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#at first I was relieved to have what answers I did get
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“flu season” - hotch stops by to check on you while you’re home sick (hotch x bau!gn!reader), 1.7k words
cw; mentions of canonical violence, icky sickies, and yearning teehee
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You have the flu. 
You have the flu, and it hits you like a bus. 
You have the flu, and it hits you like a bus, and you hate feeling helpless, but you can’t even walk to the bathroom and back without feeling dizzy. 
There’s a waste basket by the bed, lined with a plastic grocery bag. There are four glasses of water, varying in stages of fullness, littered on the nightstand. Your blinds are open because yesterday you wanted to see the sun, but you were too exhausted later in the day to close them. 
Your phone is ringing. You’re groggy, the whole world feeling hazy and heavy, as you lift it from the space in bed beside you and see a call from your boss. When you called Hotch two days ago and told him you were ill, he was incredibly patient with you. Don’t worry about work. Get some rest, he said. Check in so we know you’re okay. Let us know if you need anything. 
You answer the phone on the last ring, and a hoarse, weak voice that is not yours exits your throat. “Hello?” 
“Y/N,” Hotch sounds relieved. Did he think you were dead or something? It’s only the stomach flu. He also never calls you by your first name, which only makes you concerned that something else is gruesomely wrong. “Did you see my calls?” 
You put him on speaker and check your call history. Aaron Hotchner has called you four times in the past six hours. You missed every single one, having drifted in and out of consciousness all day long. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t. Is everything okay?” You ask, thinking something must have happened to him or to one of your teammates. Why else would he be desperate to reach you when you’re home sick? 
“Well, you tell me,” Hotch exhales, an incredulous chuckle lining his voice. The phone muffles the sound, but you know that if you heard it in person, it would sound symphonic. “I was just checking on you, Y/N. I know you’re new to the city.” You sit up a little in bed, as if he were in front of you. “How are you feeling?” 
You run a clammy hand over your sweaty forehead. “Hot,” you blurt out. 
“Excuse me?” Hotch laughs. 
“Hot, like… like a fever. Like I’m running a…” you shake your head at yourself, resisting the urge to scream into your pillow. “Sick. I feel sick, very sick.” 
“What kind of sick?”
What kind of sick? Why would he ask you that? You lean back against the headboard and wonder if he’s trying to determine if you’re faking to get out of work, or if he’s genuinely concerned. You’ve only been with the BAU for a few months, but you feel like you’ve gotten to know everyone fairly well so far. You decide Hotch must just be genuinely concerned. You roll through your symptoms, and Hotchner clears his throat when you’re done speaking. 
“Do you feel strong enough to get to your door?” He asks.
“Huh?”
“Because I’m here. Outside your door.” 
“What?” 
Hotch lets out a breathy laugh, one that seems almost in disbelief of his own actions. “If you don’t want company, I’ll leave, but I thought you might need a hand. I’ve been sick and alone before. It’s not fun.” 
You feel your heart swell a little as you recall what Emily has told you about Hotch. You get little snippets about him from Emily, and from what you understand, he and his ex-wife were painfully separated for a while before she was murdered. You wonder if he was ever stuck at home, ill, during that period of time. 
Hotch says your surname. “Are you still there?” 
“What? Yes. Yes! I’m sorry,” you huff, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. The thought of planting your feet on the ground, however, has you already feeling nauseous. “I don’t, uh… I don’t think I can make it to the door, though,” you squeak. “There’s a spare key under the doormat. But I really look gross, Hotch. And I might be contagious. So, enter at your own risk.”
“I don’t mind, L/N. You keep a key under the - oh, yes, there it is,” you hear Hotch fumble to juggle the key and his phone, and after a moment of static - his hand over the microphone - he hangs up, and you hear the front door of your apartment creak open. “Y/N?” He calls out. 
“In here,” you croak, scrambling under the covers and desperately brushing your sweaty hair out of your eyes. 
Hotch is standing in the doorway in an instant, still in his suit and tie. You glance at your phone and conclude he must have left work directly to come here. “How do you know where I live?” You mumble as he lifts a full grocery bag. 
“Personnel file,” he shrugs. “How’s your fever?” 
You notice he’s lingering in the doorway. He’s waiting to be invited in. “You don’t have to have a warrant,” you smile weakly and beckon him into your bedroom, a lame attempt at humor. 
He exhales in amusement, and you see the smile on his face - light and mild, and you wonder, if you weren’t sick, would it have been a grin? 
“You didn’t answer my question,” Hotch says as he steps slowly into the room, taking a cold bottle of Gatorade from the grocery bag and setting it on your nightstand. He starts gathering the cups of water into one arm. 
“You don’t have to do that,” you protest, feeling embarrassed of your mess. “Hotch-“
“It’s Aaron, outside of work,” he corrects you, and you see a flash of his teeth. “And you didn’t answer my question. How’s your fever?” 
You swallow. “High? I guess?” You say dumbly. 
A warm hand is pressed against your forehead and you are once again very aware of how clammy it is. “When was the last time you took something?” He asks. 
You check the time again, then do the math in your head. “Five hours ago.” 
“Where’s your medicine?” He asked. You shift in the bed, to stand up, and Hotch - Aaron’s - hand is on your shoulder. “Stay in bed. I’ll get it. Where is it?” 
“Bathroom cabinet,” you point to the bathroom. You want to protest further. You want to apologize for the mess, to ask him why he’s doing this, to ask him if he’d do this for anyone else. But you keep your mouth shut, instead rubbing the space between your brows as the inevitable headache kicks in. 
Aaron’s quickly out of your bedroom. You hear him walk into the kitchen, a few cabinets open and shut, and then he’s in your bathroom, same thing, opening and closing a cabinet. He comes back to you with a few crackers on a plate, a fresh glass of water, and your flu medicine. 
“So, let’s talk about why you think it’s a good idea to keep a spare key under the mat,” Aaron proposes as you take the medicine. You nearly choke on the water in your mouth, but manage to down it. His face gives him away - he’s not mad, not even disappointed, just smirky. Teasing and playful were not words you would use to describe Aaron Hotchner. 
Until right now. 
You open your mouth to speak, but Aaron cuts you off. “You spend your whole week working gory murders, kidnappings, terrorist threats. You know that the key under the mat is the oldest trick in the book. Why do you do it?” He asks, leaning against the wall beside your bed. 
“You can sit, if you want?” You offer, pointing to the desk chair in the corner. “Your legs must be tired from hanging out up there on that high horse.” 
Hotch just lets a low chuckle escape him as he rolls the desk chair over. He keeps a respectful distance from your bed, but still crosses his ankles and leans back, like he’s sat there a thousand times. Like he’s somehow comfortable. He looks at you expectantly, as if to say don’t make me ask again. 
“Well,” you feel a bit sheepish, because he is right. Keeping a key under your doormat is pretty dumb. “I guess I figure, most people are smart enough to not do it, so the kidnappers and rapists would assume I would be smart enough, too, so they wouldn’t even look under the mat.” 
Aaron’s expression is priceless, and he opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off. “I’ll just give a spare to someone I trust, how about that?” You suggest, knowing intuitively that the lecture was only going to continue. 
Aaron gives you a nod of approval, and you lean back against the headboard again, stifling a yawn. “I can go, if you want to rest some more?” he proffers, rising from his seat. 
“You don’t have to,” you say quickly, uncontrollably. The words were locked and loaded in your throat before you could think twice. “I mean, I’m probably going to fall asleep soon, but I wouldn’t mind the company. For a little while.” 
You wonder how visibly red your face is.
“I just wanted to make sure you were alive,” Aaron chuckles, his polite, subtle way of declining your invitation, of making sure boundaries are still intact. You know Hotchner is a rule-follower. You admire that about him. “I’ll let you get some rest,” his hand extends, as if to reach out to you. You wonder if he’s going to touch you. His hand retracts after a moment that seems to last for an eternity. 
As Aaron walks towards the bedroom door, he turns around and smiles at you. It’s a real smile. It’s soft. You want to press it like a flower petal, between two book pages, and keep it in a jar on your bookshelf. 
“I brought you some soup for when you feel up to eating. It’s in your refrigerator,” he says. He taps his hands against the door frame. “Feel better, okay? I’ll call you tomorrow to check on you.” 
Aaron Hotchner leaves your apartment a minute later, and you fall asleep shortly after that. Your head is still pounding, and your stomach is twisted in knots, but it’s not from the nausea. 
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When they were talking about Wesker, I can't help but when he said this to Jill (when she said it was like living in a nightmare being controlled), I think he was also talking about himself when he said this.
He had only just opened up to her about Piers (apparently the first time he's told her about him years after his death), and it almost felt as if he was confessing his guilt/loss and that he had planned on retiring, Piers being the one to take over from him. He looked vulnerable telling her, the way he held the water bottle with both hands as if he needed something to hold and ground him, like it took real effort to open up (he's still affected by Piers' death). When it came to Wesker, him 'opening up' carried over and he may have confessed how he felt about Wesker still being in his mind, memories and nightmares. It could have also been Piers he was having nightmares about and he struggled to come to terms with the loss. Not necessarily in a romantic sense but it's obvious losing Piers hit him hard. However his relationship/rivalry with Wesker was longer and more intense, it would make sense that he'd still feel that connection to him like an old scar that won't fade and gives him pain. He also uses replicas/weapons that were Wesker's, if he wanted to be done with Wesker, why use them at all? Would he have not had other alternative weapons to choose from? Wesker's dead (as far as he's concerned) yet he still has that connection to him. If he was the one who commissioned the series of weapons or was the one to name them after Wesker... Did he do it to honour his memory? Or that he wanted something of Wesker or that connection with him to stay? And what would Jill have thought of it? Chris using replica weapons of the man that controlled her and made her live a nightmare? "And if you're not careful, it'll swallow you up." Perhaps he said that because that's what has happened to him, that the nightmares of Wesker have consumed him or had at one point consumed him.
The why he looked and acted empty after killing Wesker, you'd think he'd be happy or relieved it was over like the others were. Maybe he was at first but after a while the emptiness began to settle; he trained for so long to fight Wesker, he had a purpose and a goal. When Wesker was gone it left a void that needed to be filled. But something that had such an impact and influence on his life would have left him feeling empty. In a way, he killed part of his identity that day.
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Then there's this scene in RE6
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WHY was Chris prepared to die because he killed Wesker? As if he felt guilty or regretted it? He didn't know Jake personally, he didn't try to defend his actions or explain that Wesker was trying to destroy the world. Yet he willingly confessed and felt he deserved to be shot for killing him.
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It took Chris a strangely long time to answer, why did he have to even think it over? He wanted to take Wesker down for personal reasons and because he was ordered to, it should have been a quick and obvious answer. My guess is that he was having flashbacks to Wesker, possibly his final moments. The way he sounded when he answered was as if he had no choice but to kill Wesker, that it wasn't for the same personal reasons he had before. He had to kill him in the same way of putting down a rabid dog, to protect people and to put it out of it's misery/pain. "I had to, he wouldn't stop. He was beyond saving."
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Whether he felt actual guilt/regret for killing Wesker or it was merely a very dangerous tactic to get through to Jake, it's hard to say.
Ironically, there have been many occasions Wesker has aimed a gun at Chris and never fired, not even to miss for plot or as a warning. Jake, his son, did what Wesker couldn't in his 10 years of rivalry with Chris.
And of course, this scene in the RE1 remaster.
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I've talked about this in another post but long story short, he still cared about Wesker despite being betrayed by him, that just moments ago shot Rebecca. Chris laughed and mocked him seconds before and was held at gun point, but the moment Wesker got attacked he immediately tried to help/save him. He cared.
And he still did, even after his death. Using Wesker weapon replicas, protecting and defending his son, possibly still having Wesker's STARS knife from the events of Code Veronica...he needs to have something of Wesker to be part of him. Whatever his reasons, despite all the pain, anger and hatred, he refuses to let him go and let the past be buried. He is both haunted and embracing the ghost of Wesker. The longer the absence of Wesker goes on, the more Chris is changing. Deep down he may have been hoping, wanting, Wesker to come back. 10 years pass and there's still no sign of him, the realisation turning into grief and regret. Wesker gave Chris purpose (just like how Chris gave Wesker purpose), now that purpose was gone, things just aren't the same anymore and there's nothing he can do to get him back. Wesker may have been right after all; their fates really are forever intertwined.
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bloodylullaby · 1 day
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Dont know if you take blurb requests but I wanted to ask for one (no pressure❤)
What about, something like the reader and Noah being together for a couple months and she thinks that he's gonna leave her for whatever reason but Noah 'reassures' her so she can keep calm.
Idk if you like this but do what you please with it❤
Okay, I got overly excited and a little nervous writing this, but I hope this is what you were semi-looking for. If not, I will do it again without hesitation! :) :)
I may or may not have read other blurbs to make sure I was doing this right.
Song
Masterlist
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Three glorious months—seemingly a blink in the vast of time, yet profoundly meaningful in the journey you and Noah have navigated. It marks the peak of three years of friendship, a journey paved with shared laughter, countless conversations, and moments of unspoken understanding. Finally reaching the finish line, you both have embarked on a new chapter, intertwining your lives in a bond strengthened by trust, mutual admiration, and a deep-rooted connection. Every day shows the lasting beauty of your relationship and the profound impact of love, which thrives and grows with each passing moment.
Things seemed like they couldn't get more perfect until your first big fight. You posted a picture of you and Noah cuddling up in his bed, and he freaked out a little. He was one for complete privacy regarding the internet, but you wanted to shout your relationship to the world. It was hard for you to understand why he didn’t want pictures of you two posted, and it was even more challenging for you not to take it as personally as you did. You have been holed up in your room blasting "Lover Dearest '' by Marianas Trench for an intense hour, screaming and crying the lyrics to yourself.
You felt like he was going to break up with you sometime in the near future, and it was getting harder and harder for you not to freak out about it. This caused you to slightly distance yourself from him, which wasn’t hard due to him working in the studio a lot lately. Everything seemed reduced to slower texts, fewer calls, and limited visits for several weeks. You knew it was because once Noah had a creative flow, he couldn’t be slowed down, but emotionally, it felt like he was avoiding you because he didn't want you around anymore.
There was a knock on your door, so you slowly got up to answer it. On the other side was Noah, who had a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a big smile on his face. His expression slightly faltered when he saw your tear-streaked face. Confusion crossed his features when he heard the song you were playing. 
“Why are you listening to your break-up song?” He asked. That just pushed you over the edge and made your tears fall again. He grabbed your face with his free hand, wiping away the tears. “Hey…shhhh, it’s okay, baby. What’s going on?” he asked, concern laced in his voice.
“Are you going to break up with me?” You asked through sniffles and hiccups. Avoiding eye contact, you couldn't bear to see his face, knowing it would only deepen your heartbreak.
Seeing the anguish in your eyes, Noah's expression softened with understanding. After setting down the flowers, he gently cupped your face with both hands, coaxing you to look at him. 
"Hey, no, no, baby, I'm not going to break up with you," he reassured you, his voice filled with sincerity. "I love you, okay? I'm here for you."
Feeling relieved, you finally meet his gaze, tears still glistening. With a shaky breath, you leaned into his embrace, comforting yourself with his reassuring presence. Noah held you close, his arms wrapping around you protectively as you let yourself release the pent-up emotions weighing on you. Looking up at him, you both get swept up in the feelings, and he kisses you. At first, it starts slow and gentle, a way for him to show you that he understands your feelings and will be there to take the pain away. Then it starts to turn hungry, showing you his passion for you and that he isn’t going anywhere.
Leading him to your room, you lay on your bed as he climbs over you. The air is thick with anticipation and desire as he leans in to kiss you, his lips tender and warm against yours. As the kiss deepens, you feel a surge of emotion wash over you, the intensity of your connection palpable in every touch.
For the next hour, Noah worships you and every inch of your body, his lips and hands moving with purpose and passion. Each caress declares his love and commitment, reassuring you that he isn't going anywhere. In his embrace, you feel safe and cherished, the worries and doubts of earlier fading into the background as you lose yourself in the moment. Time seems to stand still as you revel in the intimacy and closeness you share, knowing that together, you can weather any storm that comes your way.
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lilghostiequinni · 5 hours
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Before
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Main Masterlist Lando Masterlist
Pairing: Verstappen!female oc x Lando Norris
Warnings: None really, Fluffy(to me)
Part Summary: Before the people suspect anything, it was really what they wanted more than anything else. Wanted when life wasn't busy for either of them. Because when they first met their lives were hectic, but at least they had gotten each other out of it.
Prologue of the Wasn't Always series; prev. part & next part
A/N: This is essentially the prologue to the actual series and can be read as a stand-alone. There is no need to read this to understand the series.
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2019 Australian Grand Prix
"Oscar, I can't be here. I'm supposed to be getting ready to leave." Kaarina said to her best friend as he basically begged her to go with him to the 2019 Australian Grand Prix.
"Come on. Please, Mom says if you go, I can." Oscar tries to convince her.
"No, she didn't. Your mom wouldn't care 'cause she knows where you are if you did go and if anything, she would be worried about you getting in the suitcase of a driver." Kaarina says with a look of suspicion on her face as she analyzes the younger boy.
