They did,” you reply quietly, showing it to him—right on the front. “See?”

He snatches it away from you, staring at it like it’s his own worst enemy, then tossing it in the trash.

He begins to pace back and forth in the small space, hands on his hips. You stand silently against the wall, watching him.

“I can’t believe this is fucking happening. This—coming out here—getting to California. It was supposed to be a new fucking start and now… I’m eighteen-goddamn-years-old. I can’t be a dad yet. I’m not ready. I mean, Jesus, I don’t know that I want kids ever. I can’t stand ‘em now. Annoying little shits. And they’re expensive as hell. Even if you think you’re ready, you’re fuckin’ not. We don’t even have a place to live. What? Am I gonna stick a crib in the fucking backseat of the Camaro? Fuck!”

When he looks at you, his heart drops.

You’re standing against the wall, shaking, tears streaming down your face, biting your lip, both hands clutched over your stomach, your face pale. “I’ll get rid of it,” you whisper.

Then you continue, “Oh God, what’s happening to me? I can’t…I can’t do this alone. What am I supposed to do? How…how am I going to live? What will happen to my baby?” You hang your head, truly sobbing then.

You thought he was going to leave you? Alone? To this?

He steps over, quickly wrapping his arms around you. “I’m sorry. Baby, I’m right here. Sweetheart, look at me.”

He takes your face in his hands. “Angel, I’m not going anywhere. If you are…it’s not like I didn’t play a part in it. You should know by now that I’m in this for the long haul. That you’re it for me. I know you deserve better than me. You always will. But I’ll try my best, alright? To be a good dad. I had a shitty fuckin’ example, but maybe I can learn from his mistakes. I’ll take care of you.”

He presses a palm to your stomach then. “Both of you. We’ll…we’ll get married. I’ll be better than he was. I have to be. You deserve that.”

You blink up at him, speechless. Had…had he just proposed? “You…want to get married?”

He smiles, kissing your forehead. “It’s the right thing to do. But I’m not getting’ down on one knee, if that’s what you’re expecting. Not in this nasty fuckin’ restroom, anyway.”

You glance to the test. “I think it’s been enough time now.”

You walk over to it and fill with relief—joy—when you see the minus sign. You double over the sink, laughing lightly. All that stress and for nothing. Nothing at all. “Oh, thank God!” You laugh some more, feeling like all is right with the world again. “I’m not pregnant. We don’t have to get married now! We can just-”

You stop talking when you turn around and see Billy isn’t nearly as elated as you are. Not even smiling. Nor is he looking at you. Instead, his hands are gripping the metal support beam behind him, eyes trained on the floor.

“I-”

He quickly brushes past you then, wrenching the door open. “Let’s go.”

Once the two of you have returned to the motel, he still hasn’t spoken another word to you. He’d gone in the bathroom, slamming the door behind him, even going so far as to lock as it while he showered.

You’d pressed your ear up against the door, listening, trying to ensure he was okay, but could hear nothing over the sound of water.

So, you’d sat on the edge of the bed, patiently waiting, thinking of how best to apologize for what you’d said. You’d just been so sure that he would be relieved as well. He’d said it himself: that he wasn’t ready for a baby yet. Then you wonder…had it been your comment about marriage that had upset him?

Was…was he ready for that? Were you? But when you think of it: wearing a ring he’s chosen for you, taking his last name, vowing to spend your life next to him—it doesn’t fill you with fear or doubt or unease. It fills you with love. Joy. A feeling of security.

When Billy emerges quite some time later, he tries to hide it, but you see it: his eyes are bloodshot.

Your heart breaks, now knowing what’d taken him so long.

He had been crying.

You pad over to him, wrapping your arms around his middle as he chooses a t-shirt for bed. He doesn’t do that, though—wear pajamas to lie down next to you. And now he suddenly feels the need to shield himself from you?

You press your cheek to his bare back. “Did you mean what you said about getting mar-”

“Just fuckin’ drop it, alright? You’re not knocked up, so now we don’t have to get hitched. Let’s just go to bed.”

“But-”

“Like you’d want to anyway.”

“I do.”

He freezes. Suddenly imagining you saying those words in a different context. He slowly turns back around to you. “What?”

You stand on tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck, running your fingers through his damp curls. “I want to if you do.”

He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear. “Really?”

You smile, nodding. “I’m sorry for what I said. I wasn’t thinking. I was just relieved that I wasn’t pregnant. I…I’m already yours in every other way. Why not this one, too? Billy, no one else is ever going to love me the way you have—do. Just like you, I don’t want anyone else. You’re what I want. I can’t imagine having to start over with someone else after…after all of this. The thought of losing you…it was tearing me apart. Having to think of living a life without you in it…”

You trail off for a moment, swallowing the lump that’s forming in your throat. “I’ll marry you.”

His lip twitches and his eyes grow glassy. He then crushes you to his chest, holding you close, cradling the back of your head. “Okay.”

You and Billy are currently browsing through selections of gently-used clothing at a local thrift store, trying to pick out outfits to wear to the Little White Chapel. But every white dress you come across has something wrong with it: holes, tears, rips, yellowing, or it’s just a tad outdated or way too frilly.

Until you find a hanger buried behind numerous other items. As you look the dress over, you begin to smile.

You then wander over to Billy, who’s looking through men’s dress clothes and poke him in the back.

When he turns, a grin forms on his face. He grips the soft material, looking to you. A white babydoll dress, silver sparkles dancing against the overhead fluorescent lights. There’s even a matching veil.

“It kind of smells like mothballs,” you say.

He smirks. “Don’t worry, baby, you won’t be wearing it long.”

Once Billy had picked out a pair of dress slacks that he felt were a tad too tight—until you’d been unable to remove your eyes from his rear, and then he’d said they fit just perfect after all—as well as a white button-up shirt, he’d gone over to the lingerie and gotten lucky when he’d found you a garter.

The two of you then went up and you stood by his side, smiling up at him, as he paid for your purchases, then asked about changing in-store.

Once the two of you emerged from the changing rooms, even he was blushing. So, you’d taken his hand in yours, and headed back out to the car together.

“Can we stop at a pawn shop first?”

He glances to you. “For?”

You reach in the backseat, grabbing a shoulder bag, then pulling your dad’s Rolex out. “I want to trade this. For a ring. For you.”

He nods then, sniffling. “Course, baby.”

“What about that one?”

Billy shakes his head. “It’s fuckin’ hideous.”

You raise a brow. He was worse than a woman when it came to jewelry, apparently.

You squint, looking into the late-night pawn shop’s display case, then kneeling in front of it, practically pressing your face up against the glass. You smile, pointing, looking up to the middle-aged shop-keep behind it. “Can I see that one?”

He nods, unlocking the display from his side, grabbing the ring you’d indicated, handing it to you.

You grab Billy’s left hand, sliding it onto his ring finger. And it’s a perfect fit. A simple gold band.

You stare up at him.

He looks to the man. “Will the Rolex cover this?”

“More than.”

Billy looks back to you. “We’ll take it.”

Once the two of you are sitting in the parking lot of the small chapel, it’s only then that you notice Billy is shaking.

You reach toward him, but he quickly exits the car, making his way around to your side, opening your door.

He doesn’t look at you.

You brush your thumb over his lips, quieting him. “And I always came back. Or you came for me. Billy, neither of us is perfect. No one alive is. But…that’s the point, right? Of falling in love? Loving someone despite their flaws. Or…helping them through them. Not just giving up when things get hard. I know what—who—I want. We’ve both said it: that we belong together.” You press yourself against his chest and he wraps his arms around you, kissing the crown of your head. “So let’s go make it official. No one is ever going to love me like you do.”

You then reach up, cupping his cheek, taking one of his hands in yours. “Are you okay? We…we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. If you want to wait, I’m okay with that. As long as we’re together- ”

He shakes his head, his hand trembling in yours. “What if…what if I fuck this up? I’ve already done it enough times already. I nearly lost you back in Oklahoma and then again in Texas. What if I turn out to be just like him and I hurt you, or-”

He rests his cheek against your veil. “Okay.”

You pull back, looking up at him with hopeful eyes, full of love.

“Let’s go get married.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“And do you, Billy Hargrove, take this little lady to be your lawfully wedded bride? To have and hold tender and sweet, to love and cherish, in sickness and in health, for riches—God willin’—or poorer, for better or worse, ‘till death do ya part?”

Being married by an Elvis impersonator was most-certainly going to be a story to remember.

Billy tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, his thumb tracing your jaw line, his other hand holding your right one. “I do.”

He reaches into his pocket, and when he pulls out his hand, a silver ring is held between his thumb and index finger.

Your brows furrow. He’d told you back at the pawn shop that he had your ring already covered, but refused to elaborate on how, until you were standing before one another exchanging vows.

He swallows thickly. “It was my mom’s,” he states, glancing to you, before sliding it onto your finger.

Unshed tears threaten to spill forth on both your parts.

“And do you, lil’ mama—Y/N—take this young stud, to be your hubby? To have and hold tender and sweet, to love and cherish, in sickness and in health, for riches or poorer, for better or worse, ‘till death do ya part?”

Your lip trembles as you stare up, into Billy’s beautiful, warm eyes. “I do.”

You slide the gold band you’d purchased less than half-an-hour ago onto his finger once again.

“Then, by the power vested in me by the great state of Nevada and the Lord Almighty, I do so pronounce you husband and bride. Now, my good man, kiss your lady.”

Billy leans down, cupping the back of your head, and crushing his lips to yours.

A woman who also works at the chapel snaps a few pictures of the two of you kissing, holding one another, and beaming up at each other and at the cheap disposable camera she holds in her hands.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

After the two of you exited the chapel holding hands, laughing, even crying a little, you’d gotten back into the car and Billy had driven you to a bar, insisting on having some form of a reception, even if it was just the two of you. In reality, he deeply wanted to have his first dance with you.

You stand in the middle of the room—the place near-empty; it was a tad dingy and small—waiting for Billy to select a song from the jukebox over in the corner. You know he’s found whatever he’s looking for when a small smile comes across his lips.

He comes back over to you, taking one of your hands in his, leaning his forehead down against yours just as Bob Dylan begins to hum the beginning of Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door, resting his other hand against the small of your back, pulling you in close.

You close your eyes, reaching up, tangling the fingers of your other hand in his hair, swaying back and forth with him to the slow song.

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

You open your eyes, tears slipping down your flushed cheeks as you press your lips to his own. “I love you.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When the two of you return to the motel, Billy leaves the door to the room open, blaring the song Don’t Stop Believin’ by Journey from the car’s stereo outside, tugging you up on the bed with him and the two of you begin to jump up and down on the mattress, holding onto one another, smiling, laughing, happier than either of you ever thought you could be. Would ever be.

He crushes his lips to yours, holding your face in his hands. He pulls back. “Promise me that you’re mine for forever.”

You wrap your arms around his neck. “Forever.”

#fic: stranger things (billy hargrove x reader)#billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you

51 notes · View notes

fuzzyautumninmetal · 5 hours

Text

Mi amor

I am working on Loving Husband pt 4 and something for Gaz. Just kinda hit a roadblock so I wrote something for Alejandro to get the gears working again

Alejandro Vargas x Fem!Reader

MDNI

In the tapestry of love, where threads of trust and affection intertwine, a sinister shadow had crept into your heart. Alejandro Vargas, the man you had cherished with all your being, was weaving a web of deceit that threatened to unravel the fabric of your relationship. Night after night, You would lie awake, your mind tormented by the tell-tale marks that adorned his neck. Hickeys and lipstick stains, like crimson whispers, betrayed his unfaithfulness. Yet, with each feeble excuse he offered, you clung to the desperate hope that it was all a misunderstanding.

The kisses you shared had lost their spark, replaced by a cold and distant formality. His embrace, once warm and comforting, now felt hollow and insincere. The touch that had once ignited a fire within you now left you feeling empty and unfulfilled. Driven by a gnawing suspicion, you confronted Alejandro, your voice trembling with both fear and anticipation. To you dismay, he dismissed your concerns with a nonchalant shrug, as if they were mere trifles. "It's nothing, mi amor" (my love) he insisted, his eyes meeting yours with a flicker of guilt.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you gazed at him, the pain slicing through your chest like a sharp blade. How could he be so cruel, so blatant about his betrayal? Alejandro's words hung heavy in the air, a palpable tension settling between you two. A part of him wanted to reassure you, to ease the worry etched on your face, but another part of him revelled in the chaos he'd created.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He could feel you tremble under his touch, your body betraying you despite your best efforts to remain composed. Alejandro leaned closer, his lips just inches away from yours. You smelled sweet, like fresh strawberries, a stark contrast to the bitter taste of deception that lingered in his mouth. With a smirk playing on his lips, he pulled back, his gaze never leaving yours.

A lump formed in your throat as you fought back tears, your heart pounding against your rib cage like a trapped bird desperately seeking freedom. The hurt was overwhelming, the pain raw and intense. You wanted to scream, to lash out, to demand answers. But instead, you remained silent, your gaze locked onto his, searching for some semblance of truth in those dark, deceiving eyes.

Alejandro turned without another word and left the home you shared for the night. You didn't know if he was going back to her or if he was spending the night at base. Either way you didn't care anymore. You couldn't care. You couldn't do this.

As the door closed behind him, the echoes of your sobs reverberated throughout the house, piercing his heart like a thousand knives. Each wail was a reminder of the damage he had caused, the lives he had shattered. And yet, he found himself unable to turn back, to mend what he had broken.

