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#i know this is so nothing but let me have this
poorly-drawn-mdzs · 3 days
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Siffrin plays Disco Elysium AU: Featuring backseat gamer Loop.
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soaps-mohawk · 3 days
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 18: Don't Let Me Go
Summary: Things have gone wrong in your pack's absence. Can they make it back in time before irreparable damage is done? Can they fix the damage that's already been dealt?
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 10,232...oops
Warnings: ANGST, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, ANGST, anxiety, fear, panic attacks, very descriptive scenes of panic and anxiety, very heavy emotionally in the beginning, major invasions of privacy, hurt/sort of comfort, very brief mention of violence and death, and most importantly: fluff
A/N: Yeah, so this one kind of got away from me. It's definitely one of my favorite chapters now, and it's definitely the longest so far. It's pretty heavy, so plan something fun afterwards because it will hurt. I tried to catch all the possible triggers, but of course, if I miss one let me know. I promise things will begin to take a turn for the happier after this, at least for a bit. Picks up pretty much right where chapter 17 left off.
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You’re shaking. Your breaths are coming in gasps as you stare at your open door. There’s no scent in the air, nothing that would give you a hint of who invaded your space, or if they’re still in there. You should leave, barricade yourself somewhere and call Dr. Keller, or even Kate. 
What could they do, though? Your pack won’t be home until tomorrow at the earliest. 
No one can help you. 
You slowly push your door open, ready to run in case someone is hiding inside. You stand in the doorway, scanning the small space, but there’s no sign of anyone. There’s still no scent either, just your own mingled with the slight chemical burn of scent blockers. Your eyes scan the room, looking for anything that might be new, anything that might be missing, anything that might be slightly out of place. 
The clothes on the floor are slightly rumpled, but you’re not sure if you did that in your haste to pull on shoes before you left, or if they’ve been that way since the knock sounded on your door. You lift your gaze to the ceiling, scanning it and that’s when you notice it. The cover over the vent is slightly out of place. You likely wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t been paying attention, if you hadn’t looked. 
The thought sends a chill running down your spine. 
You keep your eyes on the vent as you grab your desk chair, kicking clothes out of the way as you move it under the vent. You stand on the chair, reaching for the vent, but it’s not quite enough. You shove the chair to the side, taking everything off your desk before you pull it under the vent. You climb up on shaky legs, your heart thudding in your chest as you remove the vent cover. 
Nausea twists at your stomach as your breath leaves you in a sharp gasp. There, strategically placed between two of the gaps in the vent cover, is a camera. It’s small, and would have been invisible just staring at the vent from below. You feel like you might be sick as you pull it free from the vent cover, staring down into the tiny lens. 
How long has it been up there? 
You drop the camera onto your desk, your fingers shaking and trembling as you feel along the edges of the vent, checking for anything else that might be hiding up there. You replace the cover after you find nothing, a sense of dread filling you. 
Had the guys put it up so they could watch you, make sure that you’re safe? Had they put it up there before you arrived? You think about all the times you’ve changed in your room, your heat. 
You climb down from the desk, tugging it further towards the center of the room before you climb back up, unscrewing the cover off the light. You check the bulb, looking for any cameras or recording devices. You screw the cover of the light back on after finding none, a quiet sob leaving your lips as you look around your room. 
You close the door and lock it before you begin your search, checking every corner and piece of furniture for cameras or recording devices. You empty the dresser and closet, checking every drawer and corner for anything suspicious. 
You pull recording devices from under your desk and the back of your nightstand, the adhesive still fresh enough they pop right off. A cold sweat has overtaken you as you find another recording device and another camera, adding them to the growing pile on your desk. 
A quiet sob of fear leaves your lips as you check the bathroom, tearing your room apart to check every inch. You search up a tutorial on YouTube, using your phone to check for more possible cameras that you might have missed. 
You stare down at the pile of cameras and recording devices on your desk. Someone entered your room and planted them while you were with General Shepherd. It had all been deliberate. Get you away from your room and distracted so they could enter and set up the devices. You wonder if it’s all part of some sick plan, some way to ensure things are going well with your pack. General Shepherd had been very interested in your mark, invading your space without a moment of hesitation to see it firsthand. You would have shown him, had he asked to see it. Instead he’d just done it himself, as if it was nothing. 
Your hands are shaking as you find a ziploc bag in the mess you’ve made of your room, putting the cameras and recording devices into it. You drop it onto the floor before stepping on it, listening to the crack of metal and plastic and glass under your shoe. Tears slip down your cheeks as you pick up the bag of broken pieces, taking it to the bathroom. You hide it far in the back of the cupboard beneath the sink, piling things around it and on top of it to keep it hidden. 
You stand in the doorway of the bathroom, your skin crawling as you stare at the mess. You don’t feel safe anymore, not even in your own space. The thought of someone breaching the sacred space, entering your room without a second thought to put up cameras makes your stomach churn. 
Where will you go? You can’t just leave, find somewhere else to feel safe. What if they did the same to the guys’ rooms? There could have been an entire team of people that came in and put cameras up all over the barracks. A sob leaves your lips as you rush to the door, double checking it’s locked before you shove the dresser against it. You flip your desk up to cover the window as much as it can, just in case anyone tries to climb in.  
You sink to the floor in the middle of the disaster that has become your room, sobbing quietly. You want your pack home, you want to feel safe again. You glance at your phone where it’s sitting on a pile of shirts, afraid to even touch it. That woman could have done anything to it while you were with General Shepherd. What if they’re trying to call you and they can’t reach you? 
You should try to reach Dr. Keller, tell her what happened, get her to check if there’s anyone lurking around the barracks that shouldn’t be. What if they try to attack her, though? Can she defend herself? You don’t know if she can fight or not. What if she gets hurt because of you? She could ask someone else on base to look, but what if they were involved in it? What if it was someone already on base that had done it? The thought nearly makes you sick. 
You’re scared to leave again. What if they’ve noticed you found the cameras and come back while you’re gone? What if they come back while you’re here? 
The tears flow freely as you sob, too afraid to even move. You can feel it, the panic starting to bubble up again, the fear welling inside you. Your muscles begin to tense, shoulders pulling up near your ears as you try to defend yourself from this invisible threat. It’s an easy slope from fear to distress, and there’s no one to help you if you start distressing. You press your palms into your eyes, holding your breath to try and shock your body into something other than panic. 
You bite back a startled scream as a knock sounds at the door, your heart rate spiking again. 
“It’s just me,” Dr. Keller’s voice sounds through the door. “Ready for dinner?” 
You take a deep breath, staring at the dresser blocking your door. You’ll have to move it to get out, which she’ll likely notice. You could lie, you could lie easily, but you’re not sure you could keep it up right now. She’ll notice the tears, the obvious signs of panic and distress. She’ll want to know, and you can’t trust yourself not to spill everything. 
You should tell her about what had happened, but you know she’ll be disappointed. She’ll think you were stupid for leaving, for not even sending her a text. She’ll tell John when he returns, too. He should know about it, but there’s no way a high ranking General could arrive on base without them knowing, especially one that’s their commander. Maybe it had all been a test. Maybe they do know about General Shepherd and just forgot to tell you this was going to happen. 
Maybe Dr. Keller even knew about it, and didn’t say anything because she thought you knew too. 
“I-I’m not hungry.” You say, trying to keep your voice from shaking. 
There’s a pause outside the door for a moment, a beat of silence that’s too loud.
“Is everything alright?” She finally asks. 
“Y-Yeah.” You say, clearing your throat. “Just...not really hungry right now.” 
It’s silent again for a beat, making you hold your breath anxiously. 
“Are you sure? I can come back later, or bring you dinner.” She says. 
“I’m sure.” You swallow the tears welling in your eyes again. “I’ll grab a snack if I get hungry later.” 
“Okay...” She says, and you can almost see the frown on her face. “Text or call if you need anything, alright?” 
“Yeah.” You say, your voice cracking a bit. 
You regret it almost instantly, the urge to shove the dresser out of the way and fling the door open strong as you hear her receding steps down the hallway. You don’t want to be alone, but Dr. Keller can’t give you what you need. The tears start falling again, sliding down your cheeks as you flop onto your back, ignoring the way the edge of a book digs into your spine. 
You just want your pack back. You want John to scoop you up into his arms and wrap you in his warmth and soothing scent. You want Kyle and Johnny to squish you between them, sandwich you so tightly you’re scared you might burst. You want Ghost to wrap himself around you and offer you a blanket of protection against anyone who would even dare cast a glance in your direction. 
You just want to feel at home again. 
You want to be safe again. 
***
The emotional and physical exhaustion pushes you into the state between consciousness and sleep. You’ve moved to your bed, tucked under the covers and stuck between the wall and your giant bear, as if it could offer you some form of protection as you float between awareness and somewhere in the realm of sleep for a few hours.
You’re not sure what time it is, when the disruption comes. It takes you a moment to register why you’re awake. Some deep part of your brain is prickling, sending out warning signals to your body. Something’s happening, something’s wrong, something’s posing a threat. 
You hold your breath in the silence of the barracks, listening to the slow, quiet footsteps making their way down the hall. For a moment you think you might be imagining them, that you’re still asleep and dreaming. Your fingers pinch at your skin, nails digging in to confirm that you are, in fact, awake. This is really happening. 
Your heartbeat picks up, the bitter stench of fear that’s coated your room intensifying as the footsteps pause outside your door. You let out a quiet, shaky breath as you lay there, thinking up every time you checked the door in the last few hours to ensure it was locked and the dresser was still pushed in front of it. 
You cover your mouth as the door handle wiggles, catching on the lock. The whimper of fear threatening to rise catches in your throat as you hold your breath, your body trembling under your blankets. You should reach for your phone, send a text to Kate, call Dr. Keller, do something. Yet, you’re frozen in fear as the handle continues to wiggle before stopping. 