"Please, you don't have to leave until Monday; it's only Friday," Oscar begged even more, and for the first showing her the passes he had gotten.
Kaarina looked at the passes and then at the excited Aussie, "Max put you up to this, didn't he?"
Oscar froze and that was all the answer that Kaarina needed as she nodded.
"Of course, he gave you passes on the condition of getting me there." It wasn't a question, but Oscar nodded.
"Fine, which team are you supporting? I'll play fake girlfriend for your real girlfriend because Max definitely only gave you two passes." Kaarina told as Lily walked into the room.
Oscar's eyes got wide as he realized the truth of the matter: he only had two passes, and Max didn't give him a third.
Lily chuckled, just hearing the end of what Kaarina said and then the look in her boyfriend's eyes and the apologetic look he got when he saw her.
"It's okay; Kaarina will take care of you; she does it any other time. I don't want to go, but you do." Lily says as she kisses Oscar's cheek and lets out a relieved sigh.
Kaarina chuckles at the two; while she is a couple years older than both of them, she is still really good friends with the two as she and Oscar met when she lived in Australia because their parents knew each other.
"You know, sometimes, I feel that it's not my best friend and my girlfriend, but my girlfriend and my girlfriend's girlfriend," Oscar says as he looks at the two in front of him.
The two just chuckle at him, making Oscar roll his eyes.
"Which team are we supporting, you teit?" Kaarina asks between the chuckles and giggles.
"McLaren." Oscar dead-pans as he looks between the two, and Kaarina nods.
Kaarina went to change out of the comfy clothes she had on just as Lily started speaking, "You know that is basically your girlfriend when I'm not around, to make sure everyone knows you're taken and mine."
"I am, but there is no need for that." Oscar points out.
"Nope, you can't convince me otherwise. Rina is the stand-in girlfriend when I'm not around. Just know that it's the same when you aren't around when we go shopping." Lily tells him before following Kaarina, and Oscar just looks after his girlfriend in confusion.
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"So what was it my brother told you that you agreed to force me along to the race? Because I know it wasn't just the passes," Kaarina says as she walks next to Oscar in the paddock area, making their way around.
"He told me I could support any team; it didn't have to be Red Bull," Oscar said, then he looked over to his best friend, who had a very unimpressed look on her face, knowing that it was more than just that. "He also said he would get me to the next three races I was at, no matter how short the notice."
Kaarina just rolled her eyes.
"I still think you should have changed before we left," Oscar states.
"Why? What's wrong with my outfit? You said, McLaren," Kaarina says as she looks down at her outfit.
"Yes, but did you really have to put on the Max Verstappen Air Forces?" Oscar points out, looking at her shoes.
"Hey, I will support McLaren, but also my brother," Kaarina says as she pokes Oscar in the arm.
"Isn't Carlos McLaren?" Oscar asks her, even though he knows the answer.
"Yes, my cousin is in McLaren, and he understands; also, I am supporting him," Kaarina pulls up her sleeve and shows the beaded bracelets that she has either stolen or gotten from her brother and cousins to hold and just never given them back.
"Did you steal all of those?" Oscar accuses as they get nearer to the McLaren paddock which has the Red Bull paddock rather close.
"No, the three gave me a couple and just never asked for them back. Also, I bought like three," Kaarina answers a little defensively.
Oscar just shakes his head at her as he sees Max waiting rather close to McLaren for what is assumed as his sister.
"Wait here?" Kaarina asks as she sees her brother; Oscar nods and waits for Kaarina to get done talking to her brother.
"How come he can get you to come but not me?" Max questions as he catches his sister in a hug.
"Because he was bribed and really wanted to come, and no one else really did. Also, he can be very convincing when he wants to be," Kaarina says to her brother as she pulls away from him.
Max nods and then looks at his sister's outfit.
"You told him any team, and he chose McLaren. But I am supporting you," Kaarina said when she saw the expression that briefly crossed his face and then showed him her shoes.
Max chuckled at her again and just kissed her forehead as he saw his engineer wave him over, "See you later?"
"Yeah, I'll be here," Kaarina said, wishing he brother luck with a kiss on the cheek before returning to Oscar, who was joined by Carlos.
"Carlos," Kaarina acknowledges him and gives him a hug.
"Ah, McLaren today, yes?" He says, seeing the outfit she was wearing.
"Don't let the sweater fool you, Carlos; she has 33 Verstappen shoes on," Oscar points out to the Spaniard.
"That is okay, no one really looks at shoes," Carlos counters, making the blonde chuckle at her cousin.
Oscar rolls his eyes as he sees something making the Australian walk away from the two with a little pat on the shoulder to Kaarina as he walks that way.
"So, how's the new teammate?" Kaarina asks her cousin as she watches the Piastri boy walk off.
"So far, he has potential," Carlos says with a thoughtful expression.
Kaarina nods, she sees Carlos being waved to and points it out to him.
"Come," Carlos simply says as he makes his way over to the waving person.
"Lando, this is Kaarina Verstappen, Kaarina this is Lando Norris, the new driver," Carlos introduces the two.
"Like Max Verstappen?" Is all Lando can come up with and is cursing himself out in his head, 'That's it "like Max" really Norris.'
"Exactly, I'm his half-sister. We have different mothers," Kaarina tells him, as she holds her hand out to the newest driver.
Lando takes her hand and shakes it as Carlos starts talking again. After the two let go, Lando still doesn't let go of her hand.
"Don't you two share a birthday?" Carlos asked, but it was as though he just randomly, as the quiet settled in between the three, breaking the eye contract which was held by the younger two.
"We do?" Kaarina questioned, a puzzled look crossing her face as she looked away from Lando to her cousin.
Lando also looked away from the woman to Carlos, "What do you mean?"
"You were both born on November 13th, no?" Carlos asks, looking at the two, having no idea that they were not paying attention to what he was previously saying to them as they walked to and partially through the McLaren garage.
"Really? You were born on November 13th?" Kaarina asked with a smile spreading across her face as she watched Lando.
"Yeah, 1999," Lando says as Kaarina's smile gets bigger, making the British man smile, too, as he blushes at seeing the woman smile.
"Me too! Birthday buddies," Kaarina smiles even wider.
Lando smiles at her smiling face as Carlos closely watches to two who seem to have a staring problem.
"Oh, um... Carlos, Lando, I have to go. Time to see the other cousin, but I will be back," Kaarina kisses Carlos's cheek and gives Lando a side hug as she walks out of the McLaren paddock to the Ferrari one.
"You know she didn't have a boyfriend last I knew, but I would check with her friend, Oscar, or her brother, Max. But I guess you just have to ask," Carlos pats Lando on the back before going over to some fans he saw.
Leaving Lando alone to his thoughts.
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Kaarina sat with Oscar as she watched the race, as always rooting for her brother or cousins, but now also rooting for the newcomer Lando Norris.
Her mind was distracted by the color of his eyes and the beauty of his smile. He just wouldn't leave her brain or thoughts.
A classic, he fell first and she fell harder.
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Again, this, too, was mostly done before I accidentally posted it, twice. I'm just going to accept that I don't like how I end my posts because I'm not entirely happy with it, but I also think it makes sense for how I wanted it to go and how I want the series to go, but this doesn't need to be read to understand the full relationship in the series.
Tags: @samantha-chicago @hellothere9597
If you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know, so I don't keep tagging you.
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jacaerysgf · 5 hours
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Not a one time thing
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r.q: being friends with benefits, with jace where you both end up drunk at a party and end up having sx and the next day you guys laugh it off and forget abt it. but jace starts to crave you more and first you’re hesitant about it, but then you guys agree on friends with benefits. now you guys js randomly whenever you’re stressed or in the mood and calling eachother in the middle of the night. jace starts to catch feelings and like fights the urge to say ily while they’re doing it. and then they js like end up together idk. but you’re like my fav jace writer rn
w.c: 1k
c.w: slight nsfw, sweet jace, mutual pining, fwb to lovers, cute little drabble, not proofread, written with f!reader in mind but is basically gn!reader
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You thought your slip up with Jace would be a one time thing, that after the two of you walk out of the party laughing about it that that would be it. Yet not even two nights later you’re staring down at a “are you up?” text from him. You don’t answer him, texting him back in the morning and saying you had been asleep and asking him what he needed, he had said it was nothing and he ‘figured it out’ but that just left you way too curious.
Yet when he shows up at your house at two am with his puppy dog eyes and a rock between his legs you let him push you on the couch and let him have you once again. When you wake up and he’s making breakfast in your kitchen shirtless you decide to lay down some ground rules to quell the pounding of your heart.
Strictly friends with benefits. No feelings attached. exclusively one another, definitely a rule in place just to avoid stds, no other reason. Arrangement must be broken off is one of you begins to like someone else.
Sounds easy enough. Its a good stress reliever for you, whenever you have a test or your studying is not going as well as expected you give him a ring and he’s quick to show up to take your mind off of it and you do the same for him. It works well, at least for you, but Jace seems to be struggling a lot more then you are.
You can’t tell he is of course. He is good at hiding it, but it begins to grow more and more daunting as he’s thrusting into you, staring at your with heart eyes that you can’t see since your eyes are closed, his thumb rubs affectionally on your jaw as he watches you climax, it’s gotten to the point he has no care for his own pleasure, he gets his fill from watching your eyes rolls in the back of your head.
Four times. It was a new record for him. Four times he almost told you that he loved you. He watches you as you scroll through your phone, oblivious to the internal battle he’s having. You are so beautiful. You haven’t even bothered to put back on any of your clothes, he admires you fully, he had no clue how long he was until you look at him with a raised brow, “You like what you see big guy?”
He loves you.
He simply reaches over and places a kiss on your lips before he lays back down. “What’s that for?” Because i love you. “To shut you up.” You roll your eyes and smack him on the chest. “Says you while staring at my bare chest you perv.”
He thinks he can keep it in for awhile, let his feelings pass. Yet he ends up blowing up. You have been spending a lot more time with cregan. Cregan fucking stark his best friend yet he has never wanted to murder a man more. Why are you walking around and smiling with him? Why did you fucking bail on him one night to hang out with cregan?
“Is this over?”
You turn to him confused, setting down the pizza you had ordered for the two of you down on the table and shake your head, “What are you talking about?”
His posture is rigid, he’s fiddling around with his fingers, he would normally be shirtless but you take notice of the fact he’s wearing a plain white shirt. “Are we over?”
“No? Why would,” You attempt to put it in the words, we seems to intimate despite the fact that's how he worded it, “our arrangement,, end? You like someone?”
“What about cregan? You like him don’t you?” You tilt your head at him and let out a confused laugh. “You mean your best friend cregan? what the fuck are you on about?”
“You said our arrangement ends if one of us starts to like someone else.” “Yes i did, so what you think i like cregan?” “Yes.” This is what breaks you and you laugh, you cover your face in your hands as you turn away and you laugh. “what the are you talking about? No i don’t like cregan. Why would it matter if i did?”
“Because i love you.�� You freeze. You turn around quickly to stare at him with wide eyes. “What?”
“I love you. I don’t want to be some stupid arrangement. I want there to be us, we. Together.”
You gulp, you feel your feelings you’ve kept locked down bubbling up to the surface. You have to be rational, he is clearly not thinking straight you know him. “Jace. This is coming from you being jealous you shouldn’t say stuff like that. Hey ill stop hanging out with cregan without you-”
“No. I’m in love with you. This is not because I’m fucking jealous, sure maybe i am but i am so madly in love with you everyday i have to stop myself from professing my love to you from the highest mountain. If I'm saying this because I'm jealous then why do i feel the urge to tell you i love you while you’re withering underneath me. I love you.”
He had made his way over to you. He stands in front of you looking like a kicked puppy. “If you don’t feel the same we should end this. Never speak again, maybe that would kill me but i can’t just keep ignoring how i feel for you any longer.” He tenses in your silence, “Please answer me.”
“I never wanted to get into this arrangement with you because i knew one day i would crack. I ignored your calls and texts because i was so nervous to begin this dangerous game with you because i am so madly in love with you Jace.”
He rushes to cup your cheeks and he pulls you into a kiss. You can feel him grinning against your lips and he must feel the way you’re smiling back.
“Does boyfriend Jace fuck anything different than friend Jace?”
“You’re about to find out.”
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perm jacaerys taglist <3
@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @aegonswife
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faghubby · 19 hours
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Are you sure?
"Paul, do you have a fantasy? You know something you always wanted to try?" Janet asked as we laid in bed after making love.
"This is it babe" I responded trying not to fall into some kind of trap
"No seriously, what about two woman. Isn't that like all guys fantasy?" Janet asked.
"No, I got you that's all I want" I told her. She let it drop. I was relieved thinking I avoided so,e stupid thing she would hold over me. But in truth I had not lied. I was rather happy.
It was a few days later that Janet and I were watching a movie. When she suddenly started to unbutton my pants. It wasn't her type of movie and she had grown bored. As she kissed me and stroked my now hard cock.
"What's the kinkiest thing you ever done with someone?" She asked.
"I guess that night we went skinny dipping?" I told her. She seemed disappointed at my answer. "What about with someone else?" She asked.
"I don't know I guess one time I had sex in a car" I moaned. She seemed to lose her drive with my answer.
"Well what about you? What the kinkiest thing you ever done?" I asked. This peaked her interest
"My ex Brian shared me with his friend Jerome" she told me. Stroking me all that much faster. I was shocked by her answer. I had met Brian he was a bit of a jerk.
"Really?" I asked "I am so sorry" I told her.
"No babe it wasn't like that I loved it. And Jerome had such a big cock. I teased him I had never believed that black man had bigger cocks" Janet told me. She was obviously becoming more turned on as we talked. She slid onto my lap and rode me to an orgasm. After as we held each other.
"Would you do that?" Janet asked
"What?" I asked
"Share me?" She wiggled her ass against me.
"are you sure you want me too?" I asked.
"I would be a good slut for you" Janet said she flipped around and dove under the covers her mouth wrapped around my soft cock, causing it to stiffen immediately. I moaned as she sucked my dick. But for the first time wondering how many other guys she had done the same thing to.
I waited till the next day
"Janet did you really have sex with 2 guys?" I asked.
"Yes, why?" Janet asked looking at me with a crooked smile.
"It's just I had no idea" I continued.
"I did other things as well?" She hinted.
"Yeah, and um well we can talk about that some other time" I panicked not sure I wanted to know. Later that night Janet came to me she held several notebooks.
"Paul I want to be honest no secrets, and not sure you want to hear. So these are my journal that I have kept since I was a little girl. Read them or don't but it's all in here" Janet said laying them at my feet.
"Janet I don't" I started
"Then don't read them. But they are yours. So no secrets" she told me and left the room. I stared at them. They where labeled must go back to when she was 10 or so. Curious I picked up the first one. It was indeed a young girl she wrote about friends and crushes. Even her first kiss at 12 years old. It was innocent I felt like I was spying on her. But she had told me to read them. The second book was more. At 14 in 9th grade she had let an older boy. A senior in high school fuck her in the ass. It was her first sexual experience other then some petting and kissing. She was graphic about how he fucked her. How she loved it despite the pain. Shortly after that alot of the entries where about sex. She quickly moved to oral sex. Afraid of getting pregnant several boyfriends where offered anal and oral only. Till she was almost 16. Then she had vaginal sex for the first time I became engrossed in her sexual conquests skipping over the school and family stuff searching out this young woman writing about boys and their cocks. She obviously enjoyed not only sex but the attention it bought her.
I had not even realized it had been hours since I started reading, Janet came in and caught me. I felt embarrassed.
"You seem to like them" she smiled rubbing my leg. She took the book I was reading and checked where I was.
"Janet you were quite adventurous" I mentioned.
"Did you read something you wanted to try?" She asked. I must of made a face.
"It's the butt thing isn't it?" Janet smiled. I wasn't sure about it. It seemed messy. But she was right.
"I need a few minutes" Janet smiled. She then handed me book three. And flipped to about half way through the book. She smiled.
"Read this" Janet said and went into the bathroom.
Nick is obsessed with my ass, it started. He fucked my ass in the parking lot of the dorm. He had parked right under the light. He fucked me so hard I was crying out so loud security showed up. He held me in place as he offered the security guard a turn. I spread my legs even further hoping one of them would fuck my throbbimg pussy.
"No man, just get the slut inside" the security officer said and left. She wrote how she had never been more turned on.
Janet returned as I continued to read about how this guy Nick enjoyed exposing her as a slut. I fucked Janet's ass for the first time that night. She loved it even telling me to take her.
"Pull my hair. Or smack that ass" where just some of the things Janet moaned. I found it uncomfortable to do either. I became obsessed with reading Janet's journals. The more I read the more Janet wanted to play them out. The more I read the more Janet exposed herself as a slut.
"You really did all these things?" I asked on several occasions. Which included lesbian experiences, to a gang bang. The journals stopped shortly before I met her.
"I love to do these things for you" Janet told me. I didn't know the stories turned me on. But real life not sure I could di that, but I kept reading. It took two weeks for me to read all the journals. Janet begged me to treat her like a whore like in the journals I just couldn't. But even her begging me to turned me on. I often went back and read parts of the journals again. On one such occasion Janet came home unexpectedly and caught me masterbating to a story of her getting fucked by two black men.