His mind raced with thoughts, each one more tormenting than the last. He could see you, curled up on their bed, weeping uncontrollably, your body wracked with grief. He could hear you, pleading with him to explain, begging for an answer that he simply did not have. He made his way to the base, the familiar sounds and sights offering little comfort. As he sat alone in the darkness, he could almost see your face, your eyes filled with despair.

You spent the rest of the night alone, your body numb from the emotional turmoil. Your heart ached, the pain radiating outward until it consumed every inch of you. The world around you blurred, the colours fading into shades of grey, mirroring the emptiness that now resided within you. You curled up on the bed, the sheets still warm from his touch, a haunting reminder of his betrayal. You cried until there were no more tears, until your throat was raw and your eyes were swollen shut.

You weren't going to do this anymore, you weren't going to be his pretty little house wife that kept her mouth shut anymore. Without a second thought you began packing, you only pack the essentials as Alejandro could come back any second and convince you to stay with his sweet words and promises.

The morning light cast a harsh glare over the deserted streets, highlighting the dust particles suspended in the air. It was a new day, a new beginning, but for Alejandro, it brought with it a sense of dread and unease.

He had spent the remainder of the night wrestling with his conscience, the ghosts of his past mistakes haunting him relentlessly. He knew what he had done was wrong, that he had crossed a line he shouldn't have. But it was too late for regrets, too late for apologies.

As he made his way back to the house, he could sense your presence, could feel your anger and resentment emanating from the very walls. He stood outside, hesitating before finally mustering the courage to walk inside. But it was too late. You had already packed your bags, your decision final.

Two years. Two years since you walked away from him, from the life you both had built, from the love that had once felt like an anchor. You were a Sergeant now, a cog in the machine of Task Force 141. Your days were filled with the guttural roar of engines, the metallic tang of blood, and the constant hum of adrenaline.

Two years to Alejandro... It seemed like an eternity, a lifetime spent in regret and remorse. The pain was still fresh, the wound still raw, but time had dulled the sharp edges, making it bearable. He was successful, respected, feared even. But it all felt empty, hollow. There was a void in his heart, a space once occupied by love and affection, now filled with bitterness and resentment.

Did Alejandro miss you? Yes, he missed your smile, your laughter, your touch. But he also missed the fights, the make-ups, the sex, the simple routine of living together.

In the dim, amber-hued glow of the pub, the jubilant laughter of Task Force 141 echoed through the air. After a perilous and triumphant mission, Price had gathered the team for a well-deserved celebration and a good catch up with old friends from a past mission. One you weren't apart of.

As the door swung open, the chatter subsided momentarily. Your eyes scanned the crowded room, but your heart jumped to your throat when they landed on Alejandro. Dressed in his signature dark attire, his rugged features were as handsome as you remembered. Time seemed to stand still as your gaze locked with his.

Alejandro's breath hitched, a sudden tightness forming in his chest as his gaze collided with yours. Your presence was undeniable, your essence filling the room, clouding his senses. For a moment, he was transported back to their shared past, to the warmth of their shared moments.

He tried to shake off the feeling, to dismiss it as mere nostalgia, but it was too strong, too real. His heart pounded against his ribs, a wild rhythm that echoed the chaotic symphony of his conflicted emotions. He raised his hand, signalling for a drink. His fingers wrapped around the glass, the cold liquid doing nothing to quell the burning sensation in his gut.

You spent 2 years not thinking about Alejandro. The feelings you once felt you pushed away, stored them in a box and placed in the depth of your mind. But seeing him here. Right now. Brought them all back, the love, the hate, the longing for him. All came back just like that and you hated yourself for it.

You took a deep breath, pushed some strands of hair out of your face and put on a smile as you sat next with the rest of your team. Did they know? About you and Alejandro? About what he did?

His eyes remained fixed on you, watching as you settled among your companions. A part of him wanted to approach you. But another part, a smaller but louder voice, urged caution. He downed his drink in one go, the alcohol burning a path down his throat. It was a bitter taste, but it served its purpose - it numbed the ache in Alejandro's heart, if only for a fleeting moment. He ordered another drink, his gaze never leaving yours. This time, however, he wasn't sure if he was challenging fate or merely prolonging the inevitable.

"Aye, come on lass" Soap wiggled his eyebrows as he put his arm on the table. The whole team have been trying to get you to have an arm wrestle with Soap.

"No because the last time I did that the fucker nearly broke my arm." You laughed as you kept declining but they wouldn't give up.

"You won't be put on cleaning duties for a week!" Price negotiated. Giving you a deal you couldn't refuse. "Fine" You rolled your eyes with a smile as you hooked your hand with Soaps.

Alejandro's heart skipped a beat as he watched you laugh, your eyes sparkling with mischief. He found himself drawn to you, captivated by the sight of you. Despite everything, to Alejandro you were still beautiful, still irresistible. He watched as you declined the challenge, your refusal met with teasing remarks from the others. Seeing you relent, your resolve crumble under pressure, stirred something within him. Alejandro found himself rooting for you, silently willing you to win.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you gripped Soap's hand, the thrill of competition sending a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins. You could almost hear the whispers of encouragement from your teammates, their voices echoing in your ears like a chorus of support. Your muscles flexed, your biceps straining under the weight of Soap's formidable grip. A few beads of sweat trickled down your forehead, stinging your eyes as you dug deep, pushing past the limits of your endurance.

"Joder. Mierda. Cabrón" (Fuck. Shit. Bastard) You mutter through gritted teeth. A small habit you picked up from Alejandro. A small habit that you do subconsciously.

His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing the rhythmic clench and release of his fist. He watched intently as you struggled against Soap, his own competitive nature kicking in. A surge of pride welled up within him, his hands balling into fists at his sides. Your resilience, your determination, they reminded him of you, of who you used to be. You were fierce, unyielding, a force to be reckoned with. And yet, there was something endearing about it, something that tugged at his heartstrings.

"Vamos, mi amor," (Come on, my love) he murmured under his breath, urging her on despite himself.

With every ounce of strength left in you body, you push against Soap. Sweat drips down your face as you feel your arm shaking. Your knuckles turn white as you dig your nails into the flesh of Soap's hand. 'This is it... I can either give up or keep going...' You think to yourself as you take a deep breath before giving one final push. Your arm shakes violently but you hold on. You manage to push Soap's hand down first and you let out a victory roar.

The room erupted in cheers and applause, the noise drowning out the pounding of his heart in his ears. He watched, transfixed, as you raised your arms in triumph, your face flushed with exertion and victory. There was something about you, something raw and untamed, that drew him in. It was the same thing that had initially attracted him to you, the same spark that had ignited their relationship all those years ago.

A thought crossed his mind, a question that lingered in the depths of his consciousness: Was it possible to forgive and forget? Or would the past always haunt him, no matter how hard he tried to move forward?

"You owe me a drink MacTavish!" You ruffled Soaps hair as you sat back down. You glanced at Alejandro before quickly looking away. Time has been kind to him, god dammit he looks even sexier than when you first met him. Gaz, Ghost and Price noticed your glance and smirked at you. "I can introduce you?" Ghost offered but you quickly shut him down "I'm good." You grabbed your drink off Soap, "On that note I'm going for a smoke." You, rather quickly, made your way to the smoking area. Not giving Alejandro a second glance.

As soon as you stood up, he moved swiftly, intercepting you before you could make your escape. His large hand gently grasping your upper arm, halting your progress. You stopped dead in your tracks as you felt his firm grasp around your arm. Your heart rate spiked as you turned to look at him.

"Un momento, mi amor," (One moment, my love) he said softly, his voice barely audible over the din of the bar. There was a certain urgency in his tone, a plea hidden beneath the calm exterior. His eyes bore into yours, searching for some sign of recognition, of understanding. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing the rhythm of his racing thoughts.

"I need to talk to you," he continued, his voice steady now, determined.

"We have nothing to talk about" You whispered harshly. A million thoughts raced through your head "And I am not your love anymore." You pulled away from him, your words slicing through him like a knife. He watched as you walked away, his gaze trailing after your retreating figure. For a moment, he simply stood there, rooted to the spot. The sting of rejection was sharp, a bitter pill that he had trouble swallowing. "But we did have something," he muttered under his breath, his fingers tightening into a fist at his side.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax. He couldn't afford to let his emotions get the best of him. Not now, not here. You lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. The nicotine hit your system immediately and you closed your eyes letting the rush wash over you. "Mierda" (Shit) You cursed under your breath. He leaned against the wall, his arms folded across his chest. His eyes never leaving you, watching as you inhaled deeply, the tip of the cigarette glowing brightly in the dim light.

His mind wandered back to the past, to the days when they were together. The memories flooded back, vivid and clear. The laughter, the passion, the love they shared. But then reality struck, like a punch to the gut. You were different now, changed by war and time. And so was he. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to do next. He approached you slowly, his boots clicking against the concrete floor. Each step echoing in the silence, the tension hanging heavy between them.

"You know, I still remember our first kiss," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked at you, his brown eyes holding an intensity that you haven't seen before. "It was at the beach. We went for a walk after our third date. You were wearing this tiny little dress, and your hair... it was loose, flowing around your shoulders." He paused, a soft smile gracing his lips. "And then you looked at me, with those beautiful eyes of yours. And everything else just disappeared."

Your eyes flickered to meet his. The intensity in his gaze made your stomach flutter and you quickly looked away. "¡Basta¡" (Stop it!) You spat. Your heart rate picked up as you remembered the first time you kissed him. How he tasted like tequila and desire. You threw the butt of the cigarette away and walked to the bathroom.

God damn him! Why does he have to be so fucking charming!

He watched her go, a frown creasing his forehead. Your reaction stung, but he wasn't deterred. If anything, it only spurred him on. 'I won't give up,' he thought, determination burning in his eyes. 'Not until she hears me out.' With newfound resolve, he strode towards the bathroom, his long strides eating up the distance between him and his goal.

You heard his footsteps approaching behind you and you quickened your pace. You knew if you didn't get away from him soon, you'd end up caving in and forgiving him for all his sins. You pushed open the door to the women's bathroom and stepped inside. You were alone, thank god. You sighed in relief and ran your hands through your hair. You needed a minute to collect yourself.

The door swung open with a force that echoed throughout the room, causing you to jump. You turned to see Alejandro standing there, his hands resting on his hips. His dark hair was dishevelled, strands falling onto his forehead.

"Mi amor" he began, his voice softer now, more pleading. "Please listen to me."

Alejandro took a step closer, his eyes meeting yours. The intensity in his gaze was almost palpable, a tangible thing that seemed to fill the small space between them.

"I made a mistake, okay? I fucked up. But I'm not asking you to forget about it. All I want is another chance. Just one more chance, mi amor." (my love)

Your heart hammered in your chest and you felt the familiar heat spreading across your cheeks. God damn him! "How dare you come in here!" You snapped, pointing towards the door. "Get out!" You turned your back to him and started rummaging through your bag. You needed to focus on something other than his presence. You grabbed your lipstick and started applying it, trying to ignore his presence.

He watched you, his gaze intense yet tender. He could sense your discomfort, the way your body stiffened whenever he got close. But he also saw the faint blush on your cheeks, the tell-tale sign of her attraction. He took a step back, his hands raised in surrender. "I just wanted to talk. That's all." He waited patiently, giving you the space you clearly needed. But his eyes never left your, his gaze unwavering.

You froze as you heard his voice. You could feel his eyes on you and it sent shivers down your spine. You finished applying your lipstick and placed the tube back into your bag. "We have nothing to talk about." You walked past him and left the bathroom, you needed to go home. You couldn't stay here. If you drink anymore you'll end up doing something stupid.

By doing you mean fucking.

And by stupid you mean Alejandro.

You walked to the table and grabbed your jacket, everyone looked at you weirdly but you said nothing. Without another glance you left the pub and went home. Watching you leave, Alejandro felt a pang of disappointment. He had hoped that tonight would be different, that maybe you would listen to him. But it seemed like you were determined to push him away.

As he watched you disappear into the night, he muttered under his breath,* "This isn't over." With renewed determination, he finished off his drink and headed to the hotel, vowing to find a way to win you back. You walked home feeling drained. You hated how easily Alejandro could make you feel things. You entered your apartment and locked the door behind you. You kicked off your shoes and collapsed onto your couch. You closed your eyes and tried to clear your mind.

But all you could think about was Alejandro.

About how his stubble used to scratch against your skin when he kissed you. About how his hands used to roam your body. About how he use to whisper sweet nothings in your ear. About how he used to make love to you.

Back at the hotel, Alejandro found himself unable to sleep. His mind kept replaying their last conversation, each word etched deeply within him. In the middle of the night, he decided to take action. He dressed quickly and headed out, destination - your apartment.

When he reached your place, he knocked softly on the door, hoping you would hear him over the pounding of his own heartbeat. You were woken abruptly to someone knocking on your door, you checked your phone to see it was 12 am. Who the fuck is knocking on your door at 12 am in the fucking morning?

"Alright I'm coming. I'm coming" You grumbled as you tumbled out of bed and walked to the front door. You opened the door and didn't registers Alejandro straight away. After a moment of you blinking to wake up you finally recognised him. You scowled "What the fuck are you doing. It's 12 in the morning"

His heart pounded in his chest as he stared at you through the crack in the door. You looked so beautiful, even at this hour. Your hair was tousled from sleep, some strands sticking to your face. Your eyes were heavy-lidded, your lips slightly parted. "I know it's late," he said quietly, trying to keep his voice steady. "But I need to talk to you." He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "It's important. Please."