You don’t release a breath until the footsteps fade, a quiet whimper slipping from your lips. Someone just tried to get into your room. 
You’re panicking, breaths coming in short, sharp gasps as you burrow under your covers, barricading yourself between the wall and your bear, hoping you’ll be invisible in case they come back, in case they force their way in. You can’t fight, not after the day you’ve had. The best you can hope for is that your scent is rank enough in the room it’ll deter whoever is trying to get in. 
You need tomorrow to come, and fast. 
***
Daylight doesn't bring any sense of comfort. 
All it does is shed more light on the disaster your room has become, the physical representation of your internal thoughts and feelings. Your face feels puffy from crying, and there’s a bad taste in your mouth. You haven’t brushed your teeth since yesterday, nor have you showered, too scared to put yourself in such a vulnerable position. 
You glance at your phone, checking for missed calls, but there’s none. Dr. Keller will be by soon to get you for breakfast, but you’re not sure you can stand going to the mess. The idea of leaving your room, leaving it empty so anyone could just walk in and bug it or touch your things or hide out so they can take revenge on you for finding and destroying their cameras and recording devices has you paralyzed. 
That must have been what whoever entered the barracks last night had come to do. Maybe they thought you’d spend the night in one of the other rooms and they’d come to replace them. Or, maybe they wanted you to be in your room. Maybe that was the plan all along. 
The thought sends a chill running down your spine. 
You burrow back under your blankets, curling up against your giant teddy bear. You wish it was Price, that his arm would wrap around you and hold you close, keep you safe and protected in his arms. You’d take any of them right now, even Ghost. At least you know he’d protect you, especially if someone tried to enter the barracks without permission. 
You’re still lying there when Dr. Keller arrives. You stare at the dresser still pushed against the door, keeping you from opening it. Not that you really want to. You can’t stop the anxiety from taking over, bringing forward the image of Dr. Keller held at gunpoint on the other side of the door, trying to trick you into opening it so whoever tried to get in last night can finally do what they came to do. 
You know it’s a ridiculous thought. No one would be that stupid in broad daylight, and you doubt Dr. Keller would let something like that happen to her. She’d put up a fight, or at least you hope so. 
You can’t move the dresser without her knowing you’d pushed it against the door, which will only prompt questions. Questions you don’t want to answer. 
She calls your name through the door, concern lacing her voice. “Everything alright?” 
No. You want to scream it, tears gathering in your eyes again. You want to push the dresser out of the way, throw open the door and confess everything that’s happened in the last few hours to her. You want to bring her into your space, keep her there until your pack returns so you can feel even just an ounce of safety. 
But what if she gets mad? 
Leaving yesterday was stupid. Going off with some unknown beta without telling anyone was the dumbest thing you’ve done since your arrival on base. She’ll be disappointed and she’ll tell your pack and they’ll be disappointed that you didn’t say anything to her about it. Even if they knew it happened, they’d still be disappointed that you didn’t think to even question it, that you didn’t think to let Dr. Keller know what was going on. 
You made a stupid decision, and you won’t be able to take their disappointment and anger. Not after everything. 
“Yeah.” You call out, your voice shaking. “I-I’m alright.” 
You can tell she doesn’t believe you, even though you can’t see her. She probably has that look on her face she gets when she knows you’re not telling the whole truth. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the racing of your heart. You’re afraid it might give out after the stress of the last few days. 
“Are you ready for breakfast?” She finally asks, likely giving up on trying to get any more details from you. 
You’re not hungry, and you know going to the mess will not end well. The risk of distressing is high, and the thought that any one in the mess might have been the intruder last night nearly sends you over the edge. One wrong glance in your direction might cause you to do something reckless. “I’m not hungry.” You finally say, pulling the blankets tighter around you. 
“Are you sure?” She asks. “Did you eat something last night?” 
“Yeah.” You lie, trying to keep your voice from breaking. “I had some snacks.” 
Her feet shuffle outside the door for a moment, and you can almost hear her sigh. “If you’re sure?” 
“I-I’m sure.” You reply. 
There’s a moment of silence before you get a response, your breath catching in your throat from the nerves. “Alright.” She finally says. “I got word that your pack will be landing in a couple of hours and we have permission to go out to the airfield and greet them. I’ll come back to get you when it’s time. If you need anything, call me.” 
You listen to her footsteps recede down the hallway, tears burning your eyes. You hate lying. You feel bad for keeping the truth from her, but the shame of revealing what you did is too strong. 
You hastily wipe your eyes, staring at the mess on your floor. You need to get your room back to at least its somewhat normal state, and you need to put yourself back to your normal state as well. If anyone gets any hint that something is wrong, you might crack, and you’re not sure you could handle the repercussions. 
You start with the desk, flipping it back the way it’s supposed to be and positioning it as close to where it was as you can get. You collect the books and other little things that go on it, trying to arrange it as close to how it normally is. You know they’ll notice if any little thing is out of place, if anything looks suspicious. You can blame some of it on cleaning, if they ask. You did some deep cleaning while they were away. That’s one way of putting it. 
You push the dresser back into place next, putting the drawers back in before starting on the clothes, putting everything back where it belongs. You make your bed last, the urge to nest gone completely. You’re shaking with exhaustion by the time you finish, tempted to crawl back into bed, but you know you can’t. Your pack is coming back, and you need everything to look like it’s fine still. 
They’ll notice. They’ll see it, and they’ll ask, and you’ll have to spill everything and face the shame and anger from being so stupid. 
Tears burn your eyes as you slip your desk chair under the door handle, making sure it’s secure before heading to the shower to get ready for your pack’s imminent return. You shower with the door open, getting done quickly to avoid being vulnerable for long. You try to make yourself look as decent as possible, ignoring the fact that there’s broken cameras and recording devices hidden under the sink. Eventually you’ll forget. Eventually it’ll fade from your mind and become nothing more than a forgotten nightmare. 
One of many. 
You toss your pajamas on the floor haphazardly, just to make things look more normal. You know if it’s too clean, that might raise some suspicions as well. You don’t want to give away that something happened, you don’t want to raise any suspicions. You just want things to go back to normal. You want your pack back, and you want to feel safe again. 
At least, until they have to leave again. 
You sink to the floor, leaning up against your bed as you wait for Dr. Keller to take you to greet your pack when they return. 
***
Every minute seems to drag on infinitely as you stare across the tarmac. They’ll be landing any minute. Any minute now the nightmare will be over and you’ll get to see your pack again after days of being apart. Finally, maybe, you can begin to feel safe again. 
You watch the plane as it comes in to land, your hands already trembling in anticipation. There’s a twisting in your stomach, you’re not sure if it’s worry or fear or excitement. They’re so close, so close you can almost smell them. Your omega is scratching at the back of your brain, your muscles twitching as the ramp begins to lower on the plane. You need to see them, you need to smell them, you need to ensure they’re alright. 
You can’t stop yourself. As soon as their boots hit the tarmac, you’re running. You don’t care if you’re breaking rules, you don’t care if the other soldiers get worried, or see you as a possible threat, you need to be in your alpha’s arms again. 
John grunts from the force of you hitting him, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You throw your arms around him, clinging to him as tight as you can. You’re whimpering, the quiet sounds dragging from your lips but you don’t care. You press your face into his chest, breathing him in. He smells like sweat and musk, the sharp metallic tang of gunpowder burning your nose. Yet, underneath it all, you can make out the earthy scent, the petrichor going straight to your brain. 
His arms wrap tight around you, squishing you up against his chest. His vest digs into your skin, but you don’t care. You can’t feel much of anything but relief. His breath fans your forehead as he leans down, his hand cupping the back of your head. He shushes you gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Tears fill your eyes as you cling to him, fingers gripping his shirt tightly like you’re afraid he might disappear again. If it wasn’t for the pain in your chest, you might have thought this was all a dream, that they might disappear suddenly and you’ll wake up alone again. 
“Easy.” John rumbles, gently stroking the back of your head. 
You cling to him tighter as his hand gets close to your neck, the thought of General Shepherd’s hand being so close to your neck where he could scruff you so easily making your insides squirm. 
He’s gone. He’s gone and your pack is here. 
“You’re alright.” John tries to reassure you, squeezing his arms around your trembling form. “I’ve got you.” 
You keep your face pressed against his chest, breathing him in, trying to get his scent to calm the raging storm within you. Your omega is still scratching at the back of your mind, a deep need to claw your way under John’s skin and into his body pushing at the front of your mind. You won’t be safe until you’ve been utterly consumed by him, until you’re safely tucked where no one can hurt you without going through him first. 
“Alpha,” You whine quietly, nuzzling your face against his chest. His clothes are in the way, a barrier against what you need. To feel him, to smell him fully again. 
“Easy.” He says, grabbing your hands as they shift towards the velcro straps of his tactical vest. “Let’s get back to the barracks first before we start that, sweetheart.” 
You don’t want to go back to the barracks. It’s not safe anymore. What if there’s someone waiting there for you to return? What if they get hurt because you don’t tell them what happened? What if you get hurt and cause them pain? 
“You’re alright.” John says, stroking the back of your head as he begins to ease your grip on him. “There’s a couple of muppets here who I think would like to greet you too.” 
Right. You’re so caught up in your alpha, you forgot the rest of your pack. You slowly allow yourself to be peeled away from John, Kyle right there to let you cling to him. 
And so you do. 
Your grip around him is just as tight, ignoring the uncomfortable ridges of his own vest. He holds you just as tightly, projecting his scent just a bit to try and calm you. Someone presses against your back, arms wrapping around both you and Kyle. The scent of citrus lined with beta invades your nose, Johnny squishing you into a sandwich between them. Your eyes squeeze shut as citrus and salty sea air blend together, the beta’s scents reaching deep into your brain to try and ease some of the tension in your body. 