"It's time for you to admit you like this to happen" Janet said replacing my hand with hers.
"I don't think I could watch you with another man" I moaned.
"What if I just cheated on you, would you forgive me. Have me suck your dick to make up for it when I got home"Janet teased as I came in her hand. A few weeks later we had taken a day trip. We where about two hour drive north of home. To look at the fall foliage when we stopped at a little restaurant for lunch. Our waiter was a big black kid. After he bought us our drinks. Janet reached over and rubbed my crotch.
"Did you notice his bulge" she giggled. I got excited thinking of them together. Janet openly flirted with the young man. I of course noticed the bulge in his pants since Janet had mentioned it. The young man was a bit nervous with Janet being so forward, I didn't say a word.
"No one will ever know" Janet whispered. I just nodded. Janet got up and followed the young man. About 10 minutes later she returned. She pushed her panties into my hand.
"There is a store room upstairs, backstairs outside lead to it" she told me kissed my cheek and left. I went out and sat in the car. I kept looking up towards the stairs. It was almost an hour before Janet came down those stairs. She got in the car she smelled of sex. Her hair a mess. She grabbed me and kissed me.
"I was a naughty nasty wife, are you going to take me home and punish me now." Janet asked me. "Want me to tell you about it like in the stories you like?" I was rock hard. She reached down and grasped my cock. She quickly fished it out. She dropped and took it all in her mouth. I started the car as she sucked my cock. But before I could even drive away. I came in her mouth. Janet swallowed every drop. She sat up took a sip of water and sat back like nothing had happened. I zipped up and drove home.
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readingismyhobby24 · 3 days
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Hello everyone!!! This is the first fic I've ever posted!! I don't know if it's any good, but I had a lot of fun writing it, and it's inspired by real life events too lol.
I had a large battle with a small jumping spider a few nights ago, and I lost, terribly. It did inspire this, so I hope someone will enjoy it as much as I did while writing it. While also completely freaking out about the real life events... Sorry Wars (and Mask), you get to deal with this now 😁
Also, I wanted to thank @crazylittlejester for listening to all my rambles about the spider fight, along with encouraging me to write this fic. Thanks Jes! You're literally the best!!!
Sorry for any mistakes! This was written by me at like 1 am on Saturday, I believe, so yeah... Enjoy!
(clicks post, throws phone, then runs away screaming)
Along Came a Spider
Word count: 1,100
It had been another long, strenuous day out on the battlefield. Link’s body ached and he was so sore, it was hard for him to even make it back to his tent for the night. He was so completely and utterly exhausted.
Link had never been more ready to go to sleep.
He had finally made it back to his tent and he couldn't help but let out a relieved sigh. He walked in to find both his brothers already inside on their cots. Tune was fast asleep and looked like he had been for a while. Mask on the other hand, was wide awake.
“What took you so long?” the boy asked irritatedly. “Everyone else came back hours ago.”
“I got held up to help with battle strategies.” Linked answered quietly, to not wake their other brother.
“Couldn't they have at least let you sleep some first. What person could come up with battle strategies right after they had literally been fighting in one all day?” Mask asked.
“It’s war, Mask,” Link sighed. “We don't have much choice.”
“Well, get some sleep now. You look like you really need it,” the young boy huffed, and without another word, turned away from his brother and closed his eyes.
“Thanks. I appreciate it,” Link huffed to himself with a small laugh.
After he finally finished getting ready for bed, he went over to the lamp to turn it out. As soon as his hand was about to make contact with the knob, a strange movement caught his eye. Looking down, Link gave out a loud gasp at what he saw.
A small, brown spider was standing directly on the lamp, just above the knob, and looked to be making a web. Link was at a standstill. He so wanted to go to bed, but there was a literal spider on the lamp! He certainly wasn't going to touch it, that's for sure. Maybe he could just turn off the lamp and leave it there? It should still be there in the morning if it was making a web. He could have Wind deal with it tomorrow.
With that in mind, Link slowly lowered his hand to the knob. As soon as his finger touched the knob, the spider, without a moments hesitation, jumped at his hand.
Link screamed and quickly ran to the opposite side of the tent. The two boys who were once asleep in their cots, were quickly awoken at the sound. Both Tune and Mask quickly grabbed their swords, thinking their older brother was in danger.
“What is it?!” Shouted Tune as he quickly made it to his brother's side, Mask not far behind.
“THERE’S A SPIDER!!!! And it tried to jump on my hand!” Link yelled, and pointed, with a shaky hand, over at the lamp.
“A spider?” Tune asked confusedly, while Mask screamed at the same time, “A SPIDER?!?!”
Mask quickly jumped behind his oldest brother and yelled “KILL IT!!! KILL IT!!!”
“I'M NOT TOUCHING IT!!!” Link yelled back to the boy that was literally hanging off of him.
“You're the oldest!”
“Oldest doesn't mean bravest, Mask!”
Tune shook his head. “Oh my gosh, guys. It's just a spider. It's not going to hurt anyone.”
“Have you seen those things?!” Link shouted at Tune.
Tune sighed and headed over to the lamp, but upon looking at it, he found nothing. “Uh, Link. There is no spider over here.”
“What do you mean there isn't a spider over there? I saw it with my own eyes. It literally jumped at me!” Linked yelled exasperatedly.
“Well, there isn't one now,” Tune said as he looked around the lamp.
“Yes there is,” Linked detached himself from Mask and ran over to his other brother.
He looked around for the spider at a distance, and was shocked when he didn't see it. “Oh no. Nononononon. I can't believe we lost it!”
“Link, calm down!” Tune tried to reassure his brother.
“Don't tell me to calm down. We lost a spider!” was the young man’s frantic reply.
Mask, who was still standing behind Link, stiffened. “Ummm. Link…”
“What?”
“Look at your arm..” Mask answered worriedly.
“What about my arm?” Link said. He quickly looked down, and then he too, stiffened.
A loud scream ripped through his throat when he saw the spider running down his arm.
“GET IT OF!!! GETITOFFGETITOFF!! HELP!!!” Linked screamed.
Tune quickly grabbed his brother, trying to get him to calm down. At the same time, another figure burst through the tent, large sword at the ready.
“What is happening?” Exclaimed Impa as she ran over to the three boys, all while Link was still screaming.
“There’s a spider on Link!” Mask exclaimed.
Impa quickly rushed over and grabbed Links arm, quickly swatting the spider off. “I thought someone was being assassinated!”
“Uhhhh, yeah. Sorry about that,” Link smiled sheepishly as he took many deep breaths to calm himself.
“After everything you've been through, everything you’ve fought, and seen, you were screaming over a tiny spider?” Impa asked incredulously.
“How does me, doing any of that, have to do with my fear of spiders?” Link asked back defensively.
“Yeah,” Mask agreed. “Spiders are a whole different category of scary. Don't judge him.”
Impa shook her head, and then quickly scooped up the spider that was now on the ground, and left the tent. What no one noticed was how hard she was trying to keep from laughing at the situation. That was definitely not what she was expecting when she had heard all the commotion.
Back at the tent, Link finally got to sit down in his cot. Letting out a big sigh, he flopped down on the cot. Right before he fell asleep, he heard giggling coming from a different side of the tent.
“You know,” Mask said through his giggles. “I'm sure the entire camp heard you screaming over a tiny spider.”
Link groaned. He did not need to think about that. “If I rember correctly, you were also screaming over said tiny spider.”
“Yeah,” Tune agreed. “You guys also almost succeeded in giving Impa a heart attack.”
“Poor Impa,” Mask said. “She doesn't deserve that. Imagine if Impa died because of us and a tiny spider.”
“Well, no one died from any tiny spiders tonight, so we can thank Hylia for that,” Link joked. “Also, what happened in this tent, stays in the tent. Got it?”
“Yes sir!” Tune saluted.
“Goodnight guys,” Link said.
“Goodnight,” Mask replied.
“Don't let the spiders crawl in your bed tonight,” Tune chuckled mischievously.
“TUNE!!! WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?!?”
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area51-escapee · 5 months
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Leg Update: I’ve realized it’s now a struggle to lift my leg. At first I thought maybe I’m just weak but my other leg is fine, the hurt one is a strain to try and lift and leaves me shaking, it feels like trying to lift my leg while a heavy weight sits on it
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writingouthere · 4 months
Text
neighbor!Sukuna x single mom!reader; your ceiling is leaking at 3 in the morning and you don't know what to do so you go ask for help from the man across the hallway(inspired by real life events that were not nearly so charming).
no need to have read the others in the series but can be read as a week or two after the aquarium date.
cw: Sukuna being a menace
Sukuna had always been a light sleeper so when there were knocks on his door at 3am, he was up instantly. The knocks weren't even loud but he found himself annoyed enough to stomp to the door. If he wasn't sleeping, the people below him didn't need to be either.
He yanked his door open, prepared to make whoever it was regret every moment of their existence but it was you, holding your daughter and clearly on the verge of tears.
You seemed contrite when you saw his expression but before you could even start to apologize, he was slipping on his boots and grabbing his key.
"What's wrong," he asked.
"It-it's the ceiling, I woke up and it was leaking water. It's getting everywhere and I don't know what to do and the landlord isn't picking up."
Sukuna rubbed your arm, trying to give you some comfort and you relaxed a little.
"Okay, let me come take a look. I can call the super, he's probably more likely to answer than the landlord." You nodded and he followed you back to your place. Holding his hand out to stop you at the door as he made to go in first.
Sukuna heard the water pouring in before he saw it. He had never been in your apartment before. It was clear that a woman there. There was color everywhere, more blankets than made sense for two people and the walls were covered in photos and artwork. It felt soft, it reminded him of you. And now, it was being ruined by water raining down from the ceiling.
"Why don't you wait in my apartment. You both look like you could use some rest. I'll sort this out," he said, handing over his key. You looked ready to protest but then your daughter started crying.
"Go, I got it."
You looked so relieved and he wiped away a few tears from your daughter's face and pressed a kiss to her forehead which helped bring the tears down to a more tolerable snuffling.
"Thank you so much, I don't even-"
"Don't worry about it. You two just go settle in the guest room and I'll wake you up when it's settled."
You smiled at him and you seemed to hesitate before you went up on your toes to give him a quick peck on the cheek.
Sukuna couldn't stop himself from grinning as you took your daughter out the door and towards his apartment. He turned around to look at the mess that was your apartment. It looked like a pipe must have burst in the apartment above yours. Annoying, but a quick fix when caught this early. He grabbed his phone, opening it to call the super before a thought came to him that just wouldn't leave.
It would be a shame if you had to terminate your lease because of unsafe conditions, after all you must still have a good six months left on it. He knew you didn't have any family in the area and it would be a lot for a working mom with a kid as young as yours to go apartment hunting all the sudden.
Of course, he did have that guest room. Plenty of space for the three of you and it wouldn't be hard to bring over the stuff you needed while you looked. His apartment was bigger than yours, even though it was just him.
Even if it was a tight fit, his lease was up at the end of the year anyway. You could always get a bigger space, one for your soon to be growing family.
Sukuna pocketed his phone and took a seat at your dining table, away from the water. He figured it would only take another hour before the damage passed the point of no return.
He hoped you and your daughter were resting well in your new home.
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soaps-mohawk · 3 months
Text
Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 5: What I Want
Summary: You begin your training with Ghost, but not everything goes as smoothly as you'd hoped. At least you're learning how to want things, and that it won't kill you if you ask for them.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader, some Ghost x Soap
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, oral sex, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, suggestive content, language, brief violence, reader has a breakdown
A/N: I know I was supposed to rest, but I couldn't help myself. I just had to get this one done. I was feeling it. We're finally getting into the good stuff here. Things will kind of pick up after this part, so I'm really looking forward for that.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
(Gif pulled from google)
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You tug nervously at your sleeve, feeling exactly as you did when you had to sit in the director’s office at The Institute. Only, you never got in trouble there. You had never been summoned because you misbehaved. You made it a point not to get into trouble, avoiding it at all costs. 
You’ve been here just over a week and you’ve already messed up. 
Price is staring at you across his desk, leaning on his elbows as his blue eyes bore into you. You’re not staring at Price, you think. No, you’ve come face to face with The Captain. He’s angry, though you can’t be entirely sure. You’ve never seen him truly angry. You’re waiting on the reprimanding, the punishment, for him to tell you they’re sending you back because you’re too much trouble. 
“I want you to tell me exactly what happened.”
You flinch at his voice, half expecting him to start shouting but he sounds almost calm. There’s a strain to his voice, like he’s restraining himself. He’s doing it for your sake, you think. 
“Ghost and I were walking back from the mess when one of the alphas called out to me. He...he asked if I was going to go spread my legs for ‘that freak’ and he said he could offer me a better time.” You swallow thickly, Price’s shoulders tensing just slightly. “I don’t know what happened...I just suddenly felt so angry and it’s like I lost control of myself and I went up to him and he asked if I was gonna take him up on his offer and that he’d like to bend me over and stare at my sweet ass all night...and then I hit him, sir.” 
“Good.” 
You look up at Price in surprise at his answer, your eyes widening a bit. “S-sorry, sir?” 
“I have little tolerance for alphas that think it’s alright to speak crudely to omegas, especially those they were explicitly told to let be. You saved me a lot of paperwork today. Simon would have done a lot worse had you not gotten to him first.” He moves the papers on his desk aside, holding out his hand. “Let me see.” 
You stare at his hand for a moment before you realize he’s talking about your hand. You push your sleeve up, putting your hand in his. Your knuckles have swollen a bit and bruised, tender to the touch as he runs his thumb over them. 
“Simon told me you asked him to teach you to fight.” He says, closing his fingers around your hand. 
“Well, not so much fight, sir.” You say, staring at your hands. “Maybe just how to throw a decent punch.” 
“I’d say the one you threw today was at least half-decent. Corporal Allen is sporting quite the bruise on his face.” The corner of his lips lift in a smile. “You won’t have to worry about him anymore. He’ll be properly dealt with and they’ll all be receiving a lecture on proper base etiquette.” 
“So...am I in trouble, sir?” You ask, pulling your hand back slowly as he releases it. 
“No, you were simply defending yourself after Corporal Allen made a pass at you. Just don’t make it a habit of going around punching alphas.” He smiles. 
“I’ll try not to, sir.” You say, relieved that you weren’t about to get punished for your mistake. 
“Go on.” He nods towards the door. “I’m sure the boys are waiting for you.” 
“Thank you, sir.” You say, standing up from your chair, heading towards the door. 
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Price leans back in his chair as the door closes, the sweet scent of caramel and strawberries still permeating his office. He breathes it in for a moment before pulling out his phone, scrolling through the contacts. 
“You’ll be delighted to hear our girl punched an alpha in the face today.” He says once the other line picks up. 
“She did what?” Laswell asks, genuine surprise in her tone. 
“One of the Corporals made a pass at her, and she left quite the bruise on his cheek. She’s turning into quite the spitfire.” 
“I told you she would fit right in. Underneath all that institute-taught BS there’s quite the personality. How is she settling in?” 
“She’s softening up to the betas already. Still a bit fidgety, but she’s found a way to get Simon to warm up to her.” 
“Oh? How so?” 
“She asked him to teach her to fight.” Price grins. 
Laswell chuckles. “I told you she’s smart. Just make sure he’s gentle with her.” 
“Don't worry, I reminded him to go easy on her. I think it will be good for both of them. Some forced proximity will be good for Simon and she’ll get to learn a few things that could be helpful.” 
“So long as she doesn’t go around trying to fight more alphas.” 
“She’s already promised not to. The Corporal got off easy. I can only imagine what Simon might have done to him.” 
“I’m glad to hear things are going well, John. I worry about her sometimes, but I know you boys will take good care of her.” 
“We’re doing our best.” 
“If you ever need anything, you know you can call.” 
“I know. I’ll keep you updated as her heat gets closer.” 
“Good. I’d hate to have to file that paperwork.” 
Price grimaces. “I know. I hope you don’t have to.” 
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You’re tying your shoes as the knock sounds on the door. You’re not sure how they manage to do it, always seeming to catch you at the perfect moment. You’re glad Kate thought to get you some more active-wear type clothing, though perhaps she expected you’d be getting involved in their training or at least start a bit of your own once you arrived, just as she had thought to get you outdoorsy clothes too. 
You open the door, staring up at the hulking form of Ghost. 
“Come on.” He grunts, turning on his heel to walk down the hallway. 
You quickly close your door, hurrying after him. Not much has changed since your request for him to train you, though you didn’t really expect it to. Not at first, at least. You still have to prove yourself to him. Simply existing and getting involved in their lives would not be enough. 
He escorts you to the gym, a building you haven’t been in yet. There’s a few soldiers milling around, most of them in the weight room. There’s a pool across from the weight room, for more than just swimming, you think. Your father had talked about his own water survival training. You can only imagine the kind of water training they go through. 
Ghost leads you towards the back of the gym, unlocking a door near the exit. It’s set up not unlike a dojo, mats on the floor and punching bags and other training equipment along the walls. Ghost empties his pockets, setting his things on a bench before removing his sweatshirt. 