"No" You said firmly and went to shut the door in his face. Caught off guard by your firm rejection, he stumbled back a step as you attempted to shut the door in his face. But he was quicker, stronger than you expected. With a swift move, he pushed the door open, stepping into your apartment.

You stood there frozen as Alejandro stepped inside your apartment. Your heart raced with anger. "Típica de mierda" (Fucking typical) Of course Alejandro just barges into your apartment, he was never good when being told no. "You can't just come into my home because you're not getting what you want!"

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. He knew he'd fucked up, but he was here now, and he wasn't leaving without talking to you. "I know I don't deserve it," Alejandro admitted, looking you directly in the eye. "But please. Just hear me out." He took another step closer, reaching out to gently touch your arm. Despite his assertiveness, there was an underlying vulnerability in his tone that was hard to ignore.

You flinched as he touched your arm, you pulled away and crossed your arms over your chest. You glared at him defiantly "We have nothing to talk about." His heart sank as you pulled away from him. He could see the defiance in your eyes, the wall you had built around yourself. But he wasn't giving up just yet.

"We do," he insisted, taking a step closer. "There's a lot we need to discuss." He reached out again, touching your arm once more. This time, he held on tighter, not letting you pull away. You felt your blood boil as he touched you again. You wanted to slap him across the face but you restrained yourself. You were angry but you also missed him, you missed the way he used to look at you, the way he used to hold you close. You loved him despite everything. "No they're isn't"

His eyes softened as he looked at you, seeing the conflict in your gaze. He knew he had hurt you, but Alejandro also knew that you still cared for him. "There is," he insisted, holding onto your arm tightly. "And I won't leave until we've talked." He moved closer, standing mere inches away from you. He could smell your scent, the one that always drove him wild. He leaned in closer, his lips almost brushing against yours.

Your heart started to race as he got closer to you. You felt your knees go weak as he leaned in to kiss you. You moved your head back, away from his lips. "We don't have anything to talk about" You repeated. His eyes flickered with frustration as you continued to deny him, but he refused to give up. He needed to talk to you, to explain himself. "Yes, we do," he insisted, pinning you against the wall with his body. He leaned in closer, pressing his body flush against yours. He could feel your heart racing against his chest, and it only made him more determined.

You squirmed as he pressed his body against yours. You hated how good it felt, how right it felt to be this close to him again. You missed him more than you ever thought possible. "Let go of me Alejandro"

His grip tightened around your arm as you tried to push him away. He could feel your heart pounding beneath his chest, matching the rhythm of his own. "No," he murmured, leaning in closer. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your neck. His lips traced along the skin of your collarbone, causing shivers to run down your spine.

You gasped as he kissed your neck, your body betraying you. You moaned softly as he trailed kisses down your collarbone. "You're an asshole" He chuckled softly, his lips trailing up to meet yours. The taste of your mouth was intoxicating, filling him with desire. "And you're still the most infuriating woman I know," he murmured against your lips. "But I'm not going anywhere until we've talked." You wrapped your arms around his neck as he kissed you. You kissed him back passionately, missing the way his lips felt against yours. You hated how much you missed him, how much you still loved him.

Alejandro groaned into your mouth, deepening the kiss. His hands moved from your arms to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer against him. His tongue explored the depths of your mouth, tasting every inch of you. He could feel his arousal growing as you responded to his touch, your body melting against his own.

You kissed him back with more passion, your body betraying you. You moaned into his mouth as his tongue explored your mouth. You ran your fingers through his hair as he pick you up, with a low growl. He lifted you off your feet, wrapping your legs around his waist. He carried you over to the couch, setting you down gently before moving on top of you.

His lips found their way to your neck, nipping and kissing along the sensitive skin. His hands roamed over your body, tracing every curve and crevice. Alejandro's hands moved lower, slipping under your shirt to caress your stomach. He could feel your muscles tense under his touch, and he knew you were fighting your feelings for him.

"You still want me," he whispered against your ear, nipping lightly at the lobe. "Admit it." He ground his hips against yours, making sure you felt the hardness straining against his pants.

"I don't want you" You whispered as you bit your lip as his hands moved to unbutton your shirt, revealing your bare breasts. He gazed at them appreciatively before leaning down to take one of your nipples into his mouth. You hated how much you still wanted him, how much your body craved his touch.

"Liar" he murmured against your skin, sucking lightly on the hardened peak. He slid your shorts off, leaving you naked beneath him. His hand moved down between your thighs, rubbing teasing circles against your clit. "I can feel how much you want me," he whispered, leaning down to capture your lips in another searing kiss.

"I hate you" You mumbled against his lips as you reached for the hem of his shirt to take it off. He laughed softly, removing his shirt to reveal his muscular torso. His hand continued its exploration of your body, tracing down your thigh before returning to tease your clit.

"Don't pretend like you don't remember how good this feels," he murmured against your ear, nibbling lightly on the lobe. You arched your hips into his touch, moaning softly as he rubbed your clit. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on something else, anything else but the pleasure he was giving you "¡Cállate la boca!" (Shut your mouth)

He grinned, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "Never" he breathed, before moving down your body. His lips trailed kisses down your stomach, stopping at your hips to nip playfully at the flesh there. His tongue flicked out to tease her clit, making you gasp and writhe beneath him. His hands held your hips down, keeping you in place as he explored you with his tongue.

"Puto cabrón" (Fucking asshole) You gasped, your body arching off the couch. your fingers finding home his Alejandro's hair.

He chuckled against you, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure coursing through you. His tongue delved deeper, exploring every fold and crevice of your cunt.

"Oh cariño..." (Oh darling) he murmured, looking up at you. "You taste even better than I remembered." His fingers joined in the pleasuring, sliding into your wetness. He began to pump them in and out slowly, curling them to hit all the right spots inside you.

Your body trembled under his touch, your breath coming in short gasps. You tried to push him away, but instead found yourself pushing your hips towards his face. He chuckled, continuing his assault on your cunt. His tongue delved deeper, fucking you with slow thrusts while his fingers pumped in and out of your tight hole. "Does my la angelita like that?" (little angel) he asked, nipping lightly at your inner thigh.

You glared down at him, your cheeks flushed with desire and anger. Your nails dug into his scalp as your legs started to shake. You were so close, so fucking close. He continued to lick and suck at you, driving you closer and closer to the edge. His fingers curled inside you, hitting just the right spot to send shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

"Come for me, mi amor" he cooed, nuzzling his face into her folds. You couldn't hold back any longer, your body convulsing as an orgasm ripped through you. You cried out, your voice echoing through the room as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you.

Alejandro continued to lap at you, riding out your orgasm until you were left panting and spent beneath him. He finally pulled away, wiping his mouth on his forearm. "Still hate me?" He asked with a smirk, leaning down to give you a quick kiss on the lips. You panted heavily, your body still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm. You glared up at him, hating how much you enjoyed his touch, how much you craved his attention.

His dark eyes scanned your body, taking in your flushed state and tousled appearance. A wicked grin spread across his face as he leaned down to capture your lips in another passionate kiss. "I'm going to make you forget all about that hatred." He promised, trailing hot kisses down your neck.

You returned his kiss eagerly, despite yourself. You moaned softly as he kissed down your neck, shivering at the sensation of his stubble scratching against your sensitive skin. "Alejandro" you sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck and he picked you up and carried you to your bedroom. He laid you gently on the bed, his gaze roving over your body. He knelt beside you, his fingers ghosting along your thighs as he pushed them apart. You watched him intently, your heart pounding in your chest. You bit your lip nervously as he spread your legs, exposing you completely to his gaze.

"Alejandro" you whispered, reaching for him. But he evaded your grasp, choosing instead to lean down and run his tongue along your slit. He chuckled softly, his breath warm against your wet folds. His tongue delved deeper, exploring every inch of your cunt.

"You're so delicious, mi amor" he murmured against you, before beginning to fuck you with his tongue. His hands held your hips down, keeping you in place as he drove you closer and closer to the edge once more.

"puto cabrón" (Fucking asshole) You whimpered and moaned, your body writhing beneath his touch. You clenched your fists in the sheets, desperately trying to hold onto some semblance of control. "No....no more." You tried to move away but his hold on your hips stopped you. "Alejandro please" You manage to choke out as you were becoming overstimulated "I....I can't."

Alejandro might not be able to make you forgive him but he will make you forget. For a while at least.

Ignoring your pleas, he continued to devour you. His tongue delved deeper, curling inside you to hit all the right spots. His hands gripped your hips tighter, preventing you from pulling away. "You can't what, mi amor? Can't come? Can't scream my name?" (my love) he teased, nipping lightly at your clit.

"No...I can't take anymore" You said between pants, your body shaking with need. You reached down to try and pull his head away from you, but he easily swatted your hand away. "Para por favor, Alejandro" (Please stop) you begged, tears pricking at your eyes.

He looked up at you, a devilish grin spreading across his face. His tongue slid lazily over your clit, giving it a light suck. "But mi amor," he murmured against you.

You whimpered, your body arching off the bed as another wave of pleasure rolled through you. You clenched your teeth together, trying to hold back the moan that threatened to escape. "Shut up!" You snapped, rolling your hips towards his face. Despite everything, you still wanted him, needed him. He chuckled softly, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. His tongue continued its relentless assault on your clit, teasing and flicking until you were squirming beneath him. "Admit it, mi amor," he murmured against you, "you love when I do this."

You gasped, your body tensing as another wave of pleasure crashed over you. You clenched your teeth together, trying to stifle the moan that threatened to escape. "No" You choked out. It was a lie. Obviously it was a lie, you don't remember the last time someone focused on your pleasure....yes you do.

It was Alejandro.

He ignored your denial, continuing to lick and tease your clit. His hands moved to grip your ass, lifting your hips higher so he could get even better access to your pussy. "Say it," he demanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Tell me how much you love this."

Your body was trembling now, your whole world narrowed down to the feel of his tongue on your clit. You couldn't think straight, couldn't form words. You grab a fistful of his hair and rolled your hips onto his face. He groaned into your pussy, the vibration causing your body to spasm. His hands tightened their grip on your ass, pulling you closer to his mouth.

Your nails dug into his scalp as you bucked your hips against his face. Your body was coiling tighter and tighter, the pressure building until you thought you'd explode. "Fuck! Alejandro!" You cried out, your body convulsing as an orgasm ripped through you. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over you, making your limbs shake and your vision blur.

He continued to lap at your clit, milking your orgasm for all it was worth. Only when you had finally gone limp beneath him did he slow his movements, licking delicately at your now-sensitized flesh. "That's it, mi amor," he mumbled against you, a note of satisfaction in his voice.

As your orgasm slowly faded, you lay there panting, your body feeling like jelly. You turned your head to look at Alejandro, your eyes filled with a mix of desire and resentment. "I hate you," you managed to choke out, even though your actions spoke otherwise. A wicked smile spread across his face as he pulled himself up your body, his cock pressing against your soaked cunt. He leaned down to capture one of your nipples between his teeth, nibbling lightly.

"Oh? And why is that, mi amor?" He asked, his voice thick with lust.

"Because I still love you." You admitted, your voice was barely above a whisper.

You couldn't lie to yourself anymore, you thought you hated him. You believed it as well but seeing him tonight made you realise how much you missed him and how much you fucking love him despite everything he did. His brown eyes glowed with satisfaction as he heard your confession. He captured your lips in a deep kiss, his tongue exploring the warmth of your mouth. You kissed him back, your body responding to his touch despite everything.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you. "Make me forget," you whispered against his lips. You pulled away and gently grabbed his face "Por favor cariño" (Please darling) even if it was just for 1 night. You wanted him to make love to you again.

A soft smile graced his lips as he looked down at you, his brown eyes darkening with desire. "With pleasure, mi amor," he murmured against your lips before capturing them in a searing kiss. Alejandro moved over you, his cock rubbing against your entrance before he pushed himself inside you. He let out a low groan as he buried himself to the hilt inside you. You gasp as he pushes into you, your body stretching to accommodate his size. The sensation of being filled by him sends shivers down your spine.

He started moving slowly, taking his time as he thrust in and out of you. His hands roamed your body, caressing every inch of skin he could reach. "Ah... Alejandro..." You whimpered, your fingers digging into his shoulders. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you.

You meet his thrusts, pushing back against him. The pace quickens, but you're not looking for release this time. You want something different, something more. You want him to show you how much he loves you. He groans at your words, he leans down to capture one of your nipples between his teeth, biting down lightly. "You're so tight, mi amor," he whispered against your skin. "I could stay like this forever." The room is filled with the sound of your moans and his groans as he makes love to you. There's no rush, no need to finish quickly. Just the two of you lost in each other.

You whimper softly as he bites down on your nipple, the slight pain sending sparks of pleasure through your body. You arch your back, pushing more of your breast into his mouth. "Alejandro..." You moan again, your fingers tightening in his hair. You pull him closer, wanting to feel his hot breath on your skin.

Your body moves rhythmically with his, meeting each thrust with one of your own. The sensation of being filled by him is overwhelming, but you crave it. You crave him. His thrusts become slower, more deliberate. He takes his time, savouring every moment of being inside you. His cock throbs within you, precum leaking from the tip.