They’re back. They’re safe. You’re safe. 
Now you just have to convince yourself of that fact. 
***
“How was she?” John asks as he approaches Dr. Keller. 
“Held it together longer than I thought she would.” She says. “Things took a turn yesterday afternoon. Shut herself in her room and wouldn’t come out. I don’t think she’s eaten anything since lunch yesterday either.” 
“We’ll get some food in her.” John says. “Thank you, for looking after her for us.” 
“Well, it is partly my job.” Dr. Keller shrugs. “Always happy to do it.” 
“Things will get easier, won’t they?” He asks. 
“Eventually. She’ll learn what coping mechanisms help and she’ll adapt.” 
“Hopefully at least one of us will be able to stay moving forward. I don’t like leaving her here alone.” He grimaces. 
“Separation is hard no matter what, especially with limited contact, on all parties involved.” She gives him a look. “I think the best thing you can do right now is just be together as a pack. Let those bonds heal and let her do what she needs.” 
“Thank you, doctor.” John says, shaking her hand. 
“Call me, if you need anything, as usual.” Dr. Keller says, watching his retreating back before getting into her car to make the short drive back to the medical center. 
John gets into the car waiting to take them back to the barracks, sitting next to Kyle who’s holding you straddling his lap, your face pressed into his neck. “That looks safe.” He remarks, even though they wouldn’t be going very fast, or very far. 
“Couldn’t get her to let go.” Kyle says, tightening his hold around you as the car begins moving. 
“You’re alright, sweetheart.” John says, rubbing your back gently. 
You turn your face to look at him, your eyes red from the numerous tears you’ve already shed, and the ones still trailing down your face. The guilt nearly makes him sick as he stares at you, feeling the slight tremble still from where his hand rests against your back. 
He’d never say it out loud, but he hates the fact they had to leave you, all four of them at once too. He’d fought, argued. He and Simon could have handled it on their own, even him and the two Sergeants would have been sufficient. Anything not to leave you by yourself during their first deployment. 
Despite his attempts, General Shepherd had been insistent that all four of them were necessary for this particular task. 
So, he had been forced to leave you behind on your own. It’s gone about as well as he expected, from the looks of it. He knew the separation would get to you eventually. The stress would grow to be too much. Every day he anticipated the news to come from Kate that you had distressed and your omega had taken over because he wasn’t there to help you. 
Every day he waited for the news that they’d lost you because the brass that put this initiative into place couldn’t understand why taking them all at once was a bad idea. 
Or maybe that was their plan all along. 
He couldn’t stop the conspiratorial thoughts running through his head as their mission dragged on. What if they were doing this on purpose? It wouldn’t be that strange to push the boundaries of what could be tolerated for the purpose of testing just how effective the initiative really could be. But pushing it like that so soon? Sure, he could rationalize it was possible. War could break out at any moment, which would require most military members to leave, to be separated from their packs for months or even years. His own team could be called out at any time for months working to eliminate a target and stop war from breaking out. 
Yet, he can’t help but feel there was something more, something deeper going on. What if they had called away for more nefarious reasons? What if getting you alone had been the reason behind General Shepherd’s insistence that all four of them were necessary for this particular task? He had refused to entertain those dark thoughts for too long, the fear of leaving you alone already itching in the back of his mind from the moment they boarded the plane to leave. 
He hadn’t been able to hide his relief at hearing your voice on the phone. Though you had sounded upset, and rightfully so, his worries had been lessened in knowing you were alright. You would tell them if something had happened. He knows you wouldn’t keep something that serious a secret. If someone had hurt you, or had tried to hurt you, you would tell one of them. 
Even though he trusts you, he does plan to speak to Dr. Keller more in depth later to ensure everything went as fine as she seemed to imply it did. Obviously their absence has been hard on you, but he needs to make sure you really will be alright, that you will be able to come back from the obvious distress this has caused you. 
***
You finally release your constricting hold on Kyle as the car pulls up outside the barracks. Even with them back, it still doesn't feel like home anymore, not after such sacred space was invaded so easily, so nonchalantly. Kyle climbs out of the car, setting you on your feet on the ground. You look between him and John, realizing Ghost and Johnny are still in the car. Your stomach falls as you realize what they're about to say, tears gathering in your eyes again.
“We still have some things we need to do.” John says, reaching towards you. 
You have the momentary urge to flinch from his touch, but you let his hand cup your cheek. “You're leaving me again.” You say, your voice breaking. 
John almost looks guilty. He almost looks upset by your visible turmoil. His hand drops from your cheek to your back, turning you towards the barracks. Your stomach twists as he guides you inside, the fear of someone being inside spiking. You know you're safe with John, that he wouldn’t let anything happen to you, but you'd have to play dumb if they did catch someone inside. You’d have to act like you didn’t know someone had entered before, like you had been unaware of anything going on. That might almost be worse than telling them the truth. 
You inhale as he stops in front of your door, still closed from when you'd left with Dr. Keller. There's no chemical burn of scent blockers, just your scent in the air, and John's scent coming off him as he stands next to you. 
“We won't be long. Maybe an hour at most, and we'll only be across base. We'll come back and we can get lunch before our afternoon meeting. Then we'll just have reports to do, and you can sit in my office while I work on those, okay?” He says. 
Your brows pinch as you try to hold in your tears. You want to tell him, you want to reveal what happened, beg him not to leave you alone here again, but you can't. You can't face that shame, the disappointment you know he'll show on his face at the knowledge that you let that happen. You willingly left with a stranger without telling anyone. You let someone invade your pack's space so easily. They were gone for a week and you screwed everything up. 
“Tomorrow we'll spend the day together. All of us. I promise.” He says wiping the tear that slides down your cheek. 
Even though they're back, you still don't have them. 
You inhale shakily before nodding. “Yeah. Fine.”
John's thumb brushes your cheek for a moment before he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 
You watch his back retreat as he leaves the barracks, leaving you alone again. You think back to when they’d left you, watching his back as he boarded the plane to be taken from you. You stare at the door as the cars drive off, a cold chill running down your spine. What if General Shepherd is still here? What if they're going to meet with him? What if he tells them he met with you while they were gone and they had no idea? 
Maybe you should have been honest with them from the start. 
You stare at your closed door, your hands shaking. What if there's someone inside? What if someone is waiting to take their revenge for you destroying the cameras. What if they put new ones up? 
You should have opened the door while Price was here so you could have at least screamed when someone would hear you. You back away from your door slowly, deciding to wait in the rec room. At least there you might have a chance. You could break a window and run, or at least have a higher chance of making it to a door. 
Would anyone help you? Would anyone come if you screamed? What if they’re all in on it? 
You're shaking as you sink onto the couch, sitting so you can see into the hallway. You want to see them coming so you can prepare yourself, or at least give yourself a chance to make an escape before it’s too late. 
You run through all the things Ghost has taught you in your head as you sit and wait, the minutes dragging by painfully slow. You can feel every second, though that may just be the anxiety and fear pulsing within you. You wish you could sleep, you wish you could relax, you wish you could do anything to make the time go by faster, but yet you remain hypervigilant, staring so hard you flinch at every little shadow your brain convinces you is moving. 
You’re not sure how long you sit there, tense and coiled, ready to spring at a moment’s notice. It can’t be more than an hour as John promised, yet it feels like a lifetime before you hear movement. 
You hold your breath as the barracks door opens, boots thudding with every footstep coming down the hall. You nearly whimper when a figure rounds the corner, before you let out a sigh of relief. 
“Ready for lunch, kitten?” Johnny asks, standing in the doorway of the rec room. 
You swallow the lump in your throat, your hands still clenched into fists. You're breathing hard, your entire body tense. You know you're reaching dangerous territory. Any more panic, you may start distressing. What a welcome home for them, coming back to a distressed omega. They're probably exhausted, and here you are making a scene. 
Hands close around yours. Warm, calloused hands apply gentle pressure, slowly uncurling your fingers. Your hands are shaking, trembling just slightly. 
“Ye alright, kitten?” Johnny asks, kneeling in front of you. When he moved, you're not sure. 
“I-I'm not...” You start, your voice shaking. 
“Ye need tae eat.” He counters, as if he had read your mind, expected the answer.  
He's right. You're beginning to feel it gnawing in your stomach, something deeper than the anxiety. With all the stressing you've been doing, you know you need to eat something. Being hungry is not helping that any, either. 
“I don't want to go to the mess.” You say quickly, the words almost mushing together incoherently. “Too much.” 
Johnny sits back, staring at you for a moment before nodding in understanding. “Alright. That's fair. I'll let the lads know.”
He stands up, leaving you alone in the rec room again. You listen to his footsteps fade, the door opening and closing for a moment. You hold your breath, practically on the edge of your seat. There's no reason they would make you go to the mess. You've eaten in the barracks many times before. 
You blame your worry on your hunger. You know omegas don't do well when hungry. Omegas don't do well being uncomfortable in general. 
Saying these last few days have been uncomfortable for you is a bit of an oversimplification. 
Footsteps echo down the hallway, a familiar hulking figure approaching the rec room. You never thought there would come a time when you would feel relief upon seeing Ghost. Yet here you are, the tension easing from your shoulders as he steps into the rec room. 
“They're grabbing us food.” He says, moving to sit in his usual spot in the chair facing the door. He sighs as he sinks into the cushions, and you can only imagine how tired he must be. 
And here you are making things worse. 
“You're stressed.” He says, staring at you. His eyes are still painted black beneath his mask, adding to the eerie vibe coming off of him. You're beginning to understand why they call him Ghost. “Stinking up the barracks.” He says, pulling out his phone. 
“Oh.” You say quietly, sinking in on yourself as you sit there. “Sorry.” 
You pick nervously at your sweatshirt as you wait for the others to return, letting out a quiet sigh of relief as they enter the rec room, food in hand. 