You can’t help but stare, only ever having seen him in long sleeves. His muscles bulge beneath his t-shirt, the first bit of skin revealed to you besides his neck, chin, and hands. Your eyes are drawn to his arms, taking in the sheer size of them. 
Tattoos. 
He has a sleeve of tattoos on his left arm. You have a desire to look at them closer, to trace each one but you wouldn’t dare. Not right now. You pull off your own sweatshirt, folding it and setting it on the bench, leaving you in just a t-shirt and your leggings. 
You fail in your attempt not to stare as he walks towards the center of the mat in his t-shirt and sweatpants, swallowing nervously. He turns to face you, motioning for you to approach with two of his fingers. Your face warms as you hurry onto the mat, coming to stand in front of him. 
“Let me see.” He says, holding out his hand. 
You stare at it for a moment before your brain catches up, and you put your right hand into his. You ignore the feeling of his fingers wrapping around your hand, lifting it so he can inspect your still bruised knuckles. 
“We’ll start with dodging.” He says, releasing your hand, taking a step back. “Let me see your stance.” 
You part your feet a little, bringing your fists up to your face. His shoulders shake in a quiet huff of a laugh as he stares at you. 
“You need to stagger your stance more.” He says, circling you. “Otherwise,” Hands push you from behind, and you nearly avoid face planting into the floor. “You’re too easy to knock over. The last thing you want is the fight to end up on the floor. You won’t be getting back up if you let your opponent overpower you that much. Again.” He motions to you. 
You set up your stance again, widening your feet just a bit. 
“Good.” He says, moving to stand in front of you. “These protect your face.” He says, hands wrapping around your wrists, raising your hands just a bit. “You get hit in the face...” 
“I won’t be getting back up.” You finish for him. 
You know most fights end up with both opponents on the ground. You’d watched your brothers wrestle and play fight enough to know that. You’re not here to learn how to win a fight, only how to protect yourself enough until you can find space to run. 
You barely have time to stumble back as his fist swings at you, nearly losing your footing. “Hey! You could warn me first.” 
“You think someone attacking you is going to warn you?” He asks. 
He has a point. 
“Use your legs.” He says as you set yourself up again. “Move side to side if you can instead of ducking under the punch, but if you have to, don’t let your eyes leave your opponent.” 
You see this punch coming, ducking to your right to avoid getting hit. 
“Good.” He says, repeating the motion with his left hand. “Stay focused.” 
You continue with the same motion a few times, already starting to feel a bit fatigued. Running is one thing, but strength is another. Most omegas aren’t naturally strong, nor are they inclined to increase their strength. That’s what alphas and their packs are for. It’s not unheard of, though, for omegas to increase their physical strength. Perhaps you’ll need to consider looking into doing that as well. 
Ghost takes a step back, letting you rest for a moment. You’re breathing heavily, though he’s hardly looking fatigued at all. He’s used to this, you remind yourself. He probably throws more punches in a day in the field than he’s thrown at you so far in 30 minutes. 
“Now, let’s make it a bit more realistic.” He says, a low rumble at the edge of his voice. 
A wave of scent hits you, your brain nearly short-circuiting. Fear pulses through you, ozone burning your nostrils. You stumble backwards, landing on your back on the mat. You’re breathing heavily, every cell in your body screaming at you to run or submit. 
“That’s...that’s n-not fair!” You say, your hands trembling from the adrenaline coursing through you. 
“Any alpha you fight is going to use every natural advantage they have over you.” Ghost says, stalking towards you. You can practically see it, the purebred alpha within him coming through. “You need to learn to protect yourself against them.” 
“That's...that’s not possible.” You say, the edge of a whine detectable in your tone. 
He kneels down over you, crowding into your space despite the souring of your scent. It doesn’t even seem to phase him as he forces you flat on your back, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head. You stare up at him, every fiber of your being screaming at you to bare your throat, submit, give in. 
Don’t back down. 
Don’t back down. 
You push past the fear, the instincts screaming at you as you drive your knee up into his stomach. He lets out a grunt but it doesn’t phase him, his hand wrapping around your leg, using his sheer strength to flip you onto your stomach under him. He presses against you, body folding over yours. You resist the urge, the instinct to press back into him, to be a good omega. 
“If an alpha gets you onto the floor...” He says, warm breath fanning your ear through his mask. “You won’t want to get back up.” 
His face presses against your neck as he inhales deeply before he pushes himself up, grabbing the back of your shirt and hauling you to your feet as well. You’re shaking, your heart thumping in your chest. Your head feels fuzzy, your brain buzzing a bit. Your omega is confused, poised to strike but she’s not sure against who. Ghost isn’t a threat, and you know that, but he had just proved how easily he could be. Any of them could be, with a simple scent change and their sheer strength. 
“Again.” He says, getting into a fighting stance. 
“You can’t expect me to fight after that.” You say, your voice breathless. 
“If you’re in a real fight, you won’t have much of a choice.” He says, the rumble still audible around his own voice. 
He’s right. If someone is attacking you, it’s likely going to be to kill, or to try and take you from them. Your omega shifts uncomfortably as you raise your shaking hands to guard your face. You continue to dodge punches, hitting the ground more and more as you continue to get tired. You’re going to be sore, still feeling your hike through the woods a bit. 
The door opens, giving you a moment to breathe. Soap enters, a grin on his face. 
“Ah, the wee lass is still breathin’.” He says, leaning against the wall. “Came tae make sure ye hadnae killed ‘er.” 
You can practically hear Ghost roll his eyes, his back turned to you as he says something to Soap. You can’t hear what it is, the ringing in your ears too loud. Your omega is still worked up, still poised to strike, more so now in your exhausted state. You push yourself off the floor, not having a moment to think things through before you’re throwing yourself at Ghost’s back. 
He turns before you hit him, catching you and flipping you onto your back on the mat. You hit hard, the breath forced from your lungs at the impact.
“Christ, Simon!” Soap shouts, hurrying to your side. “Ye tryin’ tae break her, ye numpty?” 
“Don’t do that again.” Ghost growls at you, stomping over to grab his things before leaving the room. 
“Easy, hen.” Soap soothes you as you gasp for air, his hand gently rubbing your shoulder. “Be over before ye know it.” 
Slowly the paralysis of your diaphragm begins to lessen, your stomach still aching but the air comes easier now. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to fight the tears. You’ve messed it up. One day and you’ve already done more damage than you would have had you not asked him to teach you to fight. 
“Don’ worry, hen. He’s just worked up, that's all.” Soap says, brushing a damp strand of hair from your forehead. 
“It’s his fault.” You murmur. 
“Maybe, but yer scent...surprised you didn’t notice, hen.” Soap wiggles his brows. 
Your face warms. You hadn’t noticed the uptick of muskiness in the room, the heady scent of arousal before now.
It’s not yours. 
“Me?” You ask, letting Soap help you into a seated position. 
Soap smirks. “It wasnae me that tented his breeks this time.” 
Your face warms even more, your body feeling like it might explode. 
“Come on, hen.” He says, slipping his hands under your arms to lift you to your feet. “There’s still time tae shower before breakfast.” 
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“I can assume you know why you were called in here sooner than our normal weekly meeting time.” Dr. Keller says as you sit in her office. 
“Because I punched Corporal Allen.” You say with a wince. 
Dr. Keller nods. “Indeed. I just want to make sure you’re feeling alright, after that. Getting into an altercation with an alpha can be tough.” 
“I don’t think I’d call it an altercation.” You say quietly. 
“Maybe not,” She says, shuffling her papers. “But standing up to an alpha can be daunting.” 
“I wasn’t alone.” You shrug. “Ghost was there.” 
“I saw both yours and Lieutenant Riley’s account of what happened. I’m wondering, would you have confronted him if you were alone?” 
Her question makes you think for a moment. Would you have stopped? Would you have confronted him, much less punched him if you were alone, or even with one of the others? No, you likely would have ignored him and kept walking like you did with Gaz. You’d likely have gone straight to your room and cried a little out of embarrassment and disgust. 
“No, ma’am.” You say quietly. “I don’t think so.” 
Dr. Keller nods. “You’re aware of Lieutenant Riley’s status.” 
You nod, a frown pulling at your brows. How did she figure it out? “Yes, ma’am.” 
“I know because I have access to their medical records.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s required for statuses to be present in medical records since purebreds have to be treated differently, just as alphas, betas, and omegas have to be treated differently.” 
You do know that. You know that an injured alpha can get defensive if they feel cornered. You know omegas can die from stress if they’re not taken care of correctly. You know betas can get overwhelmed by large groups of injured people all in the same place without proper training to filter out the scents of agony and suffering. 
“I think you reacted to his scent.” Dr. Keller continues. “You mentioned feeling a sudden rush of uncontrollable anger. Do you remember smelling anything at that moment?” 
You nod. “Ozone.” 
She nods, the pieces beginning to come together in your own head. “I’m sure you’ve figured out how different purebred alpha’s are and how much more potent their scents are. Your own status makes you more susceptible to their scents and the changes in them. You were reacting to the change in his scent. Your omega sensed a threat, and took over for a moment to defend you. It’s a natural response in omegas towards those they see as protectors, or even packmates.” 
Your eyes widen a bit at her words. Ghost is technically your packmate. He’s an alpha in your pack, but you’ve never considered that you see him as anything but. He has defended you, and he had defended you not long before your altercation with Corporal Allen. Had your omega begun to cling to him out of a sheer need for protection after something like what happened in the mess? 
You would like Ghost to see you as more than just an omega in his pack, more than just Price’s omega. You know he’d never claim you, but you’d at least like to get onto friendly terms with him. Soap said it had taken proving himself before Ghost started to accept him. You’re hoping your time spent learning how to fight helps you prove yourself, that you’re not a threat or even a risk. That maybe you can be an acceptable omega for his pack. 
“Aside from this incident, how are you settling in? How are things going with your new pack?” 
“Fine, I guess.” You shrug, starting to pick at your sleeve again. “Ghost is teaching me to defend myself.”
“Oh? Does this have something to do with what happened with Corporal Allen? Or is there a different reason?” Dr. Keller asks. 
“I mean, partially that but also, Ghost, he’s...hard to get along with.” You grimace. “I know that in relationships, a good way to bond with people is to get into their hobbies so you have something in common. Ghost...ghost speaks in violence and I think it would help ease some of my fears if I can at least defend myself.” 
“I think this is a great idea. It allows for some bonding time between the two of you, and it can also be beneficial to ease your anxiety a bit. As long as you’re being careful and you don’t get hurt.” She says, giving you a pointed look. 
You think back to Ghost flipping you onto your back on the mat, narrowly missing getting hit, how he’d pinned you down using his own scent against you. “He’s being careful.” You say, clearing your throat. “Price would put him through the ringer if something happened. Even just as an accident.” 
“How are things going with Price?” She asks, writing something down. 
You shrug. “Fine. He involved me in some training this past weekend. We hiked out to a watchtower and the others tried to follow my scent. We got to spend some time together while we waited.” 
“Have you done much of that? Spending time together?” She asks. 
You shake your head. “Not really. He’s...busy. A lot.” 
“You should start making an effort to get to know him more.” Dr. Keller says. “It’ll make it easier once your heat hits if you’re familiar with him. Have you knelt for him yet?” 
You shake your head again, not wanting to answer out loud. 
“Why not?” She asks. 
“He still hasn’t asked me to.” You murmur. 
“Do you know why omegas kneel for their alphas?” She asks. 
You nod. “It’s good for our brains and bodies. It helps relax us and soothes our omega, makes it easier to process stressful events and can prevent stress related diseases later in life.” 
Dr. Keller nods. “Correct. It’s an important first step in building that bond between an alpha and an omega, when it’s done correctly.” 
Bad alphas can use kneeling to control omegas, put them in certain mindsets, make them more subservient. You know this, you’d heard stories from your fellow omegas after watching their parents. That’s not kneeling. You never had the heart to tell them it was so much worse. 
“Do you want to kneel for him?” She asks you. 
That word again. 
You do want to kneel for him. You’ve wanted to since this past Saturday in the watchtower. You’ve felt that urge, that drive to drop to your knees beside him and let yourself go, let him carry everything you’ve been feeling over the last week. 
You nod slowly, ripping one of the strings off your sleeve. You’re fighting the tears, fighting the emotions welling up inside you. You can feel them building, pushing against your stomach and your chest, threatening to burst right out of your skin and leave you nothing but an empty carcass. You’re breathing has picked up, shaking a bit as you inhale deeply. 
“Why haven’t you asked?” Dr. Keller asks, her brows furrowing as she stares at you. 
“I don’t know how!” The words tear from your lips, almost echoing as they bounce off the walls like projectiles. You haven’t so much as raised your voice in years, much less to a person of authority, but you can’t stop. The dam has been breached. “Everyone keeps asking me what I want, but I don’t know how to want!” Tears cascade down your cheeks, your breaths coming in sharp gasps. You cover your face with your hands, muffling your sobs. “I’m not supposed to want.” 
“Hey,” Dr. Keller’s voice is soft as she kneels in front of you, her hands trying to gently pry yours away from your face. “Who told you that?” 
“That’s what we’re taught!” You hiccup, letting her pull your hands from your face. The tears are still falling, lips trembling as you sob. “We’re supposed to be good omegas. Obedient and serve our alphas. We don’t want anything, we’re only supposed to give.” 
“Well that’s a load of bullshit if I’ve ever heard it.” 
Dr. Keller’s words shock you into reality, your sobs halting with a sharp inhale. You stare at her, the tears still spilling from your eyes. Your hands are closed into fists, your sore knuckles aching from the strain. 
“You’re an omega. It’s in your nature to want, to need. You can’t help your alpha if your own needs aren’t being met first. It’s okay to need things, to want things. Are there things you want?” 
“Softer blankets. Fluffier pillows. A nightlight. Something to put on my walls. Strawberry scented body wash. Some goddamn authentic Mexican food.” 
Dr. Keller chuckles lightly. “I can agree with you on that last one.” She squeezes your arms gently. “You’re allowed to ask for things. You’re not a soldier, and even they are allowed to have things of their own, comfort items, with them. It doesn’t have to be material things either that you ask for. I’m sure your pack would find a way to bend over backwards if you asked them.” 
She’s right. The book says omegas can hold great power over the members of their packs if they try. A mix of playing their instincts and the right behavior and temperament can have betas and alphas wrapped around your finger. The idea of having such control over four powerful men makes your head spin. 
“I want Soap to kiss me.” You blurt out, your face warming as you hastily wipe at your tears to hide. 
“Oh?” Dr. Keller’s eyebrows raise as she looks at you. “This is a new development.” 
“We...we almost did...a couple days ago.” You say, burying your face in your hands. “But I stopped it because I thought maybe Price...but then he said he didn’t care...” 
Dr. Keller gently wraps her hands around your wrists, lowering your hands. “It’s okay to want that, and it’s okay to want to kneel for Price. I bet he’d be delighted if you asked him. I bet he was waiting because he didn't think you were ready for it yet.”  
The calming beta scent washes over you, Dr. Keller projecting it to try and help you calm down. Your tears have stopped, your breathing starting to slow as the gentle almond scent goes straight to your brain. 
“I’d like us to still meet for our regularly scheduled appointment this week, but I’m giving you an assignment to complete between then and now.” Dr. Keller says. “I want you to ask one of the members of your pack for one thing that you want. You can pick what it is, and who you ask, but I want to hear about it when I see you later this week, understood?” 
You push back the nerves twisting in your stomach. “Yes, ma’am.” 
“Good.” She pushes herself up to stand. “You can stay here as long as you want. Just let me know when you’re ready to go back to the barracks. Take your time. You are my only patient.” 
She grabs the paperwork off the couch before moving to her desk. You watch her for a moment before letting your eyes wander. You wipe at your face, your cheeks feeling puffy from your tears. You’re glad she’s giving you time to relax. The last thing you needed was to run into a member of your pack like this. 
That’s not a conversation you want to have right now. 
You take deep breaths, letting the beta scent permeating the air calm you down. You sink down further into the chair, letting it surround you. It’s soft, the cushions pressing around you like a hug. You wonder how she managed to get it in the hard, “function-above-all” world of the military. You wonder how she got most things in her office, or maybe if she’d brought them with her. 
It was likely Kate’s doing, you think. The office space was made for an omega, set up to be as comforting as possible. Though, you don't doubt Dr. Keller would have argued her case for having these things fearlessly if she had to. 
You stay in her office for a while, listening to the clacking of her keyboard as the soothing beta scent washes over you. Your eyes are still burning a bit as you force yourself out of the chair, out of the soft comfort you could spend days wrapped in. 
“I’m ready to go now.” You say quietly. 
“Okay.” Dr. Keller says, finishing what she was typing before she stands, grabbing her keys. 
She locks the office behind you before you leave the medical center, pulling up your hood to protect you from the drizzling rain. You’re growing used to the perpetually grey skies and sudden rainstorms. 
Dr. Keller squeezes your arm gently as you stop at the door to the barracks. “Remember what I told you. I’ll see you in a few days, alright?” 
You nod. “Thank you.” 