"God," he groans, his voice thick with desire. "You feel amazing." He continues to move slowly, his cock sliding in and out of your soaking wet cunt. He reaches down to rub at your clit, adding another layer of pleasure to the already intense experience.

As you moved his hand from between your legs, you could feel his eyes on you, watching your every move. You rolled over so that you were now on top, straddling him. You placed your hands on his chest for support as you began to move your hips slowly, Alejandro let out a low groan as you began to bounce on his cock. You leaned forward, your hair falling in a curtain around their faces as you kissed him deeply. As you straddle him, his hands go to your hips, helping guide your movements. He lets out a low growl as you start bouncing on his cock. "Carajo, baby," (Fuck) he groans against your lips.

He thrusts up into you as you come down onto him, his cock sliding deep inside you. His hands move from your hips to squeeze at your ass cheeks. He pulls away from your lips and locks his eyes with yours as he watches you ride him, the sight of you bouncing on his cock driving him wild. You began panting heavily as you continue to ride him. Your breasts bounce with each movement, rubbing against his chest. You look down at him, your eyes meeting his brown ones.

"Fuck me, Alejandro," you moan, your voice husky with desire. You lean down and suck on his neck, marking him as your own once more.

His grip on your hips tightens as you continue to ride him. He thrusts up into you harder, matching your movements. "Cómo te deseo, mi amor," (How I desire you, my love) he groans, feeling your nails dig into his skin. "Te quiero tanto..." (I love you so much)

He flips you onto your back, his body hovering over yours. His cock slides back inside you, filling you completely. "I'll fuck you until you can't walk straight," he promises, his voice a rough whisper. You gasp as he flips you onto your back, his body hovering over yours. His cock slides back inside you, filling you completely. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you.* "Sí. Sí. Por favor" (Yes. Yes. Please)

"Oh Dios, Alejandro," (Oh God) you moan, your body arching off the bed. You reach up and grab hold of his hair, pulling him down for a rough kiss. "Te quiero" (I love you)

He growls into the kiss, his thrusts becoming more desperate. He can't get enough of you, needing to be joined with you in every way possible. His hands roam all over your body, squeezing and groping. His mouth trails down your neck, nipping and sucking at your skin.

"No te detengas... Por favor, no te detengas" (Don't stop... Please don't stop) You cry out as he thrusts into you, his cock hitting all the right spots. "Te he echado mucho de menos," (I've missed you so much) you writhe beneath him, your body wracked with pleasure.

You have forgotten your mother tongue as you start mumbling in Spanish. "Muéstrame cuánto me amas" (Show me how much you love me)

He grunts, his thrusts becoming erratic. He can feel his climax approaching, but he fights it, not wanting to finish just yet. "Te amo, mi amor," (I love you, my love) he pants, his voice hoarse. "Te amo más que a nada en este mundo." (I love you more than anything in this world) His pace slows slightly as he tries to regain control of himself. He looks down at you, his brown eyes filled with affection.

You gasp as he slows his thrusts, trying to regain control. You reach up and cup his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. "Entonces muéstrate, Alejandro," (Then show me) your voice is gentle but firm, leaving no room for argument. You want him to prove his love for you, to show you just how much he cares.

He nods, understanding what you're asking for. He leans down and captures your lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth. His hands move from your hips to your ass, lifting your butt off the bed. He thrusts into you hard, his cock buried deep inside you. He breaks the kiss only to trail hot kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking at your skin.

Your breath hitches as he lifts your butt off the bed, his thrusts becoming harder and faster. You moan loudly, your body writhed beneath him. "Alejandro..." you whimper his name, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Dónde está tu control?" (Where is your control?) He's made love to you before, many times before but he's never fucked you like this before. You reach up and grab hold of his hair, pulling him down for another rough kiss while your hips grind against his. He growls into the kiss, his thrusts becoming even more frantic. He can feel his climax approaching, but he doesn't want to finish just yet.

"Te necesito," (I need you) he groans against your lips. "Necesito más de ti." (I need more of you)

His words are punctuated by a particularly hard thrust, causing you to gasp in surprise. But instead of slowing down, he continues at the same pace, showing no signs of stopping. His cock burying itself deep within you. Your body tenses up, a wave of pleasure washing over you.

"Alejandro!" You cry out his name, your voice echoing throughout the room. "Estoy tan cerca..." (I'm so close) Your body starts to shake, the orgasm building up inside you. You can feel it bubbling under the surface, ready to explode any second now.

He feels you tense up beneath him, knows that you're close to reaching your peak. He quickens his pace, driving himself deeper into you. "Mejor que nunca, mi amor," (Better than ever, my love) he groans, his voice filled with satisfaction. "Te haré alcanzar el cielo y volverás por más." (I'll make sure you reach for the sky and you'll come back for more)

His thrusts become more powerful, his cock slamming into you over and over again. He watches as your face contorts in pleasure, loving the sight of you losing yourself to ecstasy. Your body shudders as an intense orgasm rips through you, causing your muscles to spasm. You cry out loudly, your voice filled with pure bliss.

"Alejandro!" You scream his name, your body shaking uncontrollably. "Dios mío!" (Oh God) The pleasure is overwhelming, making it difficult for you to think straight. All you can do is cling onto him tightly, riding out the waves of ecstasy coursing through your veins.

He grunts as he feels you clench around his cock, your body trembling beneath him. He can tell that you're experiencing an intense orgasm and it drives him wild. "¡Maldita sea!" (Damn it!) he curses, his thrusts becoming even more frenzied. "Quiero sentirte ahogada en tu propia placer." (I want to feel you drowning in your own pleasure) His hands grip your hips tightly as he pounds into you relentlessly. He can feel his own climax approaching rapidly, spurred on by the sight of you lost in ecstasy.

You're still recovering from your first orgasm when he plunges into you once more, filling you completely. The sensation sends a shockwave through your body, causing you to gasp in surprise. "Al!" You cry out again, your voice shaky and breathless.* "Por favor..." (Please)

Your body trembles beneath him, unable to withstand the intensity of his thrusts. But despite the discomfort, there's a part of you that craves for more - wants to experience everything that he has to offer. He grunts as he feels you tighten around his cock, your body quivering underneath him. He can tell that you're on the brink of another orgasm and it excites him.

"Mírame, mi amor," (Look at me, my love) he whispers huskily, leaning down to capture your gaze with his own. "Quiero que veas solo a mí cuando llegues al éxtasis." (I want you to see only me when you get to ecstasy) His thrusts become slower but deeper, ensuring that every inch of his length is buried inside you. He wants you to focus solely on him - to feel nothing but pleasure when you finally succumb to ecstasy.

You lock gazes with him, your grey eyes wide and filled with desire. His words echo in your mind, spurring you on towards the edge of another orgasm. "Alejandro" you whimper his name, your voice barely audible. "Soy tuya." (I'm yours)

Your body convulses beneath him once more as another wave of pleasure crashes over you. This time however, it's different - stronger than before. It feels like everything inside you is being squeezed tight, causing tears to well up in your eyes.

"I... I'm yours..." you manage to choke out between gasps for air.

He grunts in satisfaction as he feels you squeeze around his cock, your body convulsing beneath him. He can feel your orgasm rippling through you and it pushes him over the edge. "¡Sí! ¡Sí!" (Yes! Yes!) he roars triumphantly, thrusting one last time into your spasming cunt before he releases himself inside of you.

His body goes rigid above yours as he rides out his climax, filling you with warm seed. The feeling is incredible - like nothing else he's ever experienced before. "S-so good," You pant, you manage to remember how to speak English again, your voice barely audible as you struggle to catch your breath. "Fe-feels amazing..."

Your body continues to twitch and convulse long after both of you have reached climax. Every inch of you seems sensitive - every touch sending jolts of pleasure shooting through your veins.

He collapses onto you, his weight pressing down on top of you. He can feel his heart pounding against his chest, each beat echoing in his ears. "You're amazing," he murmurs into your ear, his voice hoarse from all the screaming and moaning.

His hand reaches up to stroke your cheek gently, wiping away a tear that had managed to escape earlier. He pulls back slightly so he could look at you better - taking in every detail of your flushed face and dishevelled appearance.

You let out a soft sigh as he strokes your cheek, the warmth of his touch sending pleasant shivers down your spine. Your body feels heavy and satisfied - every muscle exhausted yet fully content.

"I love you," You murmur quietly, closing your eyes as you bask in the afterglow of your orgasms.

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips, despite the fact that you're still panting heavily. You reach up to run your fingers through his hair, enjoying this moment alone with him. He smiles softly at your confession, his thumb brushing gently against your cheekbone.

"I know, mi amor," he whispers, leaning down to press a tender kiss against your lips. "And I love you too." His hand moves from your face to trace lazy patterns along your collarbone. He can feel the rapid thump-thump of your heartbeat under his fingertips - a rhythmic reminder of what they've just shared together.

And just like that. Time became irrelevant, and the world faded into a distant hum. For you and Alejandro, all that mattered was the present, a timeless moment where love and connection reigned supreme.

#call of duty #cod mw2 #cod mwii #call of duty mwii #alejandro vargas x female reader #alejandro cod #alejandro vargas #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas smut

25 notes · View notes

wilsons-threelegged-siamese · 2 days

Text

NEW FIC ALERT???

Requested by @sleep-needer like 3 weeks ago, took me ages for no reason I do apologise-

Thank you to ml @lv3buzz for helping me with the last bit <33

Word count: 1.7k

Summary: Chases childhood and how he dealt with it.

Warnings: child abuse, neglect.

Say Goodbye to The Ones That we Love.

Only Chase knows why he has that scar on his head, and why he has so bad claustrophobia.

"Please! " He sobbed, trying to fight back his mother.

His mother, Jane, just kept ahold of him, her teeth gritting and eyes burning with fury. Chase kicked and screamed, desperately trying to get out of Jane's tight grasp. Yet, nothing worked, being a nine-year-old. Jane opened the door, threw the kid in and slammed the door behind him, locking it. Chase scrambled to the door, trying to turn the handle and pounding on the door frantically.

"Mummy!! Please! Let me out, " he begged.

It was no hope, it was never any hope, unfortunately. He briefly cleaned his tear stained face and sat curled up against the door. He brought his knees up to his chest, trying to even out his cut off breaths. He looked around the small, cramped office space. Until it hit him.

He was trapped.

Tears spewed from his eyes once again as his breathing drastically increased. His chest began to feel tight, as his heart rate fastened. With the shaking of his hands, he weakly brought them up to his ears and tucked his head in his knees. Everything was way too loud. He could hear the staggered steps of his mother, the beeping of the printer, it was all too much.

Suddenly, it was an hour later. He couldn't recall how long he'd been curled up, but his knees hurt now. He slowly let his legs slip in front of him as he looked around. Nothing had changed. His arms fell to his sides as the sound of his mother's snoring filled the blank noise. He almost sighed of relief, gradually getting up and browsing the books on his fathers bookshelf. He ran his finger over the spine of a couple dozen, carefully reading the titles. Soon, he picked a book. It was a nice colour of green, with a blue box in the middle with the words:

'Oxford Textbook of Medicine'

written on it. Chase was previously attracted to the colours, as he really liked the colour green. But, as he quickly flicked through the book, he saw fascinating diagrams of all sorts of anatomy. The labeling was extraordinary to him. He sat back down in his prior position and read through the pages, studying the pictures and skimming the words.

And that's when he decided he should be a doctor.

Every time he got locked into that room, he looked at one new book. He even managed to find a notebook and pen, jotting down little notes and scribbling rough diagrams. It gave him something to do, other than sit and wait helplessly for his mother to wake up or his father to come home unannounced. But once he'd read most of the books in the office (other than the ones on the top shelf), he became bored and fearful again. He dug around in his father's drawers, desperately trying to find maybe a hidden journal. Until, he found one. It was dusty, brown and quite battered. He picked it up and read the front of it.

'Melbournes rheumatology cases'

Although he couldn't read the second word, it seemed important as it was well hidden. He read the authors name, as he'd always been interested in people's names.

'Rowan Chase'

His mouth fell agape. Though he wasn't sure on the first name, he had heard his father being called 'Rohan' or something, and Chase was definitely their last names. He smiled giddily as he opened the book. But much to his surprise, there wasn't any diagrams. He frowned, skimming through the whole of the book to find a total of maybe 2 pictures. It was quite disappointing. Yet, he forced himself to read the book.

He yawned multiple times while reading, maybe that rheuma word wasn't for him. He closed the book with a grunt, pushing it aside and slumping against the door. He grabbed his pen and started to chew on it, he guesses it was something to do. So he gnawed on the pen. Until the plastic broke. He groaned, hurling the pen into the bookcase in frustration. He crossed his arms, pouting dramatically, until he heard a bloodcurdling scream from outside the door. That sounded like his mother.

He got up in a panic and pounded on the door.

"Mummy!!? What's wrong!! " He screamed.

Jane didn't reply, she just screeched again.

Chase scrambled to his feet and frantically looked at his fathers desk, scanning the well organised objects until he landed on the phone. Going through his memories, he remembered the emergency number. 000.

He hurriedly picked up the phone and dialed the number, impatiently waiting for the operator to answer.

"You have dialed Emergency Triple Zero, your call is being connected. "

He tapped his foot impatiently as he bit his lip. Jane continued to groan in the background. But finally, a Telstra Operator answered.