Johnny sits you on his lap as you eat, making sure you get your fill, likely aware that you haven't eaten yet today thanks to Dr. Keller telling on you. It's quiet in the room as everyone eats, even the TV off. They all look tired and tense, and you can only imagine what happened during their time away. The things they did, the things they saw. You wonder how much blood is on their hands now, hands that have touched you, hands that are holding you. 
They can just go off and kill people and come back and act like nothing has happened. 
You could almost laugh at how psychotic it all sounds. 
This is your life now. This is your new normal. 
“We have a quick meeting. Shouldn't take too long.” John says as they stand, Johnny placing you gently on your feet. 
You tug at your sweatshirt, avoiding his gaze. They're leaving you again. They won't be far this time, but still. You just want to curl up in bed with them and lay there until you feel safe again. 
Tomorrow, John had said. Tomorrow they will be yours. 
It might have been easier if you hadn't been told they were coming home until tomorrow.
***
You tense under the blanket as the door closes, quiet footsteps approaching your position on the couch. There's a quiet sigh as a figure drops to a knee in front of you, their figure visible as a shadow beneath the blanket. 
“Can you breathe under there?” 
You slowly lower the blanket just enough to peek over the top of it. John is kneeling next to the couch, his brows furrowed in a frown. You're in his office, having shut yourself in there while they went into the meeting. John had made you swear not to go snooping as he’d let you inside. You had promised, as you still feel no desire to dig through the likely classified files that were locked in the cabinets and on his computer. Instead you had parked yourself on his couch, burrowing under a blanket that smelled faintly of petrichor and tobacco smoke. 
“There she is.” He says as you peek above the blanket, gently running a hand over the top of your head. “How are you holding up, sweetheart?” 
“You left me.” You say quietly, trying not to burst into tears and confess everything. 
“I know.” He says, wiping the tear that slides down your cheek. “But we came back, just like we promised.” 
He is right in that regard, yet you can’t help the tears as they slide down your cheeks. The ache in your chest that had started to build over the last few days is still present despite their return. Everything is wrong. They feel too far away, too distant. Nothing is safe anymore, nothing is sacred, and they’re just acting like everything is back to normal. 
“Would you like to kneel for me?” He asks, his thumb stroking your cheek. 
You’re tempted to say no. For the first time you feel wary of your alpha. What kinds of things would you admit in your dazed state? If he questioned you, would you give him enough to put together that something had happened and you’ve been trying to hide it from him? Maybe it would help, though. It would at least ease some of the tension that’s built up. Maybe it could pull you back from the edge of distress you’ve been dangling over for almost two days. Maybe he’ll accidentally scruff you and you can forget the whole thing happened. 
The dark thought sends a chill down your spine. 
“Okay.” You say, pushing yourself up to sit. 
John offers you a hand, helping you up off the couch. You don't want to let go of his hand, you don't want to be parted from him. The omega in the back of your mind is screaming at you to get close to him and stay there for the rest of time. If he leaves you again...you're not sure you can handle it. 
He settles in his desk chair, getting everything he needs ready. He'll work on his reports while you kneel, a familiar position, a familiar situation. You've done this before several times. You're not sure why you're suddenly nervous. 
You set the pillow down, dropping to your knees beside him. The chair creaks as he shifts slightly, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head. You fight the urge to flinch, to move away as he gently strokes his hand over your hair. You've done this before, he's done this before. You're not sure why your heart is thudding in your chest. 
His hand slowly moves lower, slipping closer and closer to your neck. You can't help it as your shoulders come up, preventing him from gripping the back of your neck. He moves his hand away as you get defensive, his chair turning slightly as he leans down. 
“It's alright, sweetheart. It's just me.” He soothes you, his hand returning to the top of your head. “I know it's been a while, but I promise I remember what to do.” 
“Sorry, sorry.” You gasp out, trying to relax. “I don't...I don't know...”
You do know. Your brain keeps flashing back to General Shepherd, his hand tugging down your collar, so close to your neck. How easily he could have scruffed you, if he'd wanted to. You would have known if he had, but he could have done anything to you during the time he had control. 
“You're stressed, all worked up.” John says, still stroking the top of your head, trying to soothe you. “It's been a long week for all of us. It was a risk, sending all four of us at once. A stupid risk that shouldn't have been taken.”
You're pulled from your emotional state at the slight hint of anger in his voice. It hadn't taken you long to figure out they likely were all sent in order to get you alone. It would have been impossible to get you out of the barracks and put cameras up with even one of them here. Did he know about Shepherd's visit? Had he put two and two together and figured out they sent all four of them on purpose? You figured he'd be angrier if he knew about what you did, about what they did to you. He would be blazing a path straight to General Shepherd if your alpha knew he got so close to you, put you in that kind of situation. 
At least, you hope he would. There’s still that fear in the back of your mind, that worry that it was all a test and you’ve failed. Would they send you back to the institute? Would they break the bonds and send you to a different pack? Would they send you out on your own, leaving you to fend for yourself until some other alpha crossed your path and decided you were worth it? Does he know you’re lying to him, hiding the truth of what happened while he was away? Is he waiting for you to confess, biding his time to see how long you try to hide it? 
You want to tell him. You really do, but you can't bring yourself to get the words out. You can't bring yourself to confess here on your knees before your alpha. You feel guilty, like a sinner, yet the shame keeps the words trapped inside. 
He continues to soothe you, sliding his hand further down until he reaches your neck. You force yourself to relax, knowing you need this. You need your alpha to take control. You need him to ease the heavy weight on your shoulders, even if he doesn't know what he's lifting. 
You close your eyes as his fingers press into your neck, your brain quieting to a hum as you begin to slip into the back of your mind. You feel the rush of endorphins as your brain begins to calm itself, quieting the storm that's been raging for almost a week. You begin to go numb, relaxing into John's hold as he eases you into a quiet, meditative state. He begins to work on his reports as he holds you, your mind floating off somewhere else, somewhere safer where no one can break in and hurt you, somewhere where the barracks are still secure and safe and your pack never left.
Somewhere where there's no initiative, and your pack picked you because they wanted you, because you were a good omega who did as she was told and didn't make stupid mistakes that put everyone in danger. 
The last of the tension leaves your body, your mind distant from the present moment. You're safe with your alpha. He'd never let anything happen to you. None of your pack would let anything happen to you.
The thought continues to repeat in your head like a mantra as you relax, held up by the strong pillar that is your alpha. 
***
“Report's done, Captain.” Kyle says, placing the stack of papers on John's desk. 
“Thanks.” John sighs, grabbing them. 
Kyle turns to look at you, fast asleep on the couch. “You want me to take her?” He asks, the formality easing between them as they settle into being a pack and not a task force on duty anymore. 
John stares at you, curled up on his lumpy old couch. It’s getting late, or at least it feels that way. You’ve been out, sleeping peacefully on his couch since he eased you out of your kneeling position. You’d clung to him tightly, and for a moment he’d considered holding you, letting you sit with him as you dozed, but he knows he can’t risk you seeing something you shouldn’t. So he’d eased you onto the couch, having to peel your hands away from his shirt. He’d nearly given up and let you keep hold of his shirt before you finally relaxed and released him. 
“Would probably be more comfortable.” He rubs his eyes, feeling the call of sleep himself. He wonders how much you managed to sleep while they were gone. You look tired, though you’ve been looking tired since your heat ended. He needs to rest himself, but he wants to get these reports done so he can keep his promise for tomorrow. “I'll be in there soon.”
“Don't work too hard.” Kyle says, moving to lift you off the couch. 
“No promises.” 
Kyle shakes his head before scooping you up off the couch, blanket and all. You’re still sound asleep as he carries you, pausing in the hallway for a moment. He had just been instinctually going to his room, but would you be more comfortable in your own room? You probably have spent the last week shut inside your space. It might be nice to spend some time somewhere else. 
He takes you into his room, laying you on the bed, making sure you’re comfortable. He needs to shower and throw his clothes in the wash, but he doesn’t want to leave you and risk you waking up without someone there. You’re sleeping deeply, though, not even stirring as he tucks the blanket up higher around you. He doesn't want to crawl into bed smelling like gunpowder and sweat. That might throw you off too. 
He takes the risk, knowing he can do both tasks quickly. No more than twenty minutes to get himself clean and his dirty clothes in the wash, as he prays you stay asleep and won't start panicking if you wake in a strange place. He had sensed how close you had been to distress, how tense you had been when he held you in the car. It’s been a hard week for you, even harder than it had been for them. 
He breathes out a quiet sigh of relief as he finds you still asleep when he returns to his room. You haven't moved at all, still tucked under the blanket from John's office. He gets himself changed and moisturized, rubbing some cream on the bruises that dot his skin. He's going to be sore tomorrow, they all will be, but he knows they won't be doing much. John had already told them tomorrow will be dedicated to spending time with you and helping you recover from the stress of them being gone. He’s silently glad for the break, knowing it could only be a few days before they get called out again. 
John had also told him he’d be pushing harder for one of them to stay whenever he can. He’s not taking this risk again, not if it can be avoided. 
Kyle’s pulling on his sweatpants when you inhale sharply. You're sitting up straight on his bed, eyes wide as you look around in fear. They’re hazy, confusion settling into your mind after going from John’s office to Kyle’s room after kneeling. 
“Hey, hey. It's alright.” Kyle says, moving over to the bed, taking a seat on the edge so he’s in your line of sight. “You're just in my room.”
“Kyle?” You whisper, clarity returning to your gaze as you stare at him. 
“I'm here.” He says. “Just went to take a shower and clean up.”
“Where's John?” You ask, tears gathering in your eyes. 
“Still working on things.” He says, cupping your face. “He'll be in eventually.”
The tears fall from your eyes, sliding down your cheeks. They wet his thumbs as he strokes your skin, your body trembling slightly as you sniffle. 