She smiles softly. “You did good today. I am proud of you.” 
You slip into the door of the barracks as she makes her way back to the medical center, your shoes squeaking on the tile floors. You head back to your room, the silence in the barracks telling you they’re not back yet. 
You kick off your shoes, pulling your damp sweatshirt off as you sit on the edge of your bed. You stare at your ruined sleeve, the seam split to the edge of the cuff now. You got the sweatshirt from one of your fellow omegas at the institute, and you’ve worn it almost every day since. It’s turned a bit raggedy, and your picking at it hasn’t helped any. 
Ask for one thing that you want. 
It would be easy to ask for a new sweatshirt. You’re sure if you asked Gaz, he’d give you the one right off his back. Everything you can think to ask for, they’d have to buy. If you asked Soap, he’d likely commandeer the closest vehicle and drive straight to town and buy you one in every color, even if he didn’t have permission to. 
You could ask for something that’s not material. 
Warmth floods your face as you think about it. How would you even ask? You can’t just ask directly. You could, but you might die of embarrassment if anyone heard you. There’s nothing to really be embarrassed about, but you can’t help it. It’s a bold thing to ask for, and you’re not sure you’re feeling quite so bold today. 
You chew on your lip as the barrack door opens, their voices echoing down the hallway as they return from their morning training. They pass by your door, their own doors opening and closing. You get up, moving to stand in front of your own door, holding your breath. You could just step out, knock on his door and ask. He’s probably changing, though. You’d never get the words out if he thought it was one of the others and opened it half dressed. 
You have to do it, though, before you lose your nerve. If you don’t do it now, you’ll never do it and you’ll have to tell Dr. Keller that you failed. You’re allowed to want things. It’s your nature to want things. It’s human nature to want things. There’s nothing wrong with having needs and wants. 
You can want this. 
You repeat it over and over as you slowly open your door, letting it close behind you. You smell the air, finding the trail of his scent. It disappears down the hall and around the corner towards the rec room. Your legs feel shaky as you follow it, your stomach twisting anxiously. You can want this. It’s okay to want this. 
You turn the corner, finding him coming out of the rec room. He grins at you, eyes sparkling. 
You want this. 
“Hey, lass, was just lookin’ for ye. Are ye ready for lunch-” 
His words cut off as you grab his face, standing on your toes to press your lips against his. He makes a surprised sound against your lips, his body tensing. It’s quick, only a couple seconds before you’re releasing him, taking a big step back. Your eyes are wide with shock, almost as wide as his. His lips are parted in surprise still, his shoulders tensed. 
“Sorry.” You blurt out, your nerves only heightened. What if he hadn’t wanted it? “Sorry, I just...I wanted to do it and I wanted you to do it that day, but I’ve never had a real kiss before and I thought maybe Price would want to...but then he said he didn’t care-” 
Your words cut off as he grips your chin, lifting your face so you’re looking at him. The tension has melted from his shoulders, the surprise gone from his face. His eyes are soft as they stare down at you, his thumb brushing your lower lip. 
“I didnae know it was yer first kiss.” He says softly. “I wouldnae pushed it so far if I did.” 
“It wasn’t technically my first kiss, I kissed another omega at the institute but I don’t really count it cause I did it for her.” You shrug. “I’ve regretted pulling away since that day and Dr. Keller said I should start learning to want things and she gave me the assignment of asking for one thing that I want before I see her again at the end of the week and I could have just asked for something simple but-” 
Your words are cut off as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours again. It’s soft and sweet, his hand sliding from your chin to the back of your head, holding you against him. Your fingers grip his shirt, and you lift yourself onto your toes to press back against him as his lips move against yours. 
His forehead presses against yours as he pulls away, your breaths mingling as you continue to hold each other. “Gaz will be upset he missed out.” He says quietly, lips tugging up in a smile as he squeezes your waist. 
“He can kiss me later.” You say, pressing a quick kiss to his lips once more before pulling away. “After lunch.” 
Soap chuckles quietly, slipping his hand into yours. “After lunch.” 
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You hesitate outside the door, shifting nervously on your feet. You could turn around and go back to bed, pretend like you hadn’t spent an hour convincing yourself to walk down here, like you haven’t been thinking about this all afternoon. You had already completed your assignment for the week. You’d kissed Soap, done something you wanted. You’ve fulfilled that desire, and it didn’t kill you. You hadn’t dropped dead afterward. If the others noticed, they didn’t say anything. 
This isn’t a want. 
You knock softly on the door, half tempted to turn and run and hide under your covers until you inevitably have to get up tomorrow. 
“Come in.” 
Your hand hesitates on the door handle for just a moment before you’re turning it, stepping into the office. He doesn’t look surprised to see you, though you suppose if nothing else, he had smelled you standing outside. The thought makes your cheeks warm in embarrassment. How long has he known you were standing out there? 
“What can I do for you, sweetheart?” He asks, setting down his pen. 
You shuffle nervously, clasping your hands in front of you. “I-I was wondering...I..um...” You take a deep breath. “I was wondering if I could kneel for you.” 
You bite your lip as he stares at you, the words having come out fast, almost meshing into one long string of nonsense. His eyes darken just a bit, his scent thickening in the air. 
“You want to kneel for me, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice low and rough. 
You nod, shifting your weight again. “Yes, sir.” 
“Grab a pillow.” He nods to the couch. “I won’t have you hurting yourself.” 
You grab one of the pillows from the couch, wondering how often he’s slept in his office. How many nights he’s spent awake, pouring over files, his mind working too hard for him to find any rest. You set the pillow on the floor before kneeling down next to him, facing his desk. You shift until you’re comfortable, sitting back on your feet. You let out a long breath as your eyes slipped closed, your fingers twitching anxiously in your lap. 
Price’s hand is gentle as it comes to rest on the top of your head. You relax into his touch as he strokes your hair, working his way down towards your neck. You force your mind to relax, easing away the desire to tense your shoulders, to draw them up around your ears. It’s pure natural instinct, one that will fade the more you practice, the more you bond with him. The more you trust him. 
“Ready?” He asks, his voice sounding far away despite the fact you’re right next to him. 
“Yes, sir.” You murmur, pressing your head into his hand. 
His hand slips lower, curling around the back of your neck. You inhale sharply as he finally makes contact with the sensitive area. His hand is warm, the tension slowly easing from your body as he presses his thumb lightly into the side of your neck. The back of your brain begins to buzz, your mind slowly filling with static. You relax even further, your head bowing just slightly as you feel the weight of the last three months lifting off your shoulders. 
All the emotions, all the fear, all the unknowns suddenly feel far away. All the apprehension and the anxiety are soothed to nothing as he holds you, the hand on your neck a firm reminder that you’re not alone in this anymore. You have an alpha now, a strong alpha that you can trust in, that will carry it all for you. 
You don’t need to be stressed or afraid anymore. A warmth begins blossoming within you, spreading from your core out to your fingers and toes. You feel a bit dazed, but not in a bad way. You’re not afraid of the feeling, not with your alpha’s hand around the back of your neck keeping you safe. 
You’re not sure how much time passes, how long you kneel there. It could be five minutes, it could be two hours. Price continues to go over his paperwork, his other hand steady on the back of your neck. It’s not until he’s done that he carefully pushes his seat back, kneeling on the floor next to you. He releases your neck, catching your body as it slumps over, drawing you against his chest. 
“Easy, sweet girl.” He murmurs, pressing your face into his neck. 
You’re shaking a bit, brain still dazed and flying as you breathe in his scent. Earthy, trees, petrichor. The warm muskiness of a content alpha. You made him smell like that. You invoked that scent. 
“Feeling alright?” He murmurs into your hair, gently stroking your side as you begin to come back into your body. 
You hum in affirmation, wrapping your arms around his neck. You haven’t been this close to him yet, not since the scenting and that was more of a formal closeness, a required closeness. This is because you want it. 
“Don’t let me go.” You murmur into his neck, clinging to him tightly. 
His arms tighten around you for a moment before he slips them under you, lifting you into his arms easily. He pushes himself from the floor, moving to sit on the couch with you on his lap. You let yourself go lax in his hold again, feeling calmer and more relaxed than you have in months. You feel safe in his arms, not that he would have let anything happen to you before. 
You’ve always been safe, you think as you let your eyes drift closed again. 
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The water is hot as it runs down his back, contrasting the cool tile against his forehead. His eyes are closed, breaths slow and steady through his nose. He can’t get that damn scent of vanilla and sweet, sweet omega arousal out of his head. He drives his fist into the wall with a growl, cursing the blood rushing south. 
He can’t forget the way you felt under him, pinned so easily and helpless beneath him. He hates the way his cock twitches at the thought of the pout on your lips as he’d swung at you, narrowly missing you too many times. The way you tried to jump him. 
He lets out another frustrated growl, slamming his forehead into the tile. A hand presses against his bare back and he turns on his heel, hand wrapping around Johnny’s throat, slamming him back against the shower wall. 
Jesus Christ, he’s going to kill the mutt one of these days. 
“Easy, Lt.” Johnny rasps, not fazed at all by the alpha’s actions. His eyes flicker lower, to the hard cock standing at attention. “Bit worked up, eh?” 
He lets Johnny go with a growl, stepping back under the water, turning it all the way to the right until it’s nearly freezing. He almost groans in frustration as the water shuts off completely, his eyes cracking open as Johnny’s hand trails up his chest. 
“Easy, big guy. Let me help ye.” 
Simon moves until his back is pressed against the tiles, eyes not leaving Johnny’s sapphire ones as the beta slowly kneels in front of him. Johnny’s hands trace over his hips, outlining scars both old and new. Johnny’s fingers finally reach his cock, wrapping around the thick length. Simon sighs in quiet relief as Johnny slowly pumps his length, their gazes still locked. 
Simon stares down at Johnny through his blonde lashes as Johnny leans forward, dragging his tongue along his head. A low growl rumbles through his chest as the beta circles his tongue around his head, smearing precum on his chin. He’s painfully hard now, breaking his gaze as his head tilts back, eyes fluttering closed. 
His fingers sink into Johnny’s mohawk as the beta takes his cock in his mouth. He breathes through his nose, relaxing his throat as Simon’s cock sinks deeper and deeper, Johnny’s hands closing around his hips to hold himself steady. Simon grips his hair tightly as he begins to move, bobbing his head along his length, his tongue pressing against the bottom of his cock. 
Simon squeezes his eyes closed as an image comes to mind, a smaller hand fondling his balls. His hand wraps around the base of his cock as he imagines soft lips on his tip, Johnny’s tongue tracing the parts of him that you can’t fit yet as you take him in your mouth. The sweet whines that would be pulled from you as he choked you on his thick length, Johnny whispering sweet encouragements to you. 
He can picture the two of you, you and Johnny with your tongues entwined, his cum stringing between your lips. 
He growls, yanking Johnny off his cock and pinning him to the tile wall. Johnny’s lips are parted as he breathes heavily, eyes blown with lust as he stares up at his alpha. Simon’s hand tugs at his hair, tilting his head back to bear his throat. Johnny lets out a quiet moan as he sinks his teeth into the delicate skin, leaving a mark he’ll wear proudly for a few days. 
“Turn around and bend over.” He growls to the beta, his cock still hard and throbbing. 
“Sir, yes sir.” Johnny says, smirking wickedly as he slowly turns to face the wall. 
Fucking christ, Simon groans. They’re going to be the death of him. 
You’re going to be the death of him. 
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Taglist, part 1:
@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @ghostlythots @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @thychuvaluswife @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @bisky-business @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @cadotoast @linaangel @rancid-wasp @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @puppyel @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006
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kxsalt · 1 month
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(Hot Coffee, part one. Part two is here.)
Hot coffee pours from the carafe. The young lady turns back to her customer and hands him the steaming cup. He pauses to look thoughtfully into the brew. Pointing at it, he asks; “Is this vegan?” She stares at him blankly. “Uh, yes. Coffee is vegan.” He nods in approval and wanders over to the condiment bar to pour cream into his cup. The girl watches him with dead eyes, shakes her head, and returns to her work. “Oookay… I can help the next customer!”
The next man in line steps up to the counter. “Small coffee, black, please and thank you.” She’s relieved by his basic manners and comprehensive understanding of how to purchase coffee. Pouring his cup, she looks back at him and meets his eyes. “You look super familiar. Have you been here before?” He leans against the counter as she steals a peek at his toned arms. “No, I haven’t. I might be coming by regularly; I just started some work nearby.”  The barista brings the cup to him. “Ah, well, I hope you enjoy your new job!” Handing the man his coffee, they both glance over to see the first customer adding honey into his mug. He looks back at her with a compassionate smile. “Thanks, you too.”
She thinks about him for the rest of her shift, crawling through traffic on her bus ride home, and throughout the evening. I know I’ve seen him before, but where? He didn’t seem to recognize me at all. Finishing her night early, she crawls into bed. The girl opens up her laptop and reaches into her bedside drawer. Pulling out her strongest vibrator, she speaks to it. “It’s been a long day.” Pulling up an old comfort video she presses the buzzing toy firmly against her clit. She exhales deeply and finally starts to relax. Her eyes are fixed on the porn on her laptop. At first, she focuses on the man’s strong arms, gripping the woman by the hips – something that always excited her. But as the video carries on, she finds herself looking at the woman’s face. She looks so excited. Pleasured. Happy.
“You like that, slut?” The girl almost screams, dropping her vibrator between her legs. The man in the video has leaned into the frame. That’s him. From the shop today. That’s him. The woman in the video moans; “Yes! I love it!” He grabs her by the neck. “Do you want to be a good whore?”
She looks into his eyes. “Yes, I do.”
A few days later, the girl clocks out for her break. She spends it like all her other breaks, sitting outside, vaping, and fantasizing about sex or getting hit by a bus, depending on her mood. Today is a bus day. She blows a cloud of vapour into the air which drifts past the entrance to the coffee shop. A customer emerges with his coffee, lights a cigarette, and sits down next to her. The girl barely notices: She’s at the part of her fantasy where she’s in the hospital with a lawyer getting a giant check from the city. He takes a drag of his cigarette and gestures at the cloud in front of the shop.
“That stuff will kill you, you know.”
She jolts from her fantasy and turns to the smoking man. “What? Oh, hi! It’s you again. Um…” She fumbles with her device. “What do you mean? Smoking isn’t any better.”
“What? Really? But it’s vegan.” He retorts in a sing-song voice.
The girl clues in on the joke and they laugh together. She expected to be at a loss for words when she saw him again, but she finds herself oddly comfortable.
“So… I know where I recognize you from…?”
“Shit, really? They still have those wanted posters up? Please don’t call the cops.”
They laugh some more. “I just wanted to say… That I’m a big fan. I think what you do is… cool?”
“Oh, thank you! It takes a lot of vulnerability, so hearing that means a lot.”
“How did you start… you know… making porn?”
“What do you mean? I just started. Life’s short. I wanted to do it. So, I did.”
She nods slowly, stunned by the simplicity of his answer.
“You know, I’m filming right around the corner. If you ever wanted to come by and see the process, you’re more than welcome to. Just so long as it doesn’t ruin the magic for you.”
“Really? Yeah. Yeah, I would love that.”
“Great, here’s my number. Just let me know when you want to come by.”
He stands up and puts out his cigarette.
“By the way, you should quit. It’s bad for your health.”
“Oh please, vaping is the only thing that gets me through the day.”
He walks off to his job. “I wasn’t talking about that!”
She approaches the unassuming apartment door. Hanging from the door handle is a small sign: ‘Filming, don’t knock.’ The girl turns the handle carefully and sneaks inside. All the lights are off, except for the bedroom which is flooded with light. The familiar sounds of sex drift through the apartment. She stealthily approaches the doorway and peers into the bright room.
Three people with various film equipment surround a couple on the bed. She immediately recognizes her new friend kneeling behind a woman. He’s gripping her waist and forcing his cock deep into her. She’s bent over, ass up in the air, with her wrists handcuffed to the bedframe. The woman shrieks in delight with each thrust.
The director sees the young girl at the doorway and slips away to go and talk to her.
“Are you the fluffer?” The director whispers.
“What’s a fluffer?” The girl whispers back.
“Oh, you’re his friend. Never mind. Can you just wait here until the scene is done?”
The woman returns to the improvised set. The girl watches greedily, enjoying her voyeuristic perspective. She feels a combination of fascination and arousal that she’s never felt before. After a few more minutes, the director calls cut and asks the couple to switch positions. The woman on the bed rolls onto her back, her face flushed with ecstasy. The director waves to the actress. “Sorry, we gotta fix your makeup, take five, okay?” The woman releases herself from her handcuffs and scurries off to the bathroom.
“Hey, you made it!” The man sits on the bed, stroking his cock. “Come in, don’t be shy.”
She wanders over to talk to him, giving an awkward wave to the camera crew. Sitting on the bed next to the naked man, they make small talk and he explains a bit of how they work. All the while, he leans back against the bedframe, showing off his muscular body, and stroking himself. She finds himself staring at his thick cock running through his hands.
“Sorry, I just need to stay hard for when we get going again.”
“No problem… That makes sense. Nothing I haven’t seen before!” She jokes and toys with her hair. “Question: what’s a ‘fluffer’?”