"Emergency. Police, fire or ambulance? "

"Am- ambulance, " Chase replied, his voice shaken and small.

The Telstra connected him with the ambulance line, them answering quickly to his call.

"Ambulance, what's your emergency? "

Chase gulped, "I- I don't know.. My mummy is screaming. "

"What's your name and age, sweetheart? "

"Robert, Robert Chase. I'm nine, " Chase muttered.

"Okay honey, and where are you? "

"My- my fathers office. "

"Well done sweetie, now can you stay on the line until the paramedics get here? "

"Mhm."

"Okay, good boy. Just keep talking to me okay? "

Chase kept talking to the nice operator until he heard a crash. He jumped, squeezing his eyes shut and placing his hand on his ear.

"Ma'am! Where is your son? "

A male American accent called, then Jane answered weakly. Just as Chase processed this, the door was opened in a strong force. Chase gasped, staring at open door and unfamiliar man in the doorway.

"Robert? " The man said softly, crouching in front of Chase.

Chase nodded, looking at the man with tears in his eyes.

"I'm Dr. House, your mum is okay. I need you to come with me. We'll keep you safe, " Dr. House explained, holding his hand out to let the little Chase grasp it.

He followed, trailing timidly behind the man. This Dr. House seemed quite nice. He had chestnut curls, piercing blue eyes and extremely chiseled facial features. He was clean shaven, but his hair was quite disheveled. Chase trusted him, though he was quite rude. Chase held tighter, suddenly feeling anxious. Once outside, Chase was loaded into an ambulance with House, getting strapped in and staring at the floor.

Lord this is gonna be a long night.

Chase sat, swinging his feet and sucking on a lollipop. He looked around at the foreign room, seeing a small kitchen, TV and some books. Books. His favourite. But, he had a lollipop so it was okay. Dr. House was sat next to him, grunting as he flicked through one of Chase's dads 'special daddy magazine's'.

"What's up with my mummy? " Chase suddenly asked, obnoxiously getting closer to House.

House scoffed, "natural process of having female anatomy. "

"Why? " Chase questioned, moving his sticky face closer to the man.

House pushed Chase down gently while rolling his eyes.

"Because your mum is female. "

"Why? "

"Because God wanted her to be. "

"Why? "

"Because God is a sexist bitch. "

"What's a bitch? "

"Female dog. "

"Why? "

"Shakespeare."

"What's that? "

House clenched his jaw and fist, ignoring the little Australian and going back to looking at the magazine. Chase gave up and continued looking around the quite bland room. There wasn't any colour or decorations, just a boring doctors staff room. He pouted, twirling the lollipop stick between his fingers as he'd finished the sweet.

The first time Chase realized he was taking care of his sister, was 3 months after she was born. After meeting Dr. House, after hearing his mother's screeching, after everything, he still didn't realize for 3 months that what he was doing wasn't normal. Only on his birthday did he realize.

"Mummy, why can't I have a party? I'm 10 now! " Chase exclaimed, trying to rock the crying baby and chasing after Jane.

"Shut up Robert! My god! " Jane shouted back.

She turned around sharply and kicked in the legs, causing him to yelp in pain and fall to his knees. He quickly held onto his baby sister, Bea, making sure she didn't fall. Jane speedily walked away to her room and slamming the door. Bea started to waile. Chase held her close and hushed her through his own crys, rocking her gently.

Now eleven-year-old Chase paced his kitchen, trying to think over the sound of the television. Jane drank heavily on the sofa, downing bottle after bottle of anything she could get her hands on. Chase audibly sighed, letting his gaze fall over to his hopeless mother. Bea slept restlessly in her cot, squirming because of the television noise. Chase noticed.

"Hey, ma, do you think you can maybe.. Turn the telly down a little? " Chase questioned scarcely, shuffling closer to the living room with hesitancy.

Jane abruptly turned around, letting her piercing blue eyes pierce through her son like a spear. Chase flinched as she brought her hand up, but she turned it down far much obnoxiously than necessary.

"That better for you, Robert? " She snarled, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Chase nodded in fear and scurried back the kitchen, bringing his hand up to his heart and sighing of relief. Just as he thought he fixed it, the television started to blare again as Jane hiccuped. Chase rolled his eyes to himself as Bea started to whine. Chase picked her up and held her on his chest. He bounced on his heels up and down, rubbing his hands up her back and whispering phrases to her. He quickly snagged a bottle from the side, inspected it and offered it to her. she took it with her hands and popped the teat into her mouth and sucked. Chase leant against the counter, rocking her subtly. But as she realized the bottle wasn't warm, she hurled it across the room in a fit and wailed again.

"When will that godamn baby stop screaming?! " Jane shouted, now chucking a beer bottle at the two.

Chase ducked, holding on tightly to Bea as they barely missed the discarded object. Chase sank to the floor, now sobbing, trying to tend to Bea and the new cut on his head.

Only Chase knows why he has that scar on his head, and why he has so bad claustrophobia.

#house md #gregory house #robert chase #backstory #my fics #fics #rhis took ages

24 notes · View notes

deliciousdefendorinternet · 3 days

Text

what do you think about the fan HC idea of Kismet being Branch's Foster Siblings from when he was a kid?

some fans came up with the idea of Kismet having been like Branch's foster siblings following Grandma's death and while I've always thought it wouldn't mesh well with his established backstory.

thinking about it more it could potentially work like I know its not super likely to be made cannon but bare with me lol it could be the first few years following the escape when he was too young to venture on his own Branch was in a home with other displaced kids thanks to Trollstice hence how he met the kismet members.

however maybe when they started their little bad obviously Branch wouldn't join at that point in his life and after a few years when he was a teenager and could live by himself that's when he went to build the bunker by himself in the woods.

and kismet kinda had to give him space eventually given how reclusive he became like when he was in the home he wasn't super social but he deffo got worse over the years I'd imagine. so they went off from the village touring and after the first movie Branch reconnected with them and finally agreed to join the band albeit on the downlow so Poppy didn't know.

so this way he'd have met them as children like a lot of fans wanted but it won't contradict his backstory of refusing to sing back then

and technically it wouldn't contradict Branch's words to his bros in TBT given it could very well still be the case that the kids weren't looked after properly and were mostly left to their own devices given most Pop Trolls just want to have fun.

idk its convoluted for sure lol but personally I like the fan HC of Kismet being like Branch's surrogate Bros and the idea of Branch having been through the Trolls equivalent of the care system gaining hardened overprotective foster siblings that his bio brothers would eventually meet I feel is super cute and interesting to think about.

like imagine an episode of a third tv show that was just foster siblings Kismet visiting Branch but for the first time ever Brozone is there as well and things are very awkward between the two sets of siblings.

with Kismet making passive aggressive Remarks at Bro zone every chance they get and asking Branch about his special interests being smug and Rubbing it in B zone's face how much better they know Branch than they do. tho ironically when it comes to actually listenening to Branch talk about his interests or actually doing them with him both sets of siblings are equally bored out of their minds but try to hide it in front of Branch 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂 and threatening to beat Bro zone up if they ever hurt Branch's feelings again.

while pretending to be polite and get along in front of Branch but in the end Branch does Realise the Tension that's been going on between them.

and it turns out Kismet were actually worried that they may be pushed out of their Dorky anti social little foster Bros life now that his "" real family "" have finally come back.

and maybe Bro zone are actually the ones to Reassure them that they don't want that given they appreciate that Branch clearly cares about them a lot.

and the two sets of siblings do call a truce for Branch's sake.

eh I know its not super likely but well they already added 4 never before mentioned siblings into the mix and Branch still has a lot of Grey area in his backstory.

all I'm saying is Branch having overprotective foster siblings is adorable as hell imo and it could technically work in cannon so why not? haha 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

besides Dreamworks ya could do with giving him some posotive additions to his backstory for a change as opposed to just more sad angst.

#trolls #trolls branch #dreamworks trolls #trolls brozone #trolls band together #branch trolls #branch #trolls dreamworks #brozone #trolls 3 #trolls kismet #trolls kismet vs brozone #trolls hc #trolls headcannons #trolls 4 ideas #trolls 4 #trolls third tv show

25 notes · View notes

vorish-wonderland · 1 year

Note

Can you write something with Azul accidentally/unaware swallows the mc?

You can't work for Azul anymore, you just can't! So you decide to shrink yourself with a potion and sneak into his room to find some kind of blackmail on him that you won't release if he destroys your contract. Things don't exactly go as planned...

Includes: soft/safe vore, unaware scenario, my weird merfolk biology headcanons

★✦What A Wonderful Idea!✦★

☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ

"Alright, time to force him to destroy that contract...!" You nervously said to yourself.

You quietly explored Azul's bedroom, trying to find anything you could use as blackmail or something similar.

You climbed up to his side table, and onto his bed... it's so strange to you, how he can sleep so peacefully knowing how many people he's screwed over.

His mouth... it's slightly open.

"Is... is his mouth blue?" You asked yourself. You knew that he was allegedly an octopus merman, but... you just didn't expect him to have a blue mouth.

Cautiously, you got a bit closer, just to make sure you were seeing things right.

Now that you're this close to his mouth, you realize that his teeth... are absolutely not teeth. They're definitely not made of bone.

You ended up getting closer.

Yeah, his teeth feel more like what crab shells are made of. How strange...

Azul's lips closed around you.

Uh oh.

His tongue curled around your torso, and pulled the rest of your body into his mouth.

Well, this isn't the greatest thing that could've happened...

Ok. So your options are either 1) stay in his mouth and probably end up being swallowed, or 2) try to wake him up...

Both of those will not end well for you.

Also, regardless of which choice you wanted to make, it was too late. You were very quickly swallowed down, so... yeah, there's not really anything you can do about it now...

Azul woke up feeling strange.

He couldn't exactly put his finger on what it was, but something just felt... off.

Oh well, time to go to school, he'll worry about the issue later if something is wrong.

As the day went on, Azul continued feeling like something wasn't right. It was like something was inside of him... did he eat something in his sleep last night? He must have...

When managing the Lounge later, he noticed that one of his anemones (you) hadn't shown up to work. Even when he used magic that would force you to, you didn't show up.

"Where could they be?" Azul asked himself, pulling out his phone. "Jade, Floyd, I need to make a private phone call. Make sure everyone stays in line."

Azul stepped into his office as he dialed your number.

"Hm? Oh. Hey there, Azul...!"

"(Y/N), where are you? We need you at the Lounge." Azul demanded.

"Well, uh, the thing is... I'm, uh... I-I'm already at the Lounge."

"...is that the best lie you could come up with?" He asked, confused on what you could possibly mean.

"I don't know how well you're going to take this, but, uh... I'm kinda in your stomach right now."

"...you're what."

"Haha! Yeah! Weird, right?!"

"No, tell me why you're in my stomach, (Y/N)!" Azul yelled, bewildered.

"Funny story actually!" You nervously said. "I... shrunk myself to sneak into your room while you slept so I could find some kind of blackmail on you and force you to rip up my contract but I got too close to your mouth and you ate me."

Azul couldn't believe what he just heard.

"You were trying to find blackmail on me?!" He yelled. "Well, you got what you deserved. I'll keep you in there for a while to teach you a lesson."

"To be honest, I'm kinda surprised that I'm safe in here." You said. "I really thought I would've been in a lot of pain right now..."

"Well, yes, I'm a merman, I can control my digestion." Azul explained. "Why would I waste energy digesting if I didn't think anything was in my stomach?"

"Huh. Strange."

"Although... I think you've given me a wonderful idea on how to punish anemones who continue to defy me! I'm sure time spent inside of me knowing I could choose to kill them whenever I want would surely put them in their place!" Azul happily said. "Thank you for the wonderful idea, (Y/N)!"

"Oh... yeah. No, uh, no problem..." You sighed, knowing this will only give Azul even more of a power trip.

Great job, genius...

#i do feel that if given the option azul would eat someone as punishment #tho he'd probably get the tweels to do it for him #i feel like every now and again he'd do it himself #safe vore #soft vore #unaware vore #twst vore #twisted wonderland vore #gt vore #azul ashengrotto #twisted wonderland x reader #v.ore #v/ore #azul ashengrotto x reader

106 notes · View notes

rowarn · 9 months

Text

everyone stop what you're doing i just had an idea of simon who likes to edge himself.....omg....

afab!reader, no prns, edging obvi, ruined orgasm, simon being selfish <3 not edited oof

when he's fucking you, hips pumping in a rhythm that basically melts your brain. he's got you pinned beneath him in a press, legs spread obscenely wide so your knees are against the bed. he's got you stuck there under his massive weight. you can't do anything but stare up at him with wide eyes as he fucks you.

he looks so good above you, muscles flexing with every movement and his dark eyes lidded with pleasure that he's getting from working his fat cock into your dripping little cunt.

"fuck, that's good," he groans, blunt nails biting into the tender skin under your thighs, "feels so fuckin' good 'round me, love."

you clench around him at the sound of his voice and the corner of his lips twitches up at the blatant, shameless reaction you have to him. he brings one hand up to his mouth, meeting your eyes in a heated stare as he licks the pad of his thumb, quickly bringing it down to press against your swollen clit -- twitchy and sensitive from neglect since he'd just settled for fucking you so far.