Something’s wrong. He's known it since you latched onto him on the tarmac. The way you'd held onto him like he might disappear, how you looked almost angry when John told you they still had things to do, the way your scent had filled the barracks, bitter with fear and stress. 
Something’s up, something you're not letting them in on. But, to be fair, they had just left you for a week, up and abandoned you to go play heroes. He wouldn't blame you for not telling them anything. The bonds have weakened. He can feel it, beyond just his natural beta senses. 
“What can I do?” He asks quietly, trying to project his scent a bit to help calm you. He doesn't want you distressing, not after holding it together for so long. 
“I...I need...” You inhale shakily, still trembling in his hold. “I don't know.” You whine, the tears falling faster now. 
He pulls you against his chest, holding you as you cry. He feels the tugging in his chest, sympathy for you and what you must be feeling, along with the guilt of knowing they caused this. They did this just with their absence. 
An idea begins to form in his mind as he holds you, something his family used to do when he was younger. 
He pulls away from you, standing up. “Come on. I have an idea.” 
He strips the blankets from his bed before pulling the mattress off the frame. He drags it to the door and out into the hallway before heading down to John's room. You follow behind him, watching him as he opens the door to John’s room, dragging the mattress in and dropping it on the floor. 
“Stay here.” He tells you, heading back out into the hallway.
“What're ye doin’?” Johnny asks, sticking his head out of his door. 
“Grab your mattress and Simon and meet me in Price's room.” Kyle says as he heads down the hallway, ignoring Johnny's further questioning as he makes for John’s office. 
He doesn't bother knocking, walking right in. John blinks at him from behind the desk, and for a moment Kyle wonders if he'd fallen asleep sitting up. It wouldn't be the first time. 
“Come on.” Kyle says, moving to stand in front of his desk. “Finish those tomorrow.”
“They're important, I have to get them done asap.” John counters. 
“Yeah, well I have something more important.” He leans forward at John's questioning stare. “Your omega needs you.” 
John stares at his beta for a moment, and Kyle can see the gears turning in his head, the debate happening, the conflict in his mind. He so rarely sees his alpha, his captain so indecisive for so long. He's usually so quick to act, analyzing a situation and making a decision in mere seconds. 
If only you knew the things you've done by simply existing in their lives. 
John closes the file on his desk, slipping it into the drawer before locking it. Kyle fights the triumphant grin threatening to form on his face as John stands from his chair after shutting his computer off. Kyle makes his way back down the hallway, John following behind after locking his office door. Kyle stops at his room, grabbing his comforter before heading for John’s room. 
Johnny had obviously gotten the idea of what Kyle had in mind, his mattress and John's laid out side by side so the three make one giant bed for them on the floor. He’s already laid out his own comforter and Simon’s, as well as John’s on the mattresses. They probably wouldn’t need blankets for long with their body heat, but the blend of scents will hopefully begin to ease the tempest raging in your mind. 
You’ve parked yourself in the corner, watching it all happen. You seem so small, so lost, so out of place. It's not all that different from when you'd arrived in their lives. Has being gone for a week really reverted things so drastically for you? Has your stress broken the bonds so much that you feel like a stranger amongst them again? 
Kyle steps over the mattresses, approaching you slowly. You look up from where you had been staring off into space, blinking up at him. Your eyes are still red and watery from crying, your arms clutching one of your stuffed bears against your chest. It’s the one John had scented for you, back when they were trying to get you to nest. He wonders if you’ve nested since they left, if that urge is still there, or if that too has faded. 
Kyle doesn’t often feel angry at his job. Not anymore. He doesn’t often question it. It’s what he signed up for, and he does it because someone has to. He chose this life, so he does his best to be a good soldier, to follow orders. Yet, as he stares down at you, he can’t help but feel anger bristling in the back of his mind. He tries to blame it on his instincts, on the fact that a member of his pack is so upset, so distressed at something that’s happened, and he doesn't know what to do to help. 
Yet he knows they were the cause of it, even if it wasn’t their choice directly. Something happened because of them. He tries to rationalize it. This is an experiment, a test to see how well packs will do with omegas, if it has any effect on how well they can do their jobs, if it makes them stronger, or if it weakens them. Those in charge had obviously put little regard in for how it would affect the omegas. They couldn’t have known how you would react, how badly all of them leaving would affect you. Or maybe they did know, and they simply didn’t care.. Perhaps you weren’t the focus of their study, but you were still a variable, you were still an important piece of this puzzle. 
How can they be more effective if their omega is struggling because of their absence? How can they be expected to function like a team now knowing leaving behind their omega will only cause distress for all of them? 
Kyle takes a deep breath, pushing back the anger and the emotions whirling in his own mind. He needs to focus on you right now, focus on helping you relax, helping you get back to where you were before they left you. He’s doing the best he can do right now for you, giving you what you need, even if you don’t realize it’s what you need yet. 
He holds out his hand to you, staying still as you stare at it. It takes you a moment before you slowly begin to move, slipping one of your hands into his. He guides you to the mattress in the middle, Johnny’s mattress, easing you down to sit on it. You glance around as Johnny and John toss pillows onto the mattresses haphazardly, making sure everything is perfect. It’s not a pretty nest, he’d hardly call it a nest at all, but he knows nesting is not necessarily all about looks. It’s about feeling, and right now, he knows you need to feel safe and secure. 
John quickly changes into more comfortable clothes as Kyle stretches out on the mattress, opening his arms to you. You curl up against his side, resting your cheek against his chest. You press your face into his skin, inhaling for a moment before you settle, slowly beginning to relax in his hold. 
Simon enters the room as John settles on Kyle’s other side, closing the door behind him and locking it, securing the five of you inside. Johnny settles on the other side of you, pressing up close against your back. He pulls one of the comforters up around the three of you before he tosses an arm around you, resting his hand on Kyle’s stomach, sandwiching you between the two betas again. 
Simon stands over the makeshift nest, staring down at the four of you. He’s obviously the most uncomfortable with the situation, and still a bit miffed from your lack of greeting on the tarmac. It was his own fault for being so closed off with you for so long. You had instinctively sought out the members of the pack you felt the most connected to, the most comfortable with in your time of such great stress. 
“Aw come on, ye big bastard, get in the bed.” Soap says, snapping Simon out of his reverie. 
Simon shuts the light off, bathing them in near darkness. You tense for a moment as the lights go off before you slowly relax again. Kyle listens to your breaths even out as Simon gets comfortable on the mattress behind Johnny, the four of them settling in around you. 
It's already warm in the room but none of them would even think of complaining. They’re too focused on surrounding you with their scent and their protection, the very thing you need the most. 
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finniestoncrane · 3 days
Note
Virginal vault dweller reader you say?? I'd eat that up (and so would Cooper, heh) but seriously I would read the hell out of that if you're up for it <3
Different Up Here
Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 6.3k anon thank you lmao i had already started drafting this, so vault dweller reader isn't quite a virgin but they are definitely inexperienced and have never known pleasure like the kind that cooper can offer 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: power imbalance, dubious consent because once you've said yes to cooper you can't change your mind, overstimulation, crying, oral sex, fingering, rimming, instructional, full penetration babiessss i realised i never tag that shit but yeah it's in here lmao, cumming inside, no protection, sweet coop afterwards but only briefly
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If anyone else had asked you in that moment how you were, you couldn't have answered accurately without any hint of sarcasm and irritation. You were being worn down, like buildings by the sands of the desert. Each little molecule of your optimism being torn away from you, painful like plucking a hair. But when Cooper asked you, you tried your best to push down your knee jerk response.
"Let's see, shall we? Since leaving the vault a month ago, bravely in search of resources and supplies for my friends, I have killed, maimed, and eaten things I hope to never think of again. I'm in a constant cycle of very, very stressed and then very, very bored where there is no happy medium between fearing for my life and wishing for death. And oh, by the way, I'm sweating buckets the whole time because it's deathly fucking warm. Thank you for asking, Cooper!"
Instead, you shrugged and offered him at least a partial truth.
"It sounds silly... but I'm kind of bored."
A dry chuckle passed over Cooper's lips.
"Heh, that's a new one for out here."
Sensing an opportunity to at least get some conversation out of him, you sat up on the rusty bed frame, your body sinking into the almost entirely flattened mattress as you crossed your legs and did your best to get Cooper to talk more than a sentence at a time.
"Really? I would have thought you'd be bored a lot, especially when there's no raiders, or mirelurks, or scavengers, or feral ghouls, or super mutants, or roving gangs of-"
"See, this is why I'm never bored. Always somethin' or someone to be killin'."
"But what about like... now? When there's nothing else to do. There's no magazines, no books, no TV."
You watched as Cooper turned from you with a slight smile. You knew the one, the familiar grin that meant you'd divulged some information about your life in the vaults, something he always found so amusing. It was your naivety, your optimism. He was endlessly fascinated by it, as though listening to you talk about it reminded him of something he had before.
That fascinated you. It made you want to stay around him, the way he listened silently as you talked about the old films that were on the holotapes, the food that was still fresh and available, the music you could hear whenever you wanted to, not reliant on some two-bit radio host. He paid attention to you. And any time his deep, brown eyes focused on your lips it made your heart flutter in an admittedly unexpected manner.
Remembering that feeling, you tried again, hoping that your next approach might be something that interested him a little more than just conversation.
"You know how we used to pass time in the vaults?"
Over the sound of the evening breezes that whipped up the sand you could still hear Cooper sigh before he spoke.
"Now if you tell me that you wanna go out there again tonight to find an old blast radius board... well I am just going to have to shoot you."
You laughed at what you hoped was a joke and waved him off, despite the fact that he was still turned away from you, unable to see your gesture as he tried ignoring you in what you assumed was the hope that you might shut up and leave him alone.
"No, no no no no no. Just..."