“A fluffer is a girl who’s not part of the scene, who helps keep the actor hard during downtime like this. She might have sex or give head.” She catches him glancing at her chest. “…or sometimes just flirt and look cute. Usually, people just do it for fun, but it’s very useful.”
“Aha, okay…” She looks around the room. The crew is entirely ignoring her, scrolling through their phones. Looking into the bathroom she sees the actress still working on fixing her makeup. The girl turns back to the man.
“I don’t want to get in the way, or anything. But… Can I try? Being a fluffer?”
A sweet smile. “That would be really helpful.”
The girl smiles back and lowers her head into his lap. Taking his cock from his hand she strokes it softly, admiring its size. It’s bigger in person. Hungry for him, she wraps her lips around his head. He growls, sending warm waves through her body echoing in her pussy. Her mind goes blank and she slips him into her throat. Wet lips push into the base of his thick, shaved cock. Pride and excitement fill her as he starts to mumble and gasp from her fellatio. Saliva runs onto his balls, which she gently plays with as she deepthroats him. Her pussy drips as his breathing becomes raspy and shallow. I’m deepthroating my favorite porn star, and he loves it. She always knew she was a good cocksucker but getting this reaction from someone so experienced felt incredible.
His hand still softly stroking her hair, she sucks his dick joyfully. Lips wrapped around him, her tongue pushes firmly below his tip, licking upwards to squeeze a little taste of his precum. Still caressing his balls with one hand, the other strokes his shaft. The girl tightens her grip, maximizes her suction, and increases her pace. The man makes another primal noise, and the hand running through her hair finds its grip. Holding onto the back of her head, he pushes her face down again. The girl clamps onto his dick, forcing him to pull hard back up to slide her head up to the top again.
Willing tears roll down her concave cheeks as she holds his cock in his mouth with everything she has. The girl only relents her throat’s hold to let him force his cock deeper. Her shiny eyes meet his unfocused gaze. Her expression is one of complete submission. His expression could easily be mistaken for rage. The man’s other hand reaches down under her dress to find her without panties, and a smooth, bare pussy. She’s wet with her cum, and he grips her bum with the palm of his hand, sliding two fingers into her with ease. The girl’s eyes cross from the feeling of him penetrating her. He bares his teeth and shoves her head down again, and his fingers deep into her pussy.
Sparks fly across her vision and her head swims. A lack of oxygen from her deepthroating of the man’s thick cock, and adrenaline from his touch cause her to come close to fainting. Her pussy only gets wetter at the thought of passing out from getting used by him.
Moments away from darkness, the actress returns from the bathroom and steps over the girl to return to her position. As she reattaches the restraints to her wrists, the director asks them to resume the scene. The fluffer pulls her head off his cock with a pop. She looks up at him, teary-eyed, gasping for breath, and panting for his dick. His eyes are locked deep into hers with a feral glow. Teasing him, she gives him a naughty grin, strings of drool running from her chin to his throbbing cock. “Back to work for you!” Her voice is playful and confident, but her eyes betray a needy disappointment with their interruption.
The girl slowly slides off the bed, standing to face away from him. She looks over her shoulder, down to her exposed bum. His hand still deep between her thighs, gripping her ass, fingers still in her pussy. Not wanting to let go, he doesn’t break eye contact, holding her there. Pushing back just an inch, she fits a little bit more of him inside herself.
“Let’s keep going, we’ve still got a lot to shoot.”
The man gives a disappointed groan and releases the young lady. His fingers slide from her eager slit and he rolls over onto the actress. The girl walks back to the doorway with a sly butt wiggle. The man pushes his cock against the bound woman’s pussy, trying to resume the scene. The actress complains and whines, “Fuck, you’re so hard. Jesus, go slow to start.”
The camera rolls. The man is a professional, and he resumes fucking the actress, with just slightly less enthusiasm than before. Buried deep inside her, he looks up, past the lights, straight into the girl’s eyes. She winks at him and bites her lip.
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tonysbed · 1 month
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Love, Cars and leaked tapes | MV1 & ???
max verstappen x driver!reader
Summary: Max Icloud gets hacked, which resolves in a sextape leak. Max suddenly gets scared that he still has the tape of Vegas 21 on his phone..
warnings: Talk abt sex, leaked sextape, sexual language, swearing?
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Your face was pale, hands gripping your phone and eyes wide. You had told Max hundreds of times to not keep any tapes on his phone in case of things like this.
Someone had gained access to Max’s Icloud and leaked your sextape. You were a little relieved when you saw which one it was. Just a simple ‘vanilla’ missionary sex video. Nothing to special. It could’ve gone worse.
The front door of your shared apartment slammed shut “Schatje? Where are you?” His voice seemed stressed “Living room” You yelled back.
His frame appears before you “Lifje I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it was still on there. God I’m so stupid” He sat down at the other end of the sofa.
You sighed “See the positive” He raised his eyebrows “What’s positive to this?” You crawled over to him and laid your head in his lap “It wasn’t anything worse”
His eyes widened “Oh god, Did I delete Vegas 21 from my phone?” His fingers trying to fish his phone out of his pocket “Max”
He frantically starts searching his phone “Max” He didn’t show a reaction.
“Max Emilian Verstappen.” You hissed. His eyes shot up to you “You didn’t. There aren’t any more leaked tapes, AND Vegas 21 was one of the first that went into a USB-Stick” You smiled gently “It will be okay”
He nodded, opening his arms for you. You smiled again and climbed onto his lap, his arms locking around you.
“At least everyone knows who makes you feel so good, mh?” His eyes lock onto yours “Mh..Could say the same for you. You kept whimpering” He chuckled “Cause your a dirty little minx and kept clenching around me”
Your voice lowered “Oh and you didn’t like that?” Max eyes glinted with a hint of lust “I didn’t say that, did I?” You shake your head and place a kiss on his jaw.
“Lifje, jesus. We have a meeting over this.” You chuckled but kept placing wet kisses on his jaw and neck. His hand suddenly grabbed your throat.
“Enough, before you’ll see what happens. You know I don’t like bad girls” He grumbled “And you’re my good girl, right?” You nod, unable to form words “Good. Now let’s go”
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The walk into the paddock the next day was weird to say the least. Even tho you both showed up confidently.
Headline over headline was thrown your way.
-
Enews
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739.540 likes
Enews Even after yesterdays Events, Max Verstappen and Y/n Y/l/n strutted into the paddock. L/n more than Verstappen. He seemed more quiet and intimidated by the loud media and quickly went into his garage. Y/n went over to fans, signed stuff and took pictures with Fans. Once the tape was mentioned she rolled her eyes but laughed a little “Of course it’s not great but there’s nothing I can do now so..Yeah We’re good.I think there could’ve been worse leaked so..” She shrugged and then answered why Max simply slipped into the garage “He’s just annoyed by it so leave Max be a little, yeah?”
user93 NOT GREAT? Maybe not for you but jeez..Mans been hitting it good :o
user29 No wonder the man is always calm, he’s got himself a relief there 😨
user74 can’t get over the fact that he called her ‘good girl’ HOW IS SHE SURVIVING?!
user82 There’s more proof that they’re the hottest couple ever
user26 love how light she’s taking it (the leak not max)
user97 just died at this 😭
user63 man is packing 😃
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After the race, neither you or Max went into the interviews. To exhausted by all the pressure and questions about the tape. Yet you had to because you both got on the podium with Charles.
You were sitting between them, fidgeting with the microphone. Max seemed more relaxed than he did this morning. He looked over to you and nudged your knee with his.
He mouthed ‘You okay?’ You nodded and smiled shortly. Luckily the reporters respected your wish that there were no questions about the tape. Well, until the last reporter started asking about the tape. Before you or Max could say something, Charles spoke up.
“I don’t think this is necessary. They both have been so kind about the prying eyes and questions, kept their calm but it’s enough. This was a complete invasion of their private life and it’s so disrespectful. You wouldn’t want that happening to you either, right? It’s so brave that they actually sat down here, even tho they knew there was a high chance of this happening. This is supposed to be about our cars and performance, not any disgusting invasion of privacy.”
You smiled at Charles and so did Max. He shot you both a smile back and the reporter just went back to his seat.
After you wrapped up and walked to your car with Max, you saw charles walking across the parking lot. You pulled at Max’s shirt “We should say thank you, don’t you think” He nodded “I’ll go” You say and jog over to the Ferrari driver.
“Charles!” He turned around and his tense expression immediately relaxed “Yeah?”
“I-No we wanted to thank you again. It was really kind of you in there” He smiled “No problem. It’s just so unfair for you two. Really sorry that people are like this” You chuckle “As long as you’re not like them” He shook his head and laughed “Absolutely not”
She gave him a quick hug “See you next week” He nodded “Rest well” You smile “You too”
You walked back to your car and sat in the passenger seat “Still glad that it wasn’t Vegas 21 to be honest” Max said while keeping his eyes on the road “Yeah, That would’ve been a bigger scandal than this one.”
Max nodded and laid his hand on your left thigh “Well be alright” You placed your hand on top of his “Yes we will. Especially with you by my side” He chuckled “I love you”
“I love you more”
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I randomly had this idea while making a Lewis edit. Don’t ask how the hell that was connected but here we are.
Do you want a part where you see what happens in Vegas?:0
I didn’t proofread cause it’s like past midnight and I’m way to tired to I apologise for any mistakes 🤧
Vegas Part
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tragedybunny · 9 months
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My Starry Sky - Astarion x F!Reader
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Reader and Astarion have their first real argument and have to go through the aftermath.
“Come to bed early, spend some time with me?” Astarion whispered in your ear, crimson eyes still a bit watery.
There wasn’t any other answer to give. “Of course love,” you took his hand and gave it a soft squeeze, desperate to reassure him after what had happened earlier.
Going into this, you knew how he could be, how he lashed out sometimes, and why. That hadn’t made the first time he directed it at you after your mutual confession any easier. Maybe you had thought finally sharing your feelings would change that part of him, a selfish wish. “Damn it, are you just going to ignore me all day!” He snapped at you on the road, drawing questioning looks from your other companions.
“What?” You’d turned back to him, confusion knitting your brows together.
“You heard me.” Around you, you could sense everyone stepping away, wisely giving the two of you space, despite the fact that you were in a desolate, cursed place. The locale was probably not helping the tension.
“I’m not ignoring you!” The first mistake you made in that conversation, a sharp tone, fire returned.
“So I’m just imagining that you’ve hardly said two words to me for hours but have been more than happy to prattle on with everyone else.” He doubled down, and you could tell he wasn’t going to hear you. “Or you're lying.”
The accusation stung, did he think so little of you? Maybe this was all a mistake. And just like that, all the worries, the struggles, and this blasted place boiled over, and you were the one who lashed out. “This isn’t going to work, we’re not going to work, if you’re going to act like this!” The second mistake.
Eyes going wide, his posture changed in an instant. It was like he tried to make himself smaller, to get away from the pain of your words. “Please no, I’m sorry.” His voice shook and if he had any need of breathing he would have been gasping. “Gods, I’ve already ruined it.” Tears had started to spill down his cheeks.
With horror, you realized what you’d done. You’d threatened him into compliance, even if you had done so out of hurt. Were you no better than Cazador? In a rush, you threw your arms around him pulling him close, frantic to relieve the hurt you’d caused. “No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” After a second of hesitation, you felt his arms encircle you as he sniffled into your hair. "That was wrong of me."
It took a few moments of soft whispers and soothing until he would let you go. "Let's just forget this," you prompted and he readily agreed.
The hurtful words and accusations stuck with you though and you excused yourself as soon as dinner was over. Taking you by the hand, Astarion leads you to his tent, where you'd been sleeping most nights lately. With a soft gasp, you note small enchanted motes of light, dancing at the top of the tent. "Gale's work," you ask, staring at them with enchantment.
"I don't want to know what he's going to ask me in return," he chuckles but it’s strained and struggling.
“At least he’s not looking for magic to eat anymore.” With a quick brush of your lips against his cheek, you lower yourself down to the waiting nest of blankets the two of you spend your nights wrapped around each other in. Your hand still in his pulls him along with you.
An open bottle of wine and two glasses were waiting and you readily take one after he pours it. The two of you sit close enough that shoulders and thighs touch, a small comfort after the harshness of the day, and you lean your head on his shoulder. “I love you, you know that right?” Desperately, you want him to know it, even with all the complications, you sincerely love him.
“I know,” he finishes the glass of wine, and you note that he seems off still. “I love you too,” he pours another and drinks deeply. It was a rough day all around though, and you don’t want to push it.
Moments later you’re surprised as a pale, slender hand reaches down to tilt your chin up off his shoulder and kiss you. The taste of the wine lingers on his lips and you drink in the intimacy of it on your tongue. Your glass is taken from your grasp as the kiss deepens, lips parting invitingly to him. Hands wrap around your waist and your stomach flutters, you’ve missed being touched like this by him. A trail of soft bites is traced from your lips down your neck as his hands work their way under your shirt caressing the sensitive skin of your breasts. Reaching up, you grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as a soft moan escapes you. “My sweet girl,” he murmurs against your throat and your blood runs cold.
That isn’t him, he sounds a thousand miles away, and so empty. “I thought you weren’t ready for this.”
A thumb brushes over a nipple and his teeth dig into your flesh just hard enough to thrill. You swallow the cry you almost make, not wanting to encourage this. “I’ve been thinking it’s time to move on, let go of the past,” his voice tremors and you can tell he’s lying even as he tries to kiss you again.
“Astarion, stop,” gently you push him away and see the panic in his face. “Why are you doing this?”
He looks anywhere but right at you, eyes hazy and unfocused “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Astarion…”
He sighs heavily, breaking down at last. “Well, I thought after today, perhaps you were tiring of me, and that I should do something to win you back. And I can’t seem to get this right either.”
Pain slices through your chest and you feel as though your heart is being torn in two. Carefully, you put your hands on his cheeks. “Look at me,” it’s not a command, but a plea, and he finally brings his eyes to yours. “I love you, and I’m not going to tire of you. Understand?” Wordlessly he nods. “But you are never to try to buy me again with your body, you are worth so much more than that.” A loving kiss on his forehead punctuates your words and you hear him sniffling again.
“I can try, it is so hard to leave behind.” Arms open, you beckon him to you, and you both collapse into the waiting blankets. “It feels like the only thing I know, the only thing I’m good for. And I just want to keep you but I don’t know how else to do it sometimes.”
“Just love me, that’s all I need.” You yearn for nothing but to cover him in soft kisses and hold him forever, so he can know how loved he is, how cherished. “My Starry Sky.”
With his face buried in your neck, he murmurs softly, sounding like his true self again, “my Sunlight.”
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zarameraki · 2 months
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˖°🕷️ ࣪𖤐 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗽-𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗼𝗷𝗶 ˖°🕷️𖤐
: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 unprotected sex 𖥔 step-father x step-daughter 𖥔 porn with plot 𖥔 banter 𖥔 dom daddy and his little girl 𖥔 neck kissing 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 praise 𖥔 bj 𖥔 biting 𖥔 nipple play 𖥔 daddy issues 𖥔 dirty talking 𖥔 small pillow talk 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 smut
: ̗̀➛ words: 4.0k
: ̗̀➛ notes: ok look, i was ovulating and i had to write this for some reason. i even wrote a nanami one (but he's your step-uncle). my mind was in the gutter and i wanted to challenge myself to something super taboo. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.
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Here you were, standing on a worn-out welcome mat, staring at the door of your ex-stepfather’s house.
It’s surreal.
A month ago, when your mom dropped the bomb about their divorce, you felt like your world was crumbling. Part of you felt relieved, like you could finally breathe without suffocating under their constant tension. And the other part? Well, it felt like a piece of you was being ripped away.
Last week, when the papers were finalized, making it official that they were done, you locked yourself in your room. The silence was deafening, and you couldn’t shake off that nagging feeling of missing him. Missing Toji. It’s ridiculous, right? He’s not your step dad anymore. He’s just some guy now. Too old, too wrong, too different.
You should just turn around and leave, forget about all this.
But you couldn’t.
Not today.
Not when you’re clutching your hard-earned bachelor’s degree, wearing a stupid graduation gown that felt like a costume. He didn’t bother showing up for your biggest achievement, just like your mother. She was always occupied with her own life to care about you. You were just an accident, a spill on her pile of kitchen table bills. 
Toji, though, he was different. He actually paid attention, listened to you, cared about what you had to say. Maybe you’re being stupid for wanting to talk to him, to pour out everything that’s been eating you up for months. But you needed to do this, for yourself, even if it meant facing the reality that he’s not part of your life anymore.
So, you’d driven straight to his residence building, skipping the after parties with your friends. You were twenty-two for fuck’s sake. If you wanted to spend the night celebrating with your step-dad, then that’s exactly what you were going to do. 
Enough was enough. 
Your trembling finger hovered over the doorbell, each second feeling like an eternity. The sharp pricks of anxiety danced on your palms, and the weight on your shoulders threatened to crush you. But you couldn’t turn back now.
The ache in your chest demanded resolution, an answer to the haunting question that had plagued you since your mother first brought him into your life: Do I want to fuck my step-dad? 