"you gettin' close?" he practically coos, making you whimper. the sound goes straight to his cock and god, he loves the sounds you make, "yeah, i know, pretty thing...i treat you real good, don't i?"

you're tightening up around him and he practically feels the breath punch out of his lungs. you're getting close; he's learned all your tells by now. the way your back arches and your mouth open as you whimper his name. you get wetter and wetter, gooey cunt making a nice little mess for him to fuck into. it makes lewd, squelching noises as he sinks balls deep with a slow roll of his hips.

"s-so close, simon!" you cry out, blindly reaching your hands down to press against his hips.

you always do that -- it's adorable. you actually think that'll stop him from sinking deep, deep inside. his cock knocks against your back well, the little pang of pain making your body twitch. usually, he bats your hands away just to be mean and watch you whine. you really think your trembling hands would be enough to stop the powerful movements of his hips.

he's close to his own end. his cock throbs the closer he gets with every deep thrust he gives you. both of you racing to your ends -- it would be so sweet to cum together, he thinks.

but he knows that's not going to happen.

it's his favorite thing to do. he just can't explain what it is he loves about it.

just when his orgasm starts to crest he pulls his cock free from the hot clutch of your cunt. he feels a little bad, he knows you had just fallen over the edge as he did -- leaving you nothing to cum around, little pussy clenching and cumming all empty and no pleasure from it. a sob tears free from your chest and the sound goes straight to his cock. you squirm under his weight as he watches his own cock twitch against your drooling cunt from his own denial, willing himself not to cum untouched at the sight of you cryin' for him. he closes his eyes and waits for his orgasm to wane before he looks at you again.

"simon..." you practically wail in despair, drawing his gaze up to your face. and fuck, you're so sweet for him.

your eyes are teary and he clicks his tongue, "sorry, love...that was mean of me, huh?"

you nod your head, pouting up at him. despite the ruined orgasm, you're still sensitive enough to twitch beneath him when he sinks his cock back into you with a swift grind of his hips.

"let me make it up to you, yeah?"

your sweet, trusting eyes makes his heart melt and he almost feels bad. almost.

because he knows for the rest of the night, he's going to be edging himself using your pretty little pussy until he finally decides he's ready to cum. and he's not going to care if you actually properly cum or not, because this is gonna be about him using you.

by the end of the night, his cocks so hard that it fucking hurts. he'd edged himself more times than he could count, the more he did the less time he got in between. he started simply dipping his length into you and pulling it right back out, eyes rolling at the sticky strings that connected the head to your clenching hole.

"please, simon...please, please, please..." you're breathlessly begging. he has no clue if you'd even properly cum the entire night, he had practically entered a trance and become a mindless beast thinking only with his cock. theres tears on your cheeks, dried and new and the sight is so lovely that he wants to take a picture and keep it on him at all times.

he finally takes mercy, however. your pretty little clit is so swollen and he just has to press his fingers against it. it's so sensitive that you almost immediately start cumming -- this time around his cock, he makes sure of it.

you pull him over the edge with you, letting him dump a nice, hot load into your pussy while you cum nice and hard around him.

when you sag into the bed and sniffle, cutely reaching out for a hug, he can't help but press a kiss against your forehead <3

#i would like to issue a formal apology #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley smut #ghost smut #ghost x reader #cod smut #cod x reader

9K notes · View notes

ode2rin · 1 month

Text

new boyfriend rin would never ever, under any circumstance, admit that he likes the pet names you call him. well… unless you would stop doing it. (also me pushing the bffs to lovers pipeline)

You must be upset with him, Rin is convinced so. It’s the only logical and sensible explanation behind this unusual behavior.

And he's going mad about it. Itoshi Rin is going mad any second now if he can't get to the bottom of this, he’s certainly convinced.

Every instinct screamed that your recent behavior was a reaction to something he'd done, but what? Was it the late replies to your text messages? No, you knew he was at practice and you told him you didn’t mind. Was it about the souvenir he brought back home to you from Paris? Sure, you teased him about its impracticality, but nothing that warranted this icy distance.

Or maybe it was something he said now? It must be, right? Everything boils down to his reckless poor choice of words, he supposes.

Slowly, Rin approached you by the couch you’re seated in. With your attention preoccupied by the selection of shows you’re browsing, you settled on looking at him briefly through your peripheral vision. Amused by how he’s slightly tiptoeing around, you let out a half-suppressed laugh to yourself.

He looks like a cat sometimes, you thought from the sight. And acts like one too. Like a big black cat who would hiss at you if you looked at him funny, or one that would bite your hand if you stopped petting him to sleep. Funny how Rin could be like that too.

The moment Rin settles into the plush comfort of the couch, he gazes at you through lowered lashes, trying to read the play of emotions on your face, if there’s any.

There’s nothing worth noting, and he doesn’t know if that should assure or bother him.

“Are we… alright?” he drawled.

What the fuck. He did not just sound like that.

He did not just ask that and sounded like an anxious pathetic wet cat who just had a new home waiting for its owner’s permission over anything (highly specific because he’s a bit dramatic). Just what kind of loser have you reduced him into, really.

Oblivious of the internal turmoil in Rin’s mind, you turn to him, “Hmm? Yeah? Why’d you ask?”

“Nothing,” he grumbled. It’s enough that he already humiliated himself for the way he asked if the two of you were cool— doing it again by exposing himself that he thinks you’re mad plainly because he hadn’t heard you call him a pet name (like you always do) would be mortification in its final form.

“Okay, Rin.”

That’s it. This needs to end. Forget humiliation. He would rather choose to feel pathetic over any day than continue with this charade.

“Are you mad at me?”

“Why would you think that?” you asked back instantly, shocked and extremely confused because of your boyfriend’s question. You’re literally just looking for a movie the two of you can watch— how is that any indication of being mad at him?

“Just answer the question,” he fumed, impatience settling on the furrow of his brows.

You said in the beginning of your relationship that you didn’t appreciate the silent treatment and guessing games, so don’t you think it’s hypocritical of you to do the same to him? (You’re not, but he just doesn’t know that.)

“I’m not mad at you, Rin.”

“You so are!”

“I am not! But you, yelling and instigating it are making me right now!” you countered, voice hinted with irritation, “What is your problem, Rin?”

There it is again. Rin rose from the couch to face your sitting form, as if standing would better prove his point. “See? You’re calling me Rin!” he blurted.

“Well, maybe because it’s your name?!”

“Not to you, it’s not!”

A beat of surprised silence. Until your lips grew to such a wide smile that made Rin physically feel his heart melting.

Yet, in Rin’s true fashion, he’ll never let you know how much air you knock out of him because of your beaming smile. Instead, he’ll say something along the snarky lines of, “Stop smiling like that.”

“Did my big bad grumpy Rinnie here thought we’re on a fight because I hadn’t call him baby?” you ask, purposely stressing out the words to disarm him more.

With a feigned exasperation, he comments, “I forgot how annoying you are.”

“And I forgot how childish you can get sometimes,” you countered.

“I’m not childish.”

“You don’t mind me calling you Rin then?”

Rin rolled his eyes at you, but you know better than to put meaning to it. He lowered himself onto the couch beside you. With a swift tug, Rin pulled you closer, closing the distance between you effortlessly. His arm found its way around your waist, drawing you snugly against his chest.

“But I don’t see why you need to…” Maybe he could be a bit childish.

“I thought you didn’t like it,” you shyly muttered, drawing shapes in his arm. “The pet names, I mean,” you clarified, sensing the confused look he’s probably giving you behind.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He is baby. He is Rinnie. Fucking hell, that’s so loser of him to even voice it out in his own mind.

“What? You call me by my name!” you defensively pointed out.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t like your nicknames of me,” he mumbled, the words barely audible.

The pet names— they were more than what they served. It was important to him more than what he would admit.

They were a secret language, a way you marked him as yours. A reminder that he wasn't just Rin anymore— just your friend.

He was now something more, something special.

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Besides… I love your name,” he whispered, his voice velvet against your hair.

It’s tender— no, it makes him tender. Saying your name has been the softest, kindest, and most tender way he’s used his words for.

Maybe it’s a little pathetic, feeling this undone by a name. But then it’s you.

It was your name— a name he could whisper with adoration, a name that belonged only to him to claim.

You melt to his words, leaning deeper into his chest. A contented sigh escaped your lips, the sound swallowed by the warmth of his embrace.

Looking up at him, your eyes held a softness he often found himself getting lost in, “I love your name too, but I also like calling you pet names. Is it okay?”

“Whatever you decide.” He’s yours, either way.

note. this is basically rin being "my nameeee is whatever you decideeeee and i'm just gonna call you mineeee i'm insane but i'm your baby!!!!" yeah that song basically.

#☁️ my ode to you #i have more drabbles like this i am fucking insane about him #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi rin x y/n #blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock fluff #bllk x reader #bllk imagines #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi

2K notes · View notes

baldursgate3tempobsessed · 8 months

Text

Soft Astarion Jealousy

Now with part 2!

I love Ascended Astarion because he's horrible but the sweetness of the other end of the spectrum is impossible to deny. He's just so in love and grateful I can't 🥺🥺

So here's some jealousy that isn't psychotic. Well it is but not as bad:

Astarion never expected to be the jealous type. He always thought...well. In all honesty he never thought about the reality of having a relationship. He didn't even think it was possible for him, let alone the idea that he would actually want it. Even with you, even after he admitted a fraction of his own feelings to himself, he never thought that he would be so... possessive. Though admittedly, he had very good cause for it.

Because you were frustrating. So, so frustrating. For some idiotic reason, you simply didn't understand how alluring to others you really were. You were a pretty little thing, yes but that wasn't the problem. It was so much more than that. And he knew that the others wanted you. Every last one of them. Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Wyll, Karlach, Gale, Halsin. All of them like moths to a flame. And that wasn't even counting all of the strangers you had met on your journey, the extras that thought they had a shot with your greatness. They all wanted you in ways that made Astarion seethe. And the desire from others wasn't even the kind that he was used to, the kind he understood like the back of his hand. Because you didn't need to seduce to cultivate desire. All you needed to stoke the flames was merely your presence. Experiencing you was all that was required for people to know they wanted more.

Astarion knew that the others weren't just looking for a bedmate, they wanted you for the same reasons he had grown to. Your empathy, your desire to understand those around you. Your fearlessness, your infuriating habit of always trying to do the right thing. They wanted you for your laugh, the way your eyes would crinkle in the corners when your smile was too wide. Your silly jokes, your endless hopefulness for a future. It felt as though everyone around saw you for the gem that you were and it was... concerning. Extremely concerning.

Astarion hated thinking about things like this. He loathed admitting the truth to himself even more. But he was...terrified of losing you to someone else. Especially since it could so easily be done. He was so very lucky that you weren't the brightest, or at least not when it came to matters of the heart. You could do so much better than him, a fact that was incredibly obvious to everyone around you. Everyone but you, a luck that Astarion did not take lightly. But how much time did he have before it ran out? Would it ever?

Perhaps it was delusional, but he was starting to think when all of this was over, assuming neither of you perished anyway, that...it could just be the two of you. Living together, exploring the world, even if it had to be under the cloak of night. Maybe... maybe the two of you could even find a cure for his unsavory condition. The thought itself was incredibly stupid, but then again, it was just as idiotic to believe that there was a cure to the Mind Flayer parasite. But here they were, closer then ever. And if that was such an impossibility turned into reality, perhaps a vampiric cure wasn't so impossible. Or maybe even finding an alternative method for immortality for you, without the downsides of his own. Anything that could just keep you both together, for as long as possible. It was an unrealistic dream, that would never come into fruition. If anything it was dangerous, so very dangerous to even entertain the thought of forever. Especially when your connection was so tenuous.

Astarion would never be stupid enough to thank Cazador for anything but...he'd be lying if he said he wasn't appreciative for his own lack of subtly when it came to seducing you. Even if it originally was for distasteful reasons, it still got him ahead of the pack. If he had been less calculating, less astute, there was a sincere chance that you would be warming someone else's bed at night. Callousness would never be without it's uses, even if it led to uncomfortable situations like his current infatuation.

What would he do when you inevitably wanted to leave? How could he survive after having something so...good. Someone so caring, someone who for some very horrifying reason liked being around him. And the sex... it was fabulous. He was a massive fan of your intimacy, when he was capable of participating in it. He adored it, he adored you, your beauty, the sweet noises he could coax from your mouth, the europhia of being inside of you. Then there was the fact that you could be intimate without any traces of it devolving into lovemaking. He had never been gifted with the ability to say no before, so often and so freely without a single fear of punishment. If anything, it felt like he was rewarded when he was honest with you, when he would share his sudden fits of discomfort in his own body, the memories that plagued him and doomed him to staying stubbornly soft. You would never get angry, never even disappointed. You would just listen and smile, always adorable when you would ask, "But I can stay for a cuddle, can't I?"

An extremely silly question, considering the two of you hadn't spent a night apart from each other since you'd made it to the Shadowlands. Yet it never failed to make him melt.

It was getting worse, these feelings. He just wanted you around, by his side, constantly. Constant enough for him to get the ridiculous urge to hiss at anyone else who dared to come near you. He felt an intense need to protect the closeness the both of you had cultivated, the kind that he had never been allowed before. He had no interest in sharing you with your own friends when it came down to it, let alone another lover.

Which is precisely why his original, mild distaste for Halsin turned into a full-blown hatred the night he had the gall to proposition you.