The lump in your throat felt like it was about to choke you, so you swallowed the clump of nerves quietly, your voice trembling as you finished your sentence.
"... fooling around... y'know?"
Cooper turned to face you. You had piqued his interest, and you couldn't help but show the giddy glee on your face, the smallest smile crossing your lips as your eyes widened. But his words wiped away all hope that you had garnered in that short span of time.
"Oh... oh darlin'."
He laughed a little, each little sound of the short, sharp giggle like a slap to the face.
"I don't think you're ready for that at all."
You raised an eyebrow, defiant, irritated, and keen to know how he thought he had you pegged so quickly. You'd never talked about anything like that with him before. Was he assuming that you were a virgin based on how you behaved around him alone? Maybe he figured that the lack of flirting on your part was down to a complete lack of experience, when in reality, it was because every flirtatious quip he threw your way made you so nervous and flustered you felt like you might throw up.
"How come I'm not ready? I mean, I've... I've done stuff... I've done it!"
"The fat you're not saying it how it is makes me think that you are absolut-"
"I've had sex, Cooper. I've fucked before. I've been fucked."
Blinking off the irritation at being interrupted by you, Cooper pushed up the brim of his hat and stared directly at you, as though he was examining your, to see if you would stand up for yourself any further.
"By who? One of your little buddies underground? Fucking like little bunnies? I don't think that qualifies you, sweetheart."
"Why? Sex is sex..."
You said it with such confidence. As if you really knew. As if you hadn't spent your teenage years practising on your hand, holding a pillow close, lining up for that one girl in the vault who would sell practice kisses for extra bubble-gum. You'd had sex before, of course. You weren't a liar. Just because you'd only ever done it once didn't render it nonfactual. Just because it had only lasted for all of four minutes. Just because you weren't sure you even orgasmed, and your friend had told you that you'd know if you'd orgasmed. Just because it was all over so quickly, and he'd run off before anyone could catch you both, avoiding you at every opportunity after that.
"... Isn't it?"
"Oh no it ain't. Besides, like I keep telling you, it's different up here. Everything's different up here. And that includes fuckin'."
The way he said the word, consonants enunciated with such grit and vigour, filled your stomach with knots that began to tighten as you considered in what way things were so different.
"What exactly do you mean by that?"
Cooper sighed, exasperated, resigning himself to the fact that you were going to keep talking to him regardless of his short replies and attempts to end the conversation.
"You are a dog with a bone, huh? Ain't gonna let it go."
His yellowed teeth were exposed as his lips pulled back in a baring, mischievous smile. Those knots doubled, the ends being pulled by tension in your nervous system as Cooper's smirk put you into a dazed stupor.
"No, sir."
"Now, I don't remember signing on to be your personal tutor in all things apocalypse. Do I really need to show you how everything works up here?"
As your cheeks began to blush, you nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes, sir."
You were hopeful for just a bit of a distraction. Something to help take the stress away. To relieve the tension that had been building up between you and Cooper as of late. You'd been studying him, watching the way he looked at you, fascinated by your perceived, and frankly obvious, innocence. The way his fingers moved, contributing to the skilful way he handled his gun and his ropes. The confidence, the charisma, the charms.
You wanted him, but you weren't quite sure how to broach the situation without it seeming desperate. But you were past that now. You were desperate For anything, just something. Something to cure the monotony of walking and hiding and fighting and surviving. You didn't want to just survive. You wanted to at least find a semblance of fun and pleasure in this nightmare you had found yourself in. And in the vaults, when board games and books and debates got boring, there was always fucking. That was what you desired most right now. The fact that Cooper happened to be the closest target for your desires was just a sweet miracle, or a cruel tease depending on how willing he was.
And luckily, he seemed agreeable.
"Well then, how about you come over here and let ol' Coop show you a little thing or two about how dirty you can really get up here in the mean, dusty Wasteland, hm?"
Your excitement was palpable, even though you were trying to keep your composure. There was no escaping the echo of the giddy squeal you let out as you jumped up from the bed and made your way over to Cooper. He waited in the far corner of the room, setting himself down on an old armchair as you stepped towards him, slapping his thighs as an indication of where he wanted you. And you did as you were told, following his instructions, knowing they hadn't led you astray so far in your time together.
It felt awkward at first, being so close to him. You shifted your weight nervously, trying to get comfortable while making sure Cooper was still at ease, which of course, he was. He always was. Nothing stirred him, he was forever at peace. Competent in any situation. Quick to adapt. And as you fidgeted and fussed, you felt his strong hands pushing you forward on his lap, until your chests were practically pressed together, his hands skirting over your lower back as he held you still. In command. In control. The sudden sensation of his hands on your body made your breath hitch, a soft, surprised squeal on the inhale that had Cooper raising his brow at you.
"Now... you agree that you asked for this, alright? Because I am not going to put my effort into entertaining your little whims if you're gonna get fussy and decide it's too much for you. I did warn you."
"Yes, you did, and I really don't think you needed to. I doubt there's too much different about it, and I've picked up what I needed to know pretty quickly from your other lessons, haven't I?"
Your retaliation to his insistence that you needed him to teach you everything, and that some things just might prove themselves a little too hard even for your levels of enthusiasm, had irritated him when he'd first met you. But now your optimism and sheer refusal to believe anything was too much for you were a source of entertainment for him. A challenge.
"That's fine then, darlin'. But I'll remember that."
His eyes bore into your soul, keeping your focus on him as he dared you to look away. They sparkled as he ran his tongue over his lips, the pretence of preparing for his next words covering the obvious flirtation in the way he dragged the flat muscle along his chapped skin.
"So, gimme a benchmark here, lil lady. How much foreplay was involved in your previous encounters? I'd hate to leave you high and dry."
"Foreplay...? What... uh, what is that?"
Cooper sighed, rolling his eyes before closing his eyelids over gently.
"Well, it's something like this."
He pushed a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, rough fingers following the curve and grazing over your neck as he let them drift down the front of your chest, tickling the exposed skin as far as your jumpsuit would allow before he took a hold of the zip at the front. A quick flit of his eyes up to you seemed to ask for permission, and your small, almost imperceptible nod, told him to keep going.
Slowly, painfully so, he pulled the zip down, watching as the centre of your torso was slowly revealed to him. Smooth skin, in comparison to his anyway, clear of any unnatural blemishes or war wounds. One calloused digit followed down your sternum to your stomach and back up, hooking under the left side of the fabric and pulling it over, then the other, exposing the top half of your body to him.
Cooper traced his fingertips over the top of your breasts, watching as your chest moved in and out, slowly, but exaggeratedly. The knots in your stomach felt like they might burst with the tension as his sharp, ragged nails crossed over your hardening nipples, a gentle tingle coursing through your veins.
"Well?"
"No... n-nothing like that... just grabbing..."
"Oh yeah? You like that? How about this?"
He closed two fingers around your nipple, one hand still on your back to keep you balanced as your body reacted to his touch. Between the two digits, you felt your nipples heating up, the slight, burning pain from the way he squeezed them sending a signal down your spine that seemed to affect every part of you. Tighter, tighter, and then as your eyes closed a little more, eyelids pressed tight, he would ease up to offer some relief.
"You like that? Like it rough?"
"I think... I think I like both."
"So, something like this?"
He teased your nipples once more, pressing harder with his fingertips, pulling them out and jiggling your breasts as he tugged at them, this lewder act interspersed with a gentle caress as he held your breast against the palm of his hand, carefully cupping it as he flicked his thumb over the sensitive and completely erect nipple.
You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, Coop's hand moved swiftly from your body to your cheeks, popping the lip back out as he pressed his thumb and forefinger into your face. Understanding the message, and seemingly showing this in your wide-eyed gaze, he let his rough, leathery hand make its way back down to your breast, cupping it once more as he spoke.
"Different, see? Pleasure is hard to come by out here. You gotta do it right when you've got the chance."
Cooper leaned into your neck, whispering the words low and slowly, his dry, chapped lips skimming over your skin as he continued.
"I bet down there they didn't know the first thing about real pleasure. Takes time, something like that. You gotta learn the body, gotta make it feel good."
His teeth grazed over your shoulder and back up along your neck before he pulled back, watching your eyes refocus from the haze of arousal.
"Did they make you feel good?"
"No."
You were confident in that statement. It hadn't felt good. It felt rushed. Clumsy. Shameful. And as you pondered it, your mouth remained open in a slight pout which trembled as Cooper asked his next question.
"And what about your pretty lips... did they kiss them?"
"A little..."
Cooper leaned in, his rough lips pressing onto yours with firm contact, his tongue staying in place as though he imagined that might be a bit too much for you right now. But that same level of restraint didn't keep him from letting his teeth catch onto your bottom lip, pulling it out, only letting go when you winced in surprise as the suddenness of the action.
"Didn't bite them either. Of course not, what am I thinking? That would be a little too adventurous for your kind."
His face took on a darker tone as he smiled knowingly towards you.
“And what about these pretty lips?”
Before you could piece together the question, his hand was diving into your jumpsuit, pushing down the front and past the waist, stroking against the front of your underwear which, by now, was soaking wet with your arousal.
“They touch these lips, huh?”
You gasped as he pushed your underwear to the side, stroking his fingers along your slick, plump pussy lips, withdrawing them soon after to taste you on his tongue, the way you had watched him taste the blood of enemies, the blood of victims.
“Stand up, darlin’… Why don’t you take that suit off, hm? Get yourself comfy.”
As you raised yourself up from his hips, your legs wobbled under you, not quite steady enough to support you so soon after being reduced to jelly by Cooper’s touch, his caramelised words that filled your ears, the sharp twang of his accent, the delicate cadence, the power rumbling underneath like an almost silent bassline.
“Do it slowly though.”