Yes. Yes, you very much did. 
The clicks of the lock rattled and the door knob twisted clockwise. 
Toji stood in the doorway, his presence dominating the space as if he had devoured the entire door frame. His twelve abdomen muscles rippled, stark against his skin. Jet-black hair clung wetly to his forehead, partially obscuring his eyes. With sweatpants slung low on his hips, a tantalizing trail of hair led downward, drawing attention to the area you often found yourself fantasizing about.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered under his breath, realization dawning. “It was today, wasn’t it?”
“You’re such an ass,” you spat out, your body trembling with a mix of emotions—his forgetfulness, his proximity to you, the sheer presence of him. But at this moment, all your focus was on the pain of him abandoning you after promising he’d be there. “I was completely alone, Toji. Do you even understand how embarrassing it was to stand there by myself while everyone else had their families?”
“Sweetheart—”
“No. No, you don’t get to call me that. You don’t—You made me a promise, Toji. You swore you’d be there for me.”
“I know,” he murmured, running his hand down his face. “I’m sorry, kid. Come here.” He grasped your wrist and drew you towards him, enveloping you in a tight embrace. His strong arms wrapped around your body, reminiscent of the times he used to challenge you by having you sit on his back during push-ups to prove you wrong about being too heavy for him. “Better?”
“No,” you grumbled, resting your cheek against his chest. He had the scent of spruce and cigarettes that you found strangely comforting. What you wouldn’t do to sleep on his chest for hours, days and weeks. “Toji, I . . . I want to talk to you about something.” 
“What is it?” he asked, stepping back. 
“Can we sit down first?” 
He grinned. “Of course, baby.” 
With a shy smile of your own, you took his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch as he led you towards the plush couch at the center of the room. Memories of previous visits with your mother flashed briefly in your mind, but they were quickly replaced by the present moment.
The apartment’s decor was simple yet masculine, with red-brick walls lending a rustic charm. A mounted television, a large couch, and a hanging boxing bag added character to the space. The kitchen, though small, was designed in an L-shape, showcasing Toji’s dedication to fitness with his assortment of protein powders and supplements neatly arranged.
As you both settled onto the couch, Toji relaxed back, spreading out his legs and placing his arms on the backrest. His gaze lingered on you as you gracefully removed your graduation gown and placed your degree on his coffee table. 
“Your mother allowed you to wear that?” His thumb traced the curve of his lower lip as his gaze roamed shamelessly over you.
The gown you had on was a sleek, satin creation with a daring thigh-high slit. Its fabric was delicate, featuring thin straps and a plunging cleavage that barely contained your breasts. It was no secret that you had chosen it with Toji in mind, especially since your mother had been “too busy” to accompany you on your shopping trip.
“She doesn’t control my wardrobe,” you replied, your voice laced with confidence as you settled beside him. One leg tucked beneath you, the other languidly extended, the slit in your dress showcasing the smoothness of your skin. Toji’s gaze followed the line of exposed flesh before meeting your eyes. “Besides, you shouldn’t be the one to talk.” 
His smirk widened when you pointed out his lack of a shirt. “My house, my rules.”
You changed the subject. “Care to explain why you missed my graduation?”
“Work,” he replied shortly.
“Is that so?”
“I got a last-minute call for a match. The prize money was going to cover the next three months’ rent.” Toji was a professional MMA fighter. You had once attended one of his matches for ten minutes before almost passing out from witnessing how brutally he defeated his opponent. His persona in the ring was a juxtaposition to the sarcastic yet caring man he was at home with you.
“Did you win?” you asked, absently twirling the bracelet he had given you for your twenty-first birthday.
“Yeah,” he replied, his tone carrying a hint of pride. “I won.”
“Good.” You lifted your gaze to meet his, only to find his eyes fixed on you. “Do you miss home?”
“I am home.”
“You know what I mean.”
He took a deep breath, gazing at the blank television screen. Tilting his head back towards you, he wore a lopsided grin. “I miss you. Does that count?”
Your insides turned to jelly at his words, but you refused to let yourself falter, refusing to become the shy, sweet girl you once were, despite the depraved and forbidden reel playing in your mind. 
You missed watching television with your head on his lap. You missed cooking together. You missed doing the dishes afterward. You missed joining him on walks and runs just to spend a little extra time together. You missed dragging him to malls with you and trying on clothes, posing as sexily as you could, but obviously, he didn’t understand the signals. He never did. Even if you’d spend more time with him than your own mother. 
Silence ensued around you, only the subtle sounds of your choppy breaths and his composed ones were heard. 
“Why are you here, kid?” Toji’s gruff voice cut through the air.
“To see you.” 
“Why are you here?” 
You held your breath tightly in your chest. “I wanted to talk.” 
“About?” He was quick with the question, as if he knew what you were about to say, but wanted to hear it from your lips. Lips that he couldn’t pull his eyes away from. “Talk to me.” 
“I—” You felt a knot form in your throat. “I wanted to check up—”
“Bullshit.” 
Yeah, bullshit. 
What were you scared of? This was the man who cut up fruits for you when you were mentally deprived from crunching for your exams. This was the man who put a blanket on you if you fell asleep reading, even giving a kiss to your crown. This was the man who treated you like you were his own daughter, when in reality, you never were. And he never outwardly called you his daughter, either. You didn’t know why you never saw him as a father figure, but rather, you called him a friend. A really good friend. A friend you’d fallen stupidly in love with over the course of six months. 
Toji snapped his fingers in front of your face. You blinked out of the whirlpool of your thoughts. “Where’d you go?” 
“To you.” 
He lifted a brow. “To me?” 
Now or never, Y/N. Now or fucking never. 
You knelt down and moved closer, settling yourself onto his lap. His eyes widened momentarily at your boldness. “Toji, I like you. Hell, I love you. I love every version of the man you’ve been in my life. I know—I know you love me, too. Probably not in the way I want you to, but a girl can hope.” Your words were directed at the dog tag hanging from his neck as you gently placed your hands on his chest. “I did come here to scold you for not attending my graduation, but I also wanted to . . . I wanted to be with you. In more ways than one.” 
“You don’t know what you’re talk—”
“I do,” you stated firmly. Your lashes lifted and found his narrowed scrutiny. Unconsciously, his hands rested on your waist, molding to your curves. “I’ve known for a while now. It didn’t click in until you moved out. I swear Toji, it was like I couldn’t breathe without you.” 
“Baby . . . ” 
“I want you,” you confessed in a hushed tone, your fingers tracing the lines of his broad shoulders, then up to the sturdy column of his neck where his pulsing veins hinted at his emotions. “I know I seem desperate, but I don’t care. You’re not hers anymore. You were never hers.” 
“Y/N—”
“Please, Toji. Please, just touch me.” You tilted your head to plant a tender kiss on the sharp angle of his jawline. His faint stubble grazed against your lips as you continued to pepper kisses, stopping just short of his mouth. “Forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest, they say.”
Toji tightly shut his eyes and took slow breaths through his nose, his inner turmoil evident in the way his head moved back and forth. Your lips traced gentle paths around his face, savoring the closeness and the rush of emotions it brought. Even if he rejected you, you would find solace in knowing you had expressed your love for the man who was once your stepfather. This night might mark the end of your time together, but it also freed you from the burden of hiding your feelings.. 
“Baby,” Toji whispered, gently caressing your cheek as he drew you closer. “You sure you want this?” 
“Yes.” 
“You know how risky this is, kid. We can’t just ignore the consequences.” 
“I know, Toji.” You leaned closer, your breath mingling with his. “But I can’t ignore how I feel about you either. I want this. I want you. I want all of you. You can do whatever you want to me. I promise I can take it.” 
Toji licked his lips and ran his fingers through his hair. “Fuck. Okay. Your mom—”
“She won’t know. I’m planning on moving out soon.” You dragged your hand up and down his soft, bare chest. “I should’ve moved out with you.” 
Toji took your hand in his and pressed a tender kiss to the center of your palm. “I don’t think I have any condoms on me.” 
“I’m on the pill.” 
His eyes narrowed on you. “You’ve been fucking around? Does your mom know?” 
“Hey, I had to have a little fun. Gain a little experience for this inevitable night.” Your infectious smile rubbed off on him and he enveloped you in his arms. 
“I fuck hard.” 
“Good.” 
“Last chance.” 
“Nope.” 
Toji rose on his feet, supporting your bottom with his hands as he took you to his bedroom. He laid you down on his bed, the soft mattress absorbing the weight with a slight bounce. “Fucking knew you had a little crush on me.” He clambered onto your body and held your jaw with his hand. “Tell me, sweetheart, did you touch yourself thinking of me?” 
“Every single night. Whether it’s in the shower or my bedroom,” you replied, feigning a pout and raising your hand. “I’m starting to think I’ve developed carpal tunnel from all of it.”
Toji laughed, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face with his calloused fingers. But as his laughter faded into a knowing smirk, his next words sent a jolt through you, leaving your legs weak and your heart racing. “Yeah. Me, too.” 
“Really?” 
He answered by colliding his lips against yours. It was a brutal kiss. Pain and pleasure mingled together in a heated embrace. His tongue shoved deep into your mouth, exploring the source of your daring words. 
Pulling away momentarily, he squeezed your cheeks and sucked on your tongue like it was a delicious treat. “Gonna spit in your mouth.” 
“Mm-hmm.” 
Toji’s cheeks sucked in as he gathered his spit and spat it right onto your tongue. “Swallow.” 
You did, moaning as his warm saliva traveled down your throat. “You taste minty.”
“I was just about to crash before your demanding ass showed up,” he teased.
“Well, you should thank me then.” You planted a quick kiss on his nose.
Toji leaned in and kissed you deeply, tugging on your bottom lip and trailing his moist lips down to your neck. “You smell so good, baby.” 
“I’m wearing the perfume you bought me.” 
“You better fucking be. Do you know how much I get off on spoiling you?” His teeth bit your delicate flesh and pulled, making you whimper from the stinging pain. He sucked and bit on different areas of your neck, marking you with his love bites. He then helped you out of the dress and pressed you back on the mattress. “Knew you weren’t wearing a bra.” 
“No,” you said sarcastically. 
“Yeah,” he said, missing the teasing in your voice, “your nipples were in my face when we were talking.” He rounded his tongue around your areola. Gathering your breasts in both hands, Toji switched between suckling at your nipples, biting the sensitive bud that sent jerks in your body, and licking the burning pain. “I saw you undressing once. You know that?” 
You lifted a brow. “Uh, when?” And why didn't he do anything about it?
“You left your bedroom a bit open. I came to call you for dinner and instead feasted on the sight of your perky ass and these sexy tits.” He left your nipples numb and discolored from his teeth’s abuse. “You think you’re the only one who got off in that house? No, baby. Not at all. I was in the room right next to you, jerking off to your voice, or your smell.” This time, he kissed you gently and then each of your shoulders. “I had it worse. I had it so much worse.” 
“Toji . . . ”
“But you’re here now, and so am I. I’m not fucking leaving. You got that? You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.” 
“Yours,” you whispered. “God, Toji, I’m yours. I’m yours.” 
Toji removed his sweatpants and boxers, giving you a glorious display of his long, thick cock, corded with veins, sprouted up and proud. You had him like that, and so you gave yourself a mental pat on the back. “Like what you see?” 
“Yes,” you said, chuckling in disbelief at the anatomy of him. A surge of confidence washed over you. You slipped off your panties and spread out your legs, shaking your hair back from your face. “Like what you see?” 
Toji gleamed at the wetness pooled between your legs, soaking his sheets underneath, sticky and hot. Something feral rattled inside him. He gripped your knees and pried them farther apart, sinking in between. 
“Oh, fuck, fuck! Toji—ah!” Your back arched in ecstasy, fingers gripping his scalp as he ruthlessly ate you out. His large palm held your hips in place, nibbling and sucking at your quivering, swollen clit. “Toji, yes, yes, fuck. Right there. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” 
You grinded against him with full power, pushing your pussy closer to his mouth. He drank your leaking juices, drove his skilled tongue into your tight entrance, and discovered the sweet, cry-worthy spots inside you.
Soon, he replaced his tongue with three fingers, plunging them deep inside you with a rough and unrelenting pace that sent shivers down your spine. His deep growls were the icing on top. 
Tears streamed down your cheeks as the bed creaked beneath you. He was exorcising your damn soul out of your body with his holy tongue and his blessed fingers.
“Ah!” You came down like a fucking waterfall and Toji stood with an open mouth, drinking in your essence, lapping at your cunt like a starved dog, cleaning you as best as he could. 
You gasped for air, clutching your chest as you coughed or laughed or wheezed—hard to tell which. You felt weightless, incredibly sore, teetering on the edge of passing out.
“Toji . . . am I dead?”
His laughter echoed nearby, then drew nearer until his face came into focus through your haze. “Your pussy tastes just as delicious as your mouth, baby.” 
He kissed you and gave you a hint of your release. Toji was a moaner—a loud one—as he sucked on your tongue, pulling it into his mouth. Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull as he spit onto your tongue again, and ran his own coarse one over your palette.
You closed your mouth and pushed him back by his shoulders. “Let me touch you.” 
“Yeah? You want to suck me off, too?” 
“Yes, fuck. Please, Toji. Please let me suck your cock.” Your begging made him grunt as he got up on his knees. He moved closer, placing them firmly beside your hips. You sat up against the headboard, gripping his warm, aroused cock, while he entwined your hair around his hand, gaining control over your movements.
You looked up at his smirk and kissed his moist tip, savoring the salty taste. Goosebumps formed on your skin at the idea of taking him deeper into your mouth. It would definitely challenge your gag reflex, but if this was going to be a regular thing, you needed to practice.
“Part your lips for me, kid. Nice and wide. That’s it.”
“Yes, Daddy.” You winked at Toji’s alarmed expression. Oh, how you loved catching him off-guard by acting out of character. “You got a daddy kink, Toji?” You brushed your lips from the base to the head, swirling your tongue around the rim. “Since you love calling me kid, maybe I should start calling you daddy. Isn’t that what you were?” 
“You got a dirty mouth on you, kid.” 
“Learned it from my daddy.”  
Toji hissed through his teeth as you nibbled his tip. “Not dirty enough.” He gripped his length and forced it past your lips. Your nails plunged into his hips, gagging and shaking as he sunk past your uvula. “About time I fucked your smartass mouth with my cock, baby. Be a good girl and don’t tap out until I’ve come down your throat.” 
You closed your eyes briefly, gathering your resolve before meeting his gaze again with a playful glint. You weren’t entirely sure where this was going, but you were determined not to back down now. So, with a mischievous wink, you silently accepted the challenge.
Toji thrusted his hips back and forth, shoving his girth in and out without giving you space to breathe.
“That’s it, baby. That’s it. Fuck, you’re so good at sucking your daddy’s cock,” he groaned, his hands gently gripping your hair or caressing your cheek in a way that contrasted sharply with his dominant actions.
“My pretty whore.”
Thrust.
“My gorgeous girl.” 
Thrust.
“You belong to me, baby.” 
Thrust, thrust, thrust. 
He was a complete monster with you. 
Your face pressed against his pelvis, the brush of his happy trail tickling your nose. You knew from experience that most men came quicker if you fondled their balls. You squeezed his heavy, swollen sacs, making him hiss and violate your throat.
Toji couldn’t hold back. His release came with a roar, numbing your scalp from how tightly he was pulling on it. The thin ropes of his release and your saliva formed as he pulled out. You swallowed whatever was left around your mouth. To please him further, as if assaulting your throat wasn’t enough, you lapped at his tip like a devoted kitten. “You’re so good to me, baby.” 
That’s all you wanted to hear. 
“Turn around,” he commanded, and without hesitation, you dropped to your knees, arching your back to present yourself to him. “What a sight.” His hand glided over your left ass cheek tenderly before delivering a firm smack that made you jolt forward. Toji mirrored the action on your right cheek, preparing you while coating the tip of his cock with slickness from your own arousal. “Gonna put it in now, sweetheart.” 
“Finally, Jesus.” 
Toji spanked your ass which only elicited a giggle out of you. “Let’s see if you’ll be laughing soon, baby.” 
He pushed into you in one-quick go. 
You cried out and grabbed the top of the headboard with your sweaty palms. He pulled out just to the hilt then drove back in. The air smelled like your sweat and perfume and sex. Every nerve in your body was alive, your heart pounding fiercely as if trying to escape your chest. Your face flushed with heat, your blood singing with desire.
You moaned and cried and screamed his name, driving him to complete madness with the word “Daddy.” You begged him to go faster, push harder, to have you sore for weeks so you didn’t have to get out of his bed, out of his arms, out of his home. You wanted this to be your home. 
Toji spanked your ass repeatedly, skin slapping against skin, palming the back of your head so that your face was crushed on his pillow. It smelled like firewood. Smelled like him. You wanted to steal it, take it home, sleep with it, ride it while whispering his name. 
You both came together. 
Toji’s hot seed filled your stretched hole. He withdrew slowly, a teasing sensation that left you craving more. With deft fingers, he ensured not a drop was wasted. 
You collapsed onto your stomach, catching your breath before summoning the strength to turn and face him.