It had felt like a shard of ice going through his chest when you bounded over to him, laughing about one of his greatest fears coming much too close to reality, "You won't believe the conversation Halsin and I just had-"

"Ah, I was wondering when you were going to ask me about that," Astarion laughed, purposefully interrupting you. He had no desire to hear the specifics of that conversation. He didn't even want to be having this conversation, where you were inevitably going to ask if it was okay to explore someone else.

The answer was no. Never would he be okay with it, allowing someone else to be close to what should have been his. But he needed to think strategically here. To say no could be disasterous. If it became a game of choice between him and Halsin... he's almost certain he would lose. Halsin was everything he wasn't; caring, giving, sharing in your worldviews in a way that Astarion never could. He couldn't risk it, he wouldn't. Having you at all was better than nothing.

"But I'd never even consider something like that-"

"It's fine," Astarion interrupts again, the fakest smile he can muster plastered on his face. The pain was worth the risk mitigation, he was sure of that. But... he still had to ask, "But is this because we haven't...y'know, in awhile?"

A sick part of him prays that you'll say yes. Because if that's the reason, he could do something about it. He could force himself if need be to always tend to your needs. Especially if it meant keeping you to himself. It was such a small sacrifice in comparison to the rest of his life. He would do it in a heartbeat if you demanded, anything to just make you stay.

But that was not the answer he received. Instead you frowned, looking him up and down, "What? No, I-Astarion no. Please don't think that. What we have together is so special to me. The physical part of it is lovely, perfect even. But...it's not what we are."

It's almost comforting to hear you say that. But then why did that make the situation feel so much worse? If it wasn't sex you were after then that certainly meant you wanted more with Halsin as well, did it not? But it was too late to rescind it now.

Astarion nodded, a confused mixture of hurt and gratefulness swirling through him, "I just needed to know. But if you're satisfied with me and just want to explore, go right ahead. I'll be here when you're done."

You nodded slowly, brow furrowed when you asked, "So...we aren't exclusive then?"

"No, of course not," Astarion confirmed, ignoring everything inside of him that was screaming for him to take it all back, "We can be as open as you'd like."

"I see..." You said, trailing off with a frown. You coughed into your hand, looking up at him sharply. Sharp enough for him to be sincerely confused, "Does this mean that you'll be speaking to me before you explore your other options?"

"I-yes? If you want?" Astarion answered, a new type of unease settling in his chest. You didn't seem very happy with this conversation, despite his best attempts to give you what you wanted. Where had he gone wrong? Was he already working to throw you into the arm's of another man, without even trying?

You were still frowning at him, your look cold in a way that made him feel particularly ill, "Please do. I'd like to know everything. I'm going to speak to Halsin, get this all sorted. We can talk later."

And then you were spinning on your heel and marching away, like Astarion was the offensive party here. It made no sense. He had done it all right, hadn't he? Agreed to it immediately, didn't make you feel guilty, had tried to be what you wanted. How had he failed?

He didn't wait around to see you go to Halsin. Instead he went straight back to his tent, closing the flap as he laid down. Great. Fantastic. Now he would have to be aware, perhaps even hear you being with another, while simultaneously reliving that horrid conversation in his head for the entire night. The hurt and worry was making his mind wander to uncomfortable places. Perhaps...Halsin could be dealt with in another way if things became too serious between the two of you.

Would poisoning the man be too extreme?

But before Astarion had the time to start thinking of a more detailed plan he was interrupted. Suddnely, moonlight was filling his tent, with your silleoute shining in the darkness.

He blinked up at you, confused, "What are you doing here?"

You frowned at him, looking hesitant in the entry way, "Should I not be? I thought-I can go if you'd like."

"No!" Astarion blurted out, loud and desperate enough to make him cringe. He cleared his throat, trying again, his voice still a touch too pitiful for his liking, "No, no, come here darling. Of course you're always welcome. I just assumed you would be busy."

To his relief you listened, crawling into the bedroll next to him. Astarion didn't waste any time in wrapping his arms around you, relieved to humiliating degrees that you had chosen to come back after the deed. Though...you didn't quite smell as he had thought you would. There were no traces of the floral, woodsy smell of the druid on your skin. Just the sweet, pleasant scent that he had grown so fond of.

You sighed as he tucked you against him, the warmth of you enough to make him relax for the first time that night. You laid together in a pleasant quiet, one that Astarion was actually scared to disturb. Despite the fact that he desperately wanted to know what happened between the two of you.

But you broke the silence for him, muttering into his chest after the two of you were settled, "I'm...sorry for being snappish earlier. I shouldn't have been. You didn't do anything wrong, and I know I don't own you. I shouldn't have assumed."

Astarion frowned, pulling back to get a proper look at your face. You looked hurt, sad even. Like you were the one who had gotten their heart broken. He could feel a curl of distaste settling in his stomach, annoyed that this felt as though the situation was being placed back to him. He had played his part, perfectly. What more could you ask for? What was there to assume?

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean," Astarion carefully said, his eyes fixed on every micro expression on your face, "What did I do that could have been construed as incorrect?"

"Nothing!" You rushed to say, shame coloring your cheeks, "I was being stupid. You never promised me anything. I just...assumed. Wrongly that we were something we aren't."

That didn't-he-what? Astarion frowned at her, his confusion evident on his face, "What did you think we were?"

You looked uncomfortable, avoiding his gaze when you answered, "I thought that we were...together. Alone. Just us. But if that's not what you want I understand. It's fine-"

"What in the hells are you talking about?" Astarion blurted out, his anger and pain bubbling to the surface, "I haven't done a thing. And we were just us before you decided to galivant off with a bear of a man!"

He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. So much for playing things safely. No, he couldn't even have the self-control to stay quiet. He always had to ruin everything.

But surprisingly, you didn't look angry. If anything you seemed just as confused as he felt, "What? I didn't-we didn't do anything! When did I say I wanted to do anything with Halsin? You were the one saying you didn't care!"

You weren't making any damn sense, "Well why else would you ask me about it?"

"I didn't!" You huffed, glaring at him, "All I was going to say was that he asked me. And I wanted your help on how to best turn him down! And then you jumped at the chance to push me onto someone else-"

"I did nothing of the sort!" Astarion seethed back, "If it was up to me you would never look at another man again! Or woman for that matter!"

It was an odd feeling, to be arguing while holding each other so closely. But Astarion had no intention of letting you go anytime soon, even if he could feel you squirming against his ironclad grip when you fumed at him, "Then why would you say it was okay?!"

"Because I don't want you to leave me!" He shouted back, loud enough to snap him out of his own anger. All of his fury was instantly replaced with fear. Gods, why had he felt the need to say that? To lay his biggest insecurity out on the line. Why not just hand you a stake while he was at it, since he was so eager to give you the tools to destroy him.

But you were still seething, hissing back at him, "Why praytell, would I leave the man I've been in love with for months? Hm? Please, explain it to me!"

Astarion couldn't. He was too busy being shell-shocked at the confession, feeling too many emotions at once. Joy, relief, somehow even more fear than before. You so freely said the words that he had done his damndest to bury, to ignore. But now they were out there, filling him with a horrifying joy.

He wanted to say it back. He did. But he couldn't get the wrecthed words out. Instead he was just staring at you like an imbeicle, his mouth hanging opening at the confession.

But his silence didn't make you falter. Instead you looked determined, near fierce as you grasped his face into your warm hands, "I love you Astarion. You don't have to say it back. That's not what this is about. But I want you. And only you. If you want the same of me then you must tell me. Now."

Astarion let his hands flutter over your wrists, humiliating tears prickling at his eyes. But at least his vocal chords allowed him to answer you this time, "I do. So much more than you know. I want us. Just us. No one else."

The words were flowing out of him, too fast and sincere for him to make the appropriate edits in his head. He was saying too much, feeling too much, giving too much. But the way your eyes brightened at his words, the way you grinned at him before pulling him in for a sweet kiss made it suddenly feel like he wasn't giving anything up at all.

As much as he loathed to admit it, Astarion was exceedingly grateful for Halsin's existence after that night. He would never have had the gall to demand you to himself without a trigger, without the anger you both shared at being misunderstood. Because now, you were his. His alone, the proclamation coming from your own lips. And he was free to stop hiding how much he had wanted it. How willing he was to do anything to keep it. He let himself off his own leash after that, leaning completely into the mutual ownership you had of each other. No more would he silently sit back and seethe as a stranger flirted with you. No, now he'd be upfront and center, with a possessive hand around your waist as he glared them down, more than prepared with a confidence-shattering quip on his tongue.

He started to let all of his urges seep through, taking full advantage of your willingness. If Wyll looked at you for too long at the fire, with a touch of something that Astarion didn't like in his eyes, he'd effortlessly pull you into his lap onlookers be damned as breathed you in. If Gale suddenly had a suspect offer to teach you some new magic in a secluded location, Astarion would invite himself, impervious to any glares sent his way. And when he felt as though all of them were being a bit too flirtaious, he was more than happy to put them in their places at night. Spending hours upon hours making you scream his name in bed from pleasure, loud enough for everyone to hear and know exactly who you belonged to.

He couldn't care less if it added to his own unpopularity amongst their merry-band of rejects. Their opinions didn't matter. Not when you were eating all of the sudden attention up.

You let him do it all because you understood him, in ways that no one else had bothered to before. You knew who he was, what he wanted, the extent to how much he craved your attention. And you let it all happened, reveled in it even. The intense shows of affection. Because you loved him. And he loved you. And one of these days he'd allow himself to admit the obvious.

But for now, he had what he wanted. What he needed. And in the first time in his life, even with disgusting tadpoles squirming his his brain, Astarion was actually...happy.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion fic #long fic #you'll pry my long posts out of my cold dead hands #may add a dirty part two here #dirty sweet

7K notes · View notes

saturnicos · 4 months

Text

Giving a bracelet to them

With: Adam, Alastor, Angel Dust, Charlie, Lucifer

ps:: reader's gender is not mentioned

. Charlie

She absolutely adores! Extra points if it have some decoration with rainbow.

She'll use all the time, only take off when goes to bed and when goes to take a bath — she is worried if she ends up breaking or losing the pieces, so try to be as careful as possible.

As she organizes and takes care of hotel paperwork she tends to feel stressed, and unconsciously looks at the bracelet, a smile forming and her spirits slightly picking up again. She's really happy with the gift.

"Wait, this's for me? Really? It's so pretty, thank you so very much!"

—

. Alastor

He... Definitely have it.

Like, don't get me wrong, he just not knows how really feel about it since he has never received a gift before from anyone, except from his mother.

Deep inside, he actually likes it! The color scheme matching with his clothes, and it isn't so much decorated and colorful; or how he would like to say, simple things are more pretty.

Alastor isn't using the bracelet frequently, most because he not like that type of accessories so much. He'll probably use when is far from you, like a way to remember of you and stuff (this man don't use phone not even if the world frozen), but in the most of the time the bracelet probably will be in the pocket of his coat.

"What do you have there, my dear? Oh, a bracelet, that's very interesting."

—

. Adam

He... Definitely have it/2.

But it's the opposite.

He's a bitch that will probably mock about it, but will quickly change when you feel upset and try to leave him alone, saying something like "Just joking, Sugartits/Hunk, I actually liked that, give me".

He'll use ALL the time, except when he's going to the extermination.

He will 100% brag about the bracelet to anyone when he gets the chance, saying how you spent your time making gifts for him (he's a complete idiot that loved this thing, but will never admit bc high ego lol).

Lute can't stand him talking about this damn accessory anymore, please, she begs you not to give him anything else.

TOTALLY extra points if it has a guitar pendant.

"Of course you make it for me, after all, you are madly in love with me"

—

. Angel Dust

Now, I think it's important to point out that Angel would act a lot more like Anthony with his S/O.

Using this as a base, he'll be SO happy receiving a gift from you. Obviously, he'll make some dirty joke about it, but deep down he wonders why he received it if it's not a specific date.

This poor boy is emotionally broken, little acts like this make him feel so moved and loved ☹️

Every time that him have a breakdown and isolates himself, Fat Nuggets comfort him, laying next to him and gently plays with the bracelet (or if he isn't using, Fat Nuggets will pick it up and take it to him, as if knowing it is an object of comfort).

"A gift? For me? You're so kind, baby~."

—

. Lucifer

Listen to me: this man would probably feel so much like crying — with joy — and nothing convinces me otherwise.

He'd passed the lasts seven years alone, without any love or compassion, having you in his life it's a great gift for him. Now, receive a gift from someone that he considers his greatest gift? God-

He would also be one of the will use all the time. Seriously, this guy probably don't take it off in any occasion, it's a regular reminder that there is someone else besides Charlie who loves him.

He's so grateful to have you.

Later, he'll make matching necklaces with duck pendants for you, he thinks that's a lovely way to say thanks :)

"What is this, sweetie? Oh... I'll use, that's so beautiful, thank you a lot."

Thank you for read !! I'm so sorry if this is ooc, but I hope it was pleasant anyway :)

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #angel dust x reader #alastor x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer Morningstar x reader #charlie x reader #adam x reader

2K notes · View notes

shrenvents · 2 months

Text

Spellbound

Warnings: Minors dni, smut, oral, cunnilingus, unprotected, fluff, some violence, biting

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x Witch reader

Summary: You're a witch with a specific skill set, one that has intrigued a certain hybrid.

Word count: 2.7k

...

Voodoo. Magic. Impulse. Obsession.

She was his newest fascination.