Cooper watched carefully as you stood nervously before him, shuffling out of your suit, stripping for him, your hips moving from side to side slow and steady, unintentionally sultry in the way you moved. Without taking his eyes from you he reached for his canteen, taking a long sip from it as you let your suit fall down over your legs, stepping out of it and pushing it to the side with your feet.
“That’s it, darlin’. Can’t do this half-hearted. I need to have access to all of you there. Now come sit back down.”
You held your arms in front of you, feeling far too exposed for the shelter you’d found for the evening. No windows, no locks on the doors. But it was difficult to focus on that worry for too long as you watched Cooper’s tongue flit back out over his lips, clear strands of drool sparkling in the light as he took you in, hungrily, dreamily.
“Turn around though. You face that way.”
The metal buttons on the front of his duster coat were cold against the skin of your back, but you leaned into them anyway. Cooper’s hand curved around your neck and up under your chin, holding your face forward.
“You keep an eye out, holler if you see anything coming. I’ll do everything else.”
A faint clicking sound, the safety on his gun being flicked to off, before those same fingers draped over your mound and down on to your lips, spreading them apart, the cool air of the decrepit room cooling the heat of your hot, aching cunt. With two fingers holding your lips apart, he let the middle digit tap against your clit, each tiny sensation turning your blood cold before heating it exponentially, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow as you felt a tingle in your abdomen.
The finger that tapped the sensitive bud began stroking it from side to side, laying flat against it length wise as Cooper strummed your body, still holding your chin in his hands, smiling to himself every time your back arched away from him in intense pleasure. Every nerve-ending was at his mercy. He was right, it was different up here. But you wondered how much of that was the Wasteland and it’s effect on sexuality and pleasure, and how much of it was just him. Cooper Howard, Wasteland bounty hunter, a past life he refused to talk about, the most charismatic monster you had ever met. His fingers, daintily crossing over your clit, as you felt his breath, silent except for an occasional hum of satisfaction in the form of a long moan. Maybe it was just Cooper who was different.
It was hard to focus on this new line of though as his hard fingertips clamped down on your clit, pinching it as he rolled it between his fingers. Even harder when he let his hand drop from your neck and instead began teasing at your nipples once more. Soft, cruel flicks over the hardened bumps, his fingers at work on your body, his lips kissing at the back of your neck. Moans growing louder, more frequent, as he let himself enjoy the act of making you squirm. You could tell he was having fun, as you rolled your hips back a little, feeling the thick bulge of his stiffening cock against your rear. You wondered how it might feel, how it might look, and what he could do differently with it.
“Cooper… Coop… I think I’m going to cum…”
His movements quickened, cock twitching against your body as he pinched tighter and pressed his fingers harder against your cunt.
“Don’t you dare, little lady.”
“Ok I’ll… I’ll try but… you have to… stop… please stop… Coop…”
He ignored your please, the whining, desperate begging as you tried to stop your body from the natural, encouraged reaction.
“Have some self-control, sweetheart.”
“Cooper, I really can’t… please… please stop touching me…”
“I absolutely will not.”
Your fingers dug into his thighs, but you noticed that you refused to move away from him. You wanted to do as he asked, wanted to hold yourself back from the brink of orgasm to prolong his touch, but you couldn’t risk him actually stopping, fearing that your body might crumble if his fingers left your quivering, pathetic body for only a second.
Each stroke against your increasingly wet and sensitive pussy had you trembling and shaking, and Cooper had to remove his hand from your breast to keep you steady, placing it under your chin and holding you steady by the neck.
“I am warning you, missy.”
“Cooper… I can’t stop…”
You shuddered and whined as your body gave in to the temptation, feeling a rush of heat and relief as you came on his lap, your arousal coating his pants, adding to the collection of stains and wear on them. But he didn’t stop then.
“No wait… seriously, Cooper… I can’t… I can’t take much more, honestly…”
“Listen, I told you. I said you better not cum. I wasn’t done with you yet.”
Your eyes began to sting with tears of exasperation as your body kept on pushing to its limits, conjuring up another wave of climax, tormenting you with never-ending bouts of arousal that kept you rutting against him, despite how painful it was to keep writhing into his body. You could feel your stomach knotting again, not much time between each orgasm to relax, and you dug your hands into his thighs, pushing your body up off of him as you tensed completely.
“Ok, this time, you do it on my command. You do it when I say you can, alright?”
“Cooper…”
“Don’t give me that pleading shit, you asked me to show you how things are done. Well this is how Cooper fuckin’ Howard does things. So are you ready? You gonna come for me?”
“C-coop… I’ll… I’ll try…”
“Good girl, now you keep that mouth making those whines and moans. I don’t need you to call out my name or anything, I know I’m all you’re thinking about.”
The praise, the self-confidence, the way his fingers seemed to be pulling your orgasm out, motioning for it to come closer to him.
“Come on, darlin’, come on…”
Your vision blurred as the climax came over you, body rolling and convulsing as you came once more at Cooper’s insistence, your cheeks stained with tears, salted water rolling through the layers of grime and clearing paths to your chin.
As you settled back down onto his lap with a shudder, you felt Cooper’s fingers stroking through your hair. He was surprisingly gentle, oddly calm, but you supposed that you deserved his kindness as you had done as he had asked, making up for your previous indiscretion. He was almost cooing, shushing you as you found your breath, establishing your sense of self once more after the overstimulating orgasm that shook your core.
“You seen enough of the big bad world for one day then?”
You probably had, but you still found yourself shaking your head, ignoring the way your body reacted with a violent twitch at the notion of Cooper’s hands delivering intense pleasure.
“A glutton for punishment, hm? Or just keen to learn?”
As you pondered your answer, Cooper seemed to have come to the conclusion for you, as he tapped your hips and began to shift underneath you.
“Alright then, get onto your knees.”
Positioning yourself at his feet, you couldn’t help but look up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at you with that unique brand of disdain and intrigue he had somehow mastered. You knew what was coming, what was about to happen, and your mouth began watering at the thought. What he might taste like. What he might look like.
You didn’t have to imagine for long though, as you could see his fingers working the belt of his pants, loosening it, unzipping his fly, and gripping his semi-erect cock at the base as he took it out, brandishing it. He kept close attention on your own eyes, a soft sigh of relief imperceptibly escaping his chest as he noticed your pupils widen, your mouth opening in preparation for him.
It was exactly as you had expected. The texture of the shaft was similar to that of his cheeks and his forearms, a similar colouring, though darker at the base and on the shaft which was tinted red. Thick, purple tinged veins covered it, winding around the length, cutting across the ridges of the scars.
“You can come closer, darlin’. I don’t know what they told you about mutations and radiation effects down there in your little utopia, but I can assure you… it doesn’t bite.”
The fear was palpable, clearly, but it was nothing to do with Cooper’s body and everything to do with your lack of experience, which, despite you arguing otherwise, was becoming plainly obvious even to you. You had only ever touched a cock with your hands outside of being quickly fucked. Several times you’d been cajoled into quickly stroking an erection under the blankets before your partner ran off to the bathroom, clean and tidy, flushing away the sins. And you were very well aware that there was always the option to suck on one, but it had never presented itself. It had never seemed that appealing to you. Until you were faced with Cooper’s.
He hadn’t even asked you to do either yet, but you found yourself curious, salivating over the thought of him, mind racing as you imagined how he might feel against your tongue.
“Can I taste it… you?”
Cooper smiled warmly, one of the few times you had seen him look at you with genuine pride.
“Now that is using your initiative. Of course you can.”
You kept your hands to yourself as you leaned in towards his body, content to let Cooper wield his length at you, his hand firm around the base as you inched closer, tongue pressed out over your lips. A strand of drool collected and spilled forward, hitting the floor in a soft patter just before the tip of your tongue came into contact with the tip of his cock.
A lot of the movements were instinctual, following your desires more than what you thought might be protocol as you dragged your tongue up the shaft and swirled over the blushing head of his cock. It tasted bitter, but in a pleasant way.  Savoury, not sweet. Salted, a tang that stayed there for a few seconds after your tongue had moved on to another spot. A flavour you found yourself craving now.
Cooper gripped tighter and pushed forward, taking you by surprise as he slid himself into your mouth, his free hand moving to the back of your head, fingers curling into your hair. As the taste of him hit the back of your tongue, cock almost touching your throat, you coughed and spluttered a little.
“Fuck me, darlin’… do you need me to show you how to do this too?”
He looked down at you, filled with pity as he saw your face. Red cheeks, puffed out, lips stretched over the girth of his cock, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe.
“Breath through your nose… breathe in…”
You followed his instructions, instantly calmed when you found your lungs filling with air once more. Almost immediately back to enjoying yourself, the feeling of Cooper inside of you, the control he had as he held your head against him.
“Now… you don’t want to choke too much, so keep your tongue flat… yeah, just like that…”
It was so much easier like that, and you could feel your cheeks getting warmer and redder as you realised that not only had you embarrassed yourself with your spluttering and lack of knowledge, but that Cooper had clearly done this a lot.
“And your teeth… well, usually they’ll tell you to keep ‘em outta the way, but you know me… gotta be different…”
Taking the hint, you let your jaw close slightly, the pain of the stretch lessened, your teeth scraping along the top of his shaft as your tongue worked the underneath, sucking and rolling as much as you could while keeping it flat.
He didn’t say much else, and you couldn’t tell if he was particularly enjoying himself. It worried you, the fact that he had specific preferences, the way it was so clear how much more experienced he was than you. How many others had there been? And were they all better than you? As your mind wandered to your anxieties, you completely missed the fact that you had begun to drool all over yourself until Cooper relaxed his grip on your head and wiped at your chin with his thumb. Catching your eyes and sensing some of your worries, he was surprisingly quick to soothe you.
“You can swallow or spit or let it all spill out, I don’t mind makin’ a mess darlin’. But whatever you’re doing, you keep that up.”