He exhaled heavily, laying beside you “Fuck, that was . . .” 
“Yeah.” 
“Oh, yeah.” 
“Best yeah.” You draped yourself onto his chest and kissed his chin. He massaged his fingers through your throbbing scalp, the other hand caressing your numb, bruised ass. 
Toji twirled a strand of your hair around his finger. “Does this make-up for missing your graduation?” 
You flicked his forehead. “I haven’t forgiven you for that.” 
“Maybe I should miss more of your events if this is the reward I’m gonna get.” 
You scowled. “I dare you to repeat that again.” 
Toji ironed out your scowl with his thumb. You kissed the pad of his rough finger, twice. “My cards are on the table for you, sweetheart.” 
Your lips met his, whispering, “I folded a while ago, Daddy.” 
“Fuck,” he breathed out. With a swift motion, he flipped you onto your back, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Round two, kid.” 
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colourstreakgryffin · 3 months
Note
Oh my gosh! HELLOO!
Anywho~
I had a request for Alastor with a reader who’s contract with Valentino just ended and Angel brings them to the hotel to help them get on their feet, they have lots of trauma from what the endured, maybe they stay close to Alastor because he’s very much a gentleman and never treats them like Val did?
Thank you!!
Oooh! I like this one a lot! We got a second Angel but unlike Angel, we’re probably better and less snarky and bitchy. Sorry, Angel. Anyway! Idk if it’s meant to be romantic or not so I am gonna guess—
Alastor- Redemption Path
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Alastor can’t help but feel sorry and feel pity for you. You’re just like Angel but you aren’t as bad as Angel. A ex-pornstar that has finally been free from the pimp Overlord, Valentino and your dear friend Angel Dust is so relieved that you’re safe from him, now, he’ll take even more measures to make sure you’ll do better than him
Bringing you to the Hazbin Hotel, Angel Dust introduced you to the Hotel Staff. Hoping they could help get you back into Hell more stably. Out of Charlie feeling immense sorry for your sexual abuse trauma, Vaggie considering to sign you up for counselling and Angel Dust barking at Husk to be nicer to you. Alastor is the one who is the most interested in you
Alastor is the one who escorted you around the Hotel. He is the only one who treated you so perfectly, he is a true sweet gentleman and he is doing much for you that it’s unbelievable. He doesn’t want anything from you? How is that possible
Throughout the days since you first checked in as a client, Alastor notices the way you follow him around and he finds it adorable. You’re such a lost lonely little puppy needing somewhere to feel safer and he doesn’t mind playing that little safety spot for you. It’s quite amusing
“Oh. My dear, is something bugging you?” Alastor asked curiously as he finally turns around to face the cute eager shorter sinner that has been clinging onto him and following him around ever since he was polite and ‘respectful’ to them. Treating them like a person and not like an object. Unlike the first and only Overlord they knew at the time, he doesn’t even notice their curvy attractive body or make creepy sexual remarks in the slightest
He just compliments the cozy colourful classy outfits they’d wear, calling each and every one ‘adorable’. He finds you adorable as a whole and he is entertained that you’re so enamoured by his kindness, that you act like a baby fawn following his mother around
The sinner that has been following him around all day, takes a few seconds to even blink. You’re shyer around Alastor since he actually gives you a voice and a say-so, something you’re unfamiliar with. Having that… you never did back with Valentino and it’s almost overwhelming that such a friendly treatment is addictive to have, the way he handles you with delicacy. He isn’t usually a man to sympathise with an awful situation but for some reason, he sympathised with you in his own special little way. You’re thankful that he is even more polite and caring than anybody you’ve ever met, even Angel!
“Oh. My, you’re shivering. Are you cold?” You didn’t actually answer Alastor with words but instead with actions, approaching him and shyly reaching out for a handhold but you didn’t actually touch him, reminding yourself of his no touching clause. You hoped he’d let you slide this once. You don’t really have anybody to talk to after you were jolted awake from night terrors over what that awful squeaking sex-obsessed freak of a moth did to you throughout your contract with him
Angel is there as a friend but he’s busy still suffering under Valentino’s maniac rule right now, you don’t want to bother any of the staff nor Charlie about your problems whilst they are busy. Sooooo
You figured your emotional support, the one who has been very patient and understanding with you. He hasn’t let you down once just of yet
Alastor willingly takes your hand when he recognises your reach out attempt and brings you up to his side in a lone but strong tug. Not minding the sweater you wore being your only coverage for your bottom half. Just a cute off-the-shoulder sweater and thigh highs. Whilst your style mirrored Angel’s in an odd way, you didn’t gross the Radio Demon out like the current top pornstar did. You’re more innocent, more sophisticated
You’re nothing like Angel, despite escaping from the same ugly world as that spider sinner is still trapped in. You’re a recovering traumatised, overexploited pornstar in need of help to gain a new life within Hell and Alastor actually likes the idea of playing that knight in shining armour you clearly view him as. He can’t tell why but he likes it
Leading you down the empty, slightly dark hallway with one arm around your body to keep you close, pressing your face against the side edge of his broad chest and the other slightly stylishly twirling his signature staff-like microphone cane, the Radio Host plans to take care of you in other ways then just hand you some blankets and set you out to your own Hotel room. He’d prefer to personally put you to sleep and the process would be begin with a picture show, a talk and a darker warmer room
You didn’t know why but your face was beet red, your heart was pounding in your chest and your eyes sparkled as you tilted your slightly fuzzy head up to look at Alastor. In, what felt like a blink, his crimson red eyes flashed a sense of genuine affection before returning to the usual half-emotionless bloody haze as the radio effect on his rather mighty voice kicks in with the overlap of both sincerely caring and classic semi-mocking Alastor style caring
It doesn’t help that you swear you can feel his heartbeat grow faster…
Is Alastor feeling the same you are?!
“Come now, darling. You’re clearly having bad sleeping patterns. How about me and you watch that picture show you’ve been holding off? Yes. Yes, I know. I don’t like your technology but I wouldn’t be a help provider if I didn’t provide you help, now would I?”
1K notes · View notes
jobean12-blog · 4 months
Text
Had to be You
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (enemies to lovers ish)
Word Count: 2,270
Summary: You and Bucky have been going at each other for months. He's grumpy and defensive. You're sassy and frustrated. Steve's had enough. So when Steve steps in to do something will it work? Or will it makes things worse?
Author's Note: At this point all I want is for Bucky to kiss me senseless for the rest of my life (and do everything else) but really. Kisses. Yes please. Anyway. Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰
Warnings: some light mead comsumption, angsty ex talk, tension but softness, happy ending
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“STEVEN GRANT ROGERS! You get back here right now and open this door before I kick your ass!”
Steve’s chuckle only makes you angrier. “I’ll open it when you two make nice.”
“STEVE!” you screech.
His retreating footsteps have you banging your forehead into the thick metal of the door, muttering curses under your breath.
“Please tell me Stark has some hidden exit in here somewhere?” you sigh.
“I’m going to kill Steve.”
When Bucky’s speaks his first words since you got locked in the gym together you spin to face him, eyes hard.
“Get in line Barnes!”
“Hey, look at that kids, you’re agreeing already!” Steve’s voice rings out from down the hall.
With that last remark everything goes silent other than your frustrated huffs.
“Is this actually happening?” you whine. “Can’t you just break the door down?”
Bucky’s blue eyes stare blankly and you grow more agitated.
“Why the hell did he do this?”
You glare back in his direction, hands on your hips. “Because of your sunshine and rainbows attitude toward me!”
You spit out the words, letting them drip with sarcasm.
“MY attitude?” Bucky grits out as he sticks a finger in his chest. “Doll face. I’ve been nothing but a perfect gentleman to you.” That same finger spins to point at you now.
You face him fully and take a step closer.
“Grunts do not equal a greeting and barely answering questions and barely making conversation definitely does not show your gentlemanly side!”
Bucky opens his mouth to retort but you continue on. “And what about avoiding me all together!? What the fuck is that about?”
He runs his large hand through his hair and squeezes the back of his neck, setting his lips in a hard line.
“Fuck. Please tell me there’s still some of Thor’s mead in here,” he mutters.
“Why the hell would he leave alcohol in the gym?” you ask, your brows nearly hitting your hairline.
With a shrug Bucky starts moving about and searching under things. “He likes to ‘get drunk’” and he makes air quotes as he says it, “and then show us how he can still lift heavier weights.”
You can’t help the laughter that boils up and over but you quickly cover your mouth when Bucky gives you an unamused look.
“Here it is!” he chimes, seeming far too relieved.
You move toward him as you watch him take a swig from the bottle, the muscles in his neck shifting with every swallow.
“Save some for me,” you say quietly and hold out your hand.
He smirks.
“Careful doll. Too much of this and I’ll have to carry you out of here.”
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As more of the mead circulates through your body you start to relax marginally, thoughts of killing Steve slowly fading.
Bucky has been sure to keep your consumption under control and other than feeling less murderous and calmer you’re lucid.
“So,” you muse. “It doesn’t look like Steve is coming back any time soon. And we’ve been quiet. No yelling or fighting.”
Bucky simply grunts in agreement.
“SEE!” you nearly shout. “That’s exactly what I mean. I say something and your answer is a grunt…WHAT. THE. FUCK!”
While waiting for his explanation you notice a slight pink flush to his cheeks and you find it hard not to throw him a triumphant smile.
Deciding to let him off the hook for now, you ask, “how long have you known your best friend is insane?”
To your surprise, Bucky laughs. A real laugh that has his eyes crinkling and his nose scrunching up.
You try not to stare too long but you find it difficult to look away.
“Are you drunk Barnes?”
His eyes meet yours and the corner of his mouth twitches with a boyish smile.
“You’re full of questions tonight doll. And for the record it takes a lot more than this to get me drunk,” he admits as his smile widens.
He shifts in his spot on the floor, his long legs now stretched out in front of him and you can’t help but focus on his thighs and the way his jeans pull tightly over the thick muscle.
“Who knew all we needed was a little alcohol to not fight.”
You chuckle and hold your hand out for the more.
He shakes his head no and places the bottle down on the floor before leaning forward.
“I don’t want to fight with you. Ever.”
At his admission, your expression hardens.
“Then why are you so….so… unfriendly?” you ask.
“Why are you always so sassy?” he shoots back. “Seems to me like you’re the one always looking for a fight.”
His answer makes you sigh.
“I don’t see you doing that to Barton or Steve…hell anyone else!” he adds.
He waits patiently, his eyes trained on you and his body straining forward.
With more nonchalance than you feel, you confess, “you’re kind of my type. And my dating track record sucks. So…you know…”
You motion to him. All of him. His long legs, broad shoulders, hard chest, sculpted arms and his perfectly handsome face.
Stunned, Bucky stares for a second too long and too fiercely.
Heat starts to tickle your skin as you feel your body react to his focused attention.
“Are you…” he starts, before clearing his throat. “Are you telling me that you’re attracted to me and that’s why you hate me?”
The tension is thick, stretching between you for many long seconds before you wrench your eyes away and look down at your hands.
“I don’t hate you.”
Your words are quiet and the next sentence that passes your lips is even softer. “I just have a hard time trusting men.”
When he doesn’t say anything you look up at him and see the hurt etched across his features.
“Are you sure it’s not just me you don’t trust?”
At his question, the realization of what he’s implying hits you and you immediately slide closer to him and reach your hands toward him.
“No Bucky. That’s not it at all. In fact I trust you with my life…just not necessarily my heart.”
When he continues to study you, his features softening, but doesn’t speak, you add. “It’s not your fault. Really.”
“I want to know why.”
“Why what?” you ask.
“Why you don’t trust men.”
His jaw is tight and his fists are clenched in his lap.
He’s clearly distraught over the fact that you’ve been hurt and you’re sure he’s thinking the worst. It melts you more and you want to reach out and trace the hard line of his jaw to reassure him.
“It’s not anything that bad. I’ve just been hurt. A lot. And not just in romantic relationships. Friendships too.”
He scowls. “In what ways?”
You shrug like it’s nothing.
“What is there to say? The first real relationship I was in ended when he found something better. He told me when we broke up, ‘why would I say with you when I can do better’.”
“That motherfucker,” Bucky fumes as he opens and closes his metal fist, the whirring metal sounds momentarily distracting you.
“Yeah. But that wasn’t the last. My boyfriend after that I found out was sleeping with my friend. Or I thought she was my friend.”
“Fucking hell. Please tell me you’re kidding.”
He stands slowly, visibly agitated.
“And we haven’t even gotten to my last boyfriend yet. Better sit back down.”
“I’m too fucking pissed off to sit,” he growls.
“Honestly, it’s more my fault. I knew I shouldn’t have dated him. He was just like the rest and when my friend sent me a video of the two of them fucking I was hardly surprised.”
You couldn’t look at Bucky anymore and you dropped your eyes.
“Guess I’m just not good enough to stick around for.”
“Fuck,” he exhaled. “Doll.”
He sat down in front of you, forcing your attention back to him.
“Please don’t tell me you really believe that.”
You give him an exasperated look. “After being dumped three times you kind of start to believe it.”
Suddenly, he kicks at one of the weight machines, making the metal creak and bend then he falls to his knees in front of you and takes your hands in his.
The smell of him surrounds you and you have no where to look but into his eyes.
“These men,” and he spits out the last word. “Fuck that, they aren’t men. These pieces of shit have no idea what a gift you are and they don’t deserve you. They deserve a fucking beating.”
“Bucky.”
You squeeze his hands. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” he counters. “Tell you the truth? Tell you that you’re gorgeous, sexy, smart, and kind.”
His eyes drop to your mouth and he licks his lips.
“Hardly kind,” you scoff. “Look how poorly I treated you.”
He reluctantly drags his eyes from your mouth and determination hardens his gaze.
“Nah doll face. I get it now. And honestly, a lot of that is on me. I couldn’t understand why someone as perfect as you wanted anything to do with me. I put up my defensives the only way I know how.”
You whisper his name hoarsely and run your thumb along his jawline.
His eyelashes flutter against his cheeks and he exhales.
Even if you wanted to you couldn’t stop the way your body moved closer to his and when he slides his hand up your arm and around the back of your neck your lips part in a gasp.
Just as you feel his warm breath tickle your skin the lock on the door turns and Steve calls your names.
You quickly pull away with wide eyes, shooting one last look at Bucky before you lift your eyes to Steve.
He stares between the two of you and then at the half empty bottle of mead.
“What…?”
“Nothing,” you and Bucky say at the same time.
Bucky jumps to his feet and holds his hand out for you.
You take it and let him pull you up and into his body. Your chest brushes his with your every breath and you’re right back where you were just seconds ago…under his spell.
It only takes a moment for your past hurt to flood back and wash away the desire you’re feeling and in the next breath you’re mumbling goodbyes and rushing off.
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When Bucky finally finds you the next day the apology you’ve been wanting to give him spills out.
“I just want to say that I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting.”
He takes a step closer to you, crowding you against the door of your room.
“I really appreciate that doll, but I should be the one apologizing to you. I’m sorry. For everything.”
“Thank you.”
It’s all you can manage to say with him so close to you.
You can feel your pulse jump and when you hear the moving metal plates in his arm you look down at his hands to see them clenched into fists at his sides.
“Bucky?” you ask.
“I’m having a really hard time not touching you,” he explains in a pained whisper.
“Oh,” you breathe out.
He closes the space between you and your back hits the door. He slowly lifts his hand, caressing your cheek with his thumb and then slowly sliding his fingers down to stroke your neck.
The gentle dominance in his touch sets you on fire and you lean into him.
“I’m scared of getting hurt Bucky.”
The words tumble out and you start to drop your gaze but he stops you with the press of his fingers under your chin.
His eyes harden and he doesn’t speak.
You whisper his name, your voice shaky.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m just talking myself out of hunting every one of your exes down and skinning them alive.”
His voice grows with anger and you press a soft hand to his hard chest.
“They aren’t worth it.”
“You’re worth it.”
Taken aback by the intensity of his words you stare into his eyes, their blue color filled with longing and fierceness.
“Fuck doll. You have no idea how fucking gorgeous you are, do you? I can hardly catch my breath.”
Your hand shoots to your mouth and you quietly inhale, nibbling your bottom lip to stop the smile that wants to break out across your face.
“Do you want me to go?” he asks.
You drop your hand from your lips and reach for him. “No.”
He tilts his head and inches closer, his mouth lightly brushing yours.
Your fists clench the front of his Henley and your eyes close at the light press of his lips. You stay like that, trying to remember to breathe.
He pulls away only enough to stare at your mouth and then traces his thumb across your upper lip.
“What is it?” you ask with a worried tone.
His thumb falls to your lower lip and he gives it the same attention, savoring the softness.
“Why won’t you kiss me?”
He drops his hand from your lips and as his fingers fall they trace the outline of your neck before his hand wraps around the back of it and he brings you impossibly closer.
“I’m worried that once I start…” he breathes against your lips. “I won’t be able to stop.”
When he presses his lips to yours he groans low in the back of his throat, his hands desperate to get you closer.
The way you taste, the feel of your lips, your gasps and moans…he can’t stop.
He can’t stop.
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