He heard her laughter cracking through the walls of the barren bar before it cut short. Klaus observed how the sunlight blazed across her, poorly parked, car. His lips slanted in mild amusement. He told himself, that’s all it was, all she was. Mild amusement for an immortal. Though, something felt different.

He strutted into the place, head hung high as he scanned the bare vicinity. His eyes halted on a man behind the bar, rinsing glass cups. The bartender's eyes adverted from Klaus, the second he caught his stare. The man's nerves were duly noted as Klaus approached him.

“I’ll have a glass of your finest red,” Klaus spoke artfully, with a fake smile plastered on his face. The worker shuddered. “Ug- we’re not serving right now.”

“No worries mate,” his mellifluous voice paused. “The red I fancy isn’t something I’d find on your menu.” The man's gaze shot up to Klaus’s. His lips trembled as Klaus continued his jest. “Unless you intend to provide me with a bite, I suggest you tell me where she’s hidden.” Klaus’s threat echoed through the building, till silence took its place.

Suddenly, the sound of a back door, opening and slamming shut jolted Klaus away from the bartender. He instantly raced to the door, ripping it open. He watched as her frame scattered into her rusted car. He growled. There was no way he'd let her escape once again...

Your body was convulsing with anxiety. Who were you to know a little magic truce with the “other side,” would have a certain hybrid on your front doorstep. It didn’t help when you levitated everything in your apartment at him, including your freshly made spaghetti with bolognese. It was to be expected, that would piss him off...

Yanking the car door shut, you forced the key in and started the engine.

“Where are we headed this time darling?”

“Ahhh!” You screamed, snapping your head to the uninvited passenger. Klaus sat leisurely beside you, and you swear your life flashed before your eyes. “I must say, I enjoyed our time in Chicago. Perhaps San Fran may be the next best thing, love.” His smug face adorned your features, absorbing the way your face contorted in both fear and frustration.

“Jesus,” you huff, and Klaus’s smirk grows. “As much as I love the idea, somehow becoming your personal chauffeur isn’t that appealing.” Klaus chuckles lowly, leaning in, more and more.

“Well, if you hadn’t decided to run off, you crafty little thing," he drawls sweetly, "We wouldn’t have the pleasure.”

“If you weren’t trying to kill me, maybe I’d stick around.” Klaus’s brows twist like he's appalled by your words. “Who said I was interested in killing you?”

“You- I- then, what do you want?” You stammer. Klaus went quiet. You watched as his expression goes blank, before he acts as though he was in deep thought. Then, his mouth gaped in 'awe,' as if the answer suddenly came to him. “Your talents of course.”

“My talents.” You repeat, baffled.

“Yes, do keep up, my dear.”

“Why? You could have any witch at your disposal, at a moment's notice.”

The corner of his lips elevate once more. “I’m flattered.”

He’s become so close now, you feel his breath, and you try not to shiver as it grazes your neck. He, on the other hand, basks in your scent.

“But, unlike my other witches, you have a gift,” he muses. “Your connection with the dead is something to behold, and something I crave.”

After a prolonged silence, you speak. “If I help you with whatever," you move further into your seat, "When it comes to an end, you’ll let me walk away, unscathed?” Your brow quirks, and with every fibre of your being, you manage to maintain eye contact. “Yes, you have my word.” Klaus’s expression went stoic, holding an unflinching seriousness that made your heart rate stutter. And strangely, you knew you could trust him.

That's how you ended up as his lackey. For the past 5 weeks, you were at his beck and call as he tormented humans, werewolves, and vampires alike.

Like any other day, your conscious is eating away at you, as you call upon another ancestor of those he plagues. Today though, you finally broke. He had been cruelly punishing a guy for hours, as you questioned his late brother through the veil.

“That’s enough!” Klaus’s eyes dart to yours, and his angry appearance softens. Instinctively, he grips your forearm and drags you out of the motel room.

“Love, what’s wrong?”

“What's wrong is that I’m tired, and his brother is telling me jack shit about those ‘hunters.’” You huff, closing your eyes.

Klaus firmly presses himself stock-still, resisting every urge that wishes to devour you, as you naively allow him to hold you so close, let your guard down, and close your eyes. Such an urge that has only worsened, and become insatiable since you started your venture together…

“Love, why don’t you grab a bite from the cafe across the street, while I fill up the car's tank?” He says heartfeltly, "That way we both can have a break."

Your eyes flutter open, and you nearly tremble at the gentle look that flickers in his gaze. However, his body language, which clutches you tightly, suggests he is anything but. “Okay.”

After five minutes alone in a booth, you gather up the last of the courage you were trying to dispel. Now, heading back to the rented room, to release the hostage. Stupid, very stupid, you think. But you can’t help it.

When you enter the room, the door slowly creaks shut, and shadows engulf you. It’s too quiet, and you can’t see the hostage. Unease fills your system, and you begin to regret this decision. That impending regret soon became alarms going off, when the captive grabs your torso, roughly caging your arms. His grip is inescapable, and when you try to scream, his free hand covers your mouth.

“You fucking bitch,” he murmurs with disgust, and you wince. “How about I leave you bleeding out here, all laid out for you bloodthirsty master.” The man crackles with humourless laughter. “I’m sure he’d appreciate that.”

While his venomous words made you cower, you relentlessly struggle against him, fighting with all that you could muster. Unfortunately, your captor was a werewolf, and far too strong for you to at least break free, to cast a spell.

He muffles Klaus’s name with his palm, and tears prick your eyes. Even after the numerous times you’d bicker and argue, he was still the first person who came to mind, who you hopelessly called out to.

The man began lifting your body towards the door, urgently turning the knob. Just as the outside light cuts into your vision, you're wrenched from him, pulled into a powerful embrace. With ease, Klaus’s arms carry you away, swiftly placing you in the backseat of your car, locked safely inside.

His figure then disappears just as quickly, and you hear your aggressor's voice wail in pain. Shaking, you curl over yourself, covering both ears pathetically.

After what feels like an eternity, two large hands cup your tear-stained cheeks, bringing you out of your shell. He quiets you, as he slides inside the vehicle, smoothly pulling you onto his lap. One of his arms supports your back, while the other strokes your hair. Calming you down, he mutters things like: 'Everything’s fine now love,' 'I’m here,' 'I’ll take care of you...'

“I’ve never felt so helpless,” you mumble.

He shakes his head. “There’s nothing you could've done to stop a werewolf, especially when a full moon draws near,” he soothes. You press your cheek further into his broad chest. “Though, I wish you would’ve just listened to me for once, and stayed put.”

You shoot your head up, adjusting to face him, close enough that your noses nearly meet. “If I listened to you, I’d probably be dead by now.”

“Oh really?” He grins, eyes creasing, “How so?”

“Well, for one, that time you ordered me to question that vampire chick's dead boyfriend about his affair, right in front of her.” Klaus guffaws. “You're laughing, but she would've bit my head off.”

“She wouldn’t have,” he denies, still chuckling.

“Yes, she would have Klaus.” You start to laugh too.

“You know, I wouldn’t have let her.” His face deadpans, “Like I didn’t let our were-friend hurt you," he voices, airily. "I gave you my word.”

“Yes, of course, your word.” You giggle nervously, glancing at the hand currently bracing your thigh, gliding its thumb back and forth. “It’s not all that I’ve given you.”

You look up and are met with a mysterious look this time. Your brows furrow in confusion. He smiles dreamily, “Your skills as a witch truly know no bounds.”

“The hell are you talking about now?” You retort, making Klaus laugh loudly.

“I’m talking about your spell," he whispers. "The one that has bewitched me.”

You freeze, heart dropping.

“You don’t mean that...” Your sentence trails off as Klaus stares through you.

He’s so unpredictable, that a part of you believes he's most likely playing some sick game. But, there was also a possibility that he meant it, and all the hidden desires, for your unconventional boss, were about to bubble to the surface.

“I've meant every word, from the moment I met you, when you got the better of me.” He smirks, breath fanning your face. “Witchcraft.”

Then his lips take yours, slow at first, but the entanglement shortly turns desperate. Slightly hesitant, you grind on him, eager to pull him closer. He groans, and his hands enthusiastically roam your waist and back, beckoning you nearer.

Moving in a frenzy, as your fingers tangle in his locks, you swing your leg to straddle him. He moans your name in between kisses, and palms your ass.

Continuously rolling your body into him, makes you feel his arousal, causing a whine to escape. When your lips break apart, his mouth runs down your jaw, to your neck. You gasp, but you don’t stop him. He audibly tells you how much he’s enjoying himself, and you squeeze your thighs over his.

“I can only imagine how sinful you taste here darling.” He remarks as his hand slides over your core, and you whimper. “How about you let me try?” He hums politely. “You know you want me to.”

“No,” you huff.

“No?” His voice rises questioningly, and a hand gropes your chest, while the other grips your chin, tilting your head down to peer into his eyes. “Not here,” you finish, and he smirks wildly.

“Then, I’ll just have to get us a private room?” He purrs seductively into you ear, making you shiver. “One that is, unoccupied,” he rolls his tongue, and you shiver again at the double meaning behind his words. You don’t even want to think about what he did to your assailant…

“Please,” you sigh into a kiss, pecking his lips, which seems to surprise Klaus momentarily. His surprise briskly turns into a beaming smile. “To be continued,” he utters before shifting you off him, and rushing out the car.

Not long after, Klaus reappears with that same childlike cheer gracing his features. Jerking the door open, he outstretches his hand like a gentleman. You accept it, and his palm completely envelops yours. He tugs you to his hip, and nibbles on your earlobe while you walk to a random room.

As soon as the door locks behind you, he presses himself against your backside. “Now, how about that taste?” He mutters while lifting your hair to kiss your nape, and rubbing himself against you. You press closer, before spinning around to enclose your mouth on his again. He groans into your mouth approvingly, backing your body toward the queen-size bed.

His lips free yours when your back legs hit the edge, and you fall backwards with a yelp. His hands soon make work of your lower half, removing your clothes as he kneels infront of your cunt. You inhale deeply, as cool air hits your bare body.

He goes silent, so you raise your head to peek at him. Klaus ogles you heatedly, like the predator he is. “Lovely,” he sing-songs.

He abruptly grips your thighs and heaves your core to his mouth, so close, his breath warms your skin. “K-Klaus.”

“Hmmm,” he hums shortly, before delving into you. You sob a cry of shock. His tongue expertly runs over your folds, sucking the nub with such a slow deliberation, like he can’t decide how he wishes to take you at first, as if he’s imagined every which way he could.

You whine, motioning him to make his choice, bucking up, feeling his stubble scratch you. Then he grows aggressive, hungrily lapping your clit, over and over, until he ushers out your orgasm.

When your lengthy climax finishes, he moves to sigh pleasantly into the crook of your neck. “You’re incredible,” he emits with a chant of your name, thoroughly relaxing your shaking form.

“Fuck, take off your clothes,” you beg. He immediately abides by your command, tearing off his shirt and pants. You grab his necklaces to haul his lips to yours. You savour every inch of yourself on his tongue, and he relishes in how dirty the act is.

“There’s only so much I can do to you before dawn, and it won't nearly be enough to satisfy my hunger for you.” His poetic words erupt something within. You exhale, “It seems you’re going to break your promise then.”

He stills at your words, befuddled. You elaborate, “There’s no way I’m coming out of this unscathed.” A timid smile spreads across your face, and he almost nods in understanding, feeling a strange quiver in his chest.

Wordlessly, he pulls himself from his slacks, and you take off the last of your clothes. Suddenly feeling a little out of body, you decide to take back some control of the situation. So, you flip your positions, once again, surprising Klaus, though he allows it.

You straddle him, and lower yourself onto his thick cock. You whimper the second the tip enters, and he growls, pressing his fingertips into your hips, definitely leaving bruises.

“You’re too big,” you gasp.

“You can handle it, sweetheart,” he states mindlessly. He wraps his arms around your waist and arms, pulling you down onto him. His hips press completely into you, pushing himself inside to the hilt. A wheeze leaves your lungs as he grounds into you. “Klaus, it’s too-“

“It’s perfect,” he finishes for you. You barely have any time to adapt to his size before he begins pounding. Pleasure wracks through you, and he takes whatever control you had away. His pace is unnerving, and you utter incoherent words, while his fangs graze your neck.

“Tell me,” he groans through his panting. “Tell me you want me.” He demands, though it almost sounds like he’s begging for it. “I-I want you.” The words stumble out as his thrusts reach your center.

“More,” he just about whines.

“I want you Klaus,” you shout. “You feel so good- fuck I’ve always wanted this, you.” You ramble, egged on by him. He loves it, and you feel it in his strength. He holds you tighter, and the air leaves your body.

Feeling his leg tremble, you know he’s close. “Bite me.” His clamped-shut eyelids pop open, and his dark pupils bore into yours. You kiss him, and take his bottom lip between your teeth. “Bite me while you cum,” you command.

He gulps before taking his last few pumps into you. He moans into your neck as his teeth puncture your flesh. You cry out at the mixture of pain and pleasure that shatters you both.

After almost 10 minutes, he releases you from his firm caress and kisses the holes in your neck.

Still inside, he turns you both on your sides. You catch your breath. “How are you still hard?” You sigh in exasperation, and he chuckles breezily. “I told you, you’ve bewitched my very soul darling.” He smirks.

“This is only the beginning.”

2K notes · View notes