You were so pathetically grateful for the encouragement, for the tiniest semblance of praise, that you felt yourself moaning involuntarily. The soothing motion of sucking on his cock, the taste of something new, the comforting knowledge that he was happy with your efforts. You could feel your clit throbbing, aroused by Cooper’s satisfaction, how pleased he was with the way you worked him over.
Which is why it surprised you so much when he pulled his cock from your mouth, your lips slipping off of it with a disgustingly lewd popping sound, drool spilling onto your chin in long strands which stretched from your lips to his cock and tore apart as he distanced himself from you.
And again, that sympathetic gaze, the way he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it.
“Oh, don’t you look at me with those big, sad eyes. You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. That was good, ‘specially for a first try…”
He winked to you as he spoke, causing your heart to skip enough beats that you thought you might die there and then.
“… It’s just that I’m all slicked up and ready to go now… so you wanna bend over for me? Or do you wanna come sit on my lap?”
“Uh… lap, please… I was kinda bent over for the last… first time.”
“Well, you come and take a seat then, darlin’, let ol’ Coop show you something new.”
You nervously settled your entirely nude body back down onto his thighs. Cooper’s hands were gentle against your shoulders as he pulled you backwards with him, leaning at a slight angle in the chair, his cock rigid and firm as it sat against your waiting cunt, coated in your drool which almost seemed to shimmer with the dancing light of the fire.
Then, so carefully, so gently, far more than you’d ever seen him be before, Cooper took hold of his cock at the base and slid it inside of you, one hand on your stomach as he braced you, keeping your body steady as he inserted himself further and further between your clenching walls.
“Bigger than before?”
You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the distinct stretch, his rough, textured cock forcing its way inside your cunt, pressed up to the hilt, testing your limits.
“Better?”
“Mhm…”
“Speak up, darlin’.”
With your voice strained and breathy, you managed to form some words.
“Yes… it’s better.”
“That’s it, good girl. Now, I’m gonna buck my hips, ok? You just try and keep your balance.”
Below you, Cooper shifted a little, his hips rolling backwards, inches of his cock escaping your tight, aching cunt, before he rolled them forwards and upwards, back into you. A slow, steady pace that he focused on keeping until you felt warmer, more relaxed.
“You got this, it’s like riding a horse.”
“I’ve never… hm… ridden a horse…”
Cooper chuckled, a low and rasping sound that sent shivers over your skin and seemed close enough to you that it was coming from inside of your body.
“Never ridden a ghoul before either, but you’re handling it alright for a first timer.”
You were coping ok, you had to admit, but you could feel your stomach muscles tensing, the knots back in full force as they tensed and tightened, loosened and frayed with each pump of his cock within you.
“Ah… Cooper…”
“Too much, darlin’? Does it hurt?”
There was a sense of genuine care in his tone, as though he had taken it upon himself to show you that yes, things were different up there in the Wasteland, but that didn’t always mean they were worse. Some things were good, if not a little bit difficult to take at first.
“A little…”
Cooper tilted your chin up, forcing your head to lean back completely against his shoulder. In a delicate move, one far more romantic than you imagined from him, he ran his thumb over your lips, angling his neck to look at them, his own mouth open ever so slightly, a monotonous panting as he kept his hips moving, increasing the speed and the force at which he entered you.
His eyes flicked up suddenly, looking into yours, catching your gaze and holding unblinking eye contact as he spoke.
“I know… I know… Just a little longer, though…”
He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock pushing against your body, enveloped in your hot, wet, velvety interior.
“I know it hurts… but I ain’t stopping, so don’t even ask… here…”
You watched as he brought a finger to your lips, offering it up to you.
“…you bite down on that if it gets too much, ok… but don’t hold back on those sweet sounds… I wanna hear you scream.”
With that vaguely threatening remark, he thrust up into you, banging against your body, spurring on your orgasm but unleashing a dull ache that spread through every sensitive part of you.
“Won’t… be long… keep it together… good girl…  good girl…”
It felt good, the pain, the sting, the ache, the shivers. The fact that he was using you, finding pleasure in you. All of it culminating in Cooper’s nearing orgasm which you could sense was closing in on him. His movements were becoming more frantic, sloppier, and he was mouthing all manner of sweet nothings as he let his façade slip away.
And those soft mumbles opened up into a wide roar as he clung to your body, the hand on your neck cutting off the air to your lungs only briefly, one hand on your lap pressing sharp indents into your skin as he forced himself into you. The last few moments of his fevered thrusting, fucking you wildly, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he rutted into you in a dazed stupor before his body gave in. His cock throbbed, each pulse sending another rope of cum against your insides, filling you with his seed as he shuddered finally, slinking backwards into the chair and taking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from him.
You’d only managed to take a few steps forward before Cooper addressed you, opening his eyes to watch you standing there awkwardly, his cum dripping down your thighs, a warmth that quickly turned cool in the air of the room.
“Did I say you could get up?”
Panic settled in your chest, aware that you had waited until you felt his muscles relax, his body retreating from you, before you slid off his cock, expecting him to push you away anyway, like your first time. You assumed he was finished, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the idea that he might not be done with you.
“Are we… oh, Cooper, I really can’t take anymore.”
Even as you stood, you could feel your legs shaking, weakened by the intense orgasms, the way they tightened against his every movement.
“That’s different up here too then, I suppose.”
Cooper stood up from the chair, pacing towards you with a purposeful stride as he pushed his cock back into his pants, zipping them up as he reached you. You inhaled sharply as he placed his hand at the back of your head, those knots in your stomach beginning to form again, worried that a further, albeit pleasurable punishment was on the cards. But you were surprised as he slid his free hand around your back, tugging at your waist as he pulled you in close to him. A quick smile before his lips were on yours, the brim of his hat pushed upwards as he leaned into the kiss. Warm, gentle, the kind of kiss you’d seen in movies. Practised and confident, meaningful, sincere.
When he pulled back, your body following him a little before you settled back onto your feet, he smiled warmly.
“Sweet with the sour, darlin’. You gotta keep ‘em wanting more.”
“M-more?”
More as in now? Or more as in the idea that Cooper had enjoyed himself and would be willing to offer that kind of pleasure to you again. And he answered with a wink.
“Definitely. There’s a still a lot you’ve got to learn.”
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simonzmama · 2 days
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just ‘magining pretty plushed up plus!size reader takin a seat on her handsum manz
you hover, simon’s warm breath warming up the insides of your pretty thighs, knees digging dents into the cloud of his pillow that sits on either side of his head.
you can see the shine of his eyes peeking from between your legs when you recline back slightly. he raises his eyebrows, apples of his cheeks popped wide with the hidden grin that laces his lips.
“you gon’ sit or what, hun’?” simon quirks, eyes filled with nothing but lust. his pupils are blown wide, almost nothing but a black void that mirrors your reflection across ‘em.
your cheeks flush in a the deepest of pinks, n your eyes flicker nervously. “si… w-what if i’m too heavy?”
he almost misses your words, your soft, hot skin cupped around his ears. n although, simon’s tryna be patient, sweet, there’s a line thinning, his mouth watering as he almost forces you down.
yet, he just lets his thick fingers glide up the back of your thighs, fingers curling inward when they reach the wide of your hips. “too heavy?” it’s almost a snarl of disbelief, of complete n utter madness that you could believe something like that. “ya’ ain’t gonna crush me, baby, you’re funny for even thinking that.” he laughs, n the rush of air against your wet, sticky folds has your back perking n nipples hardening. “we both know i can take it, now sit.”
your mind wanders, he picks you up, tosses you, lets you sit on his dick till you are practically killin’ him… yeah, wtv he can def take it.
n so you comply, letting your knees slide slightly as you sit yourself down on his awaiting mouth. not fully though, mind still at doubt, yet you can definitely feel the way his tongue curls around your clit n the way he sucks the pretty pearl between his lips, rolling it every so softly between the whites of his teeth to have you gasping and thighs in a desperate hurry to close.
his arms snake around your thighs and with a harsh pressure, you’re forced down, till you can the angry press of his nose against your pubic bone. “i said sit, i can take it. i want it, baby, lemme have you.”
wanted sum pretty plushy belly action in here 😔
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foreveralbon · 2 days
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i’m having his baby! - cl16
in which they have a dog, an ollie and… a stroller? pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader requested!
i believe that in order to make smaus you need to be a) funny and b) aesthetic. neither of which i am, i fear. click on the tweets to see the full thing + ignore the dates i was too lazy to change all of them. happy reading! general masterlist
yourusername just posted!
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yourusername oh look! it’s my boyfriend and his son
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charles_leclerc i love you mon amour
charles_leclerc the most amazing mother to our son -> yourusername no one was expecting any less though -> landonorris i didn’t think you’d keep either of them alive this long actually -> yourusername i’m gonna block you norris
charles_leclerc prettiest girl i know is on the other side of the screen -> yourusername DON’T MAKE ME BLUSH WHEN I CAN’T KISS YOUUUU
maxverstappen1 my son, you mean… -> yourusername so charles is our boyfriend? -> maxverstappen1 hi babe -> charles_leclerc i never consented to this wtf
user1 when you are coming back to the paddock!?! we miss you here ☹️☹️☹️ -> yourusername SOON I PROMISE! i’m nothing more than an academic victim i fear 😞
user2 the height difference is killing me 😭😭
user3 does this mean seb is ollie’s grandfather?
olliebearman birthgiver -> yourusername hellspawn (affectionate)
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charles_leclerc the newest addition to the family. welcome home leo 🤍🤍
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yourusername kissing leo
olliebearman BABY BROOOOO
user4 i wanna squish him oh my god
user5 they’re so soft
user6 THEY’RE STARTING THEIR OWN FAMILY NOW 😭
maxverstappen1 cats are better -> charles_leclerc you literally had a dog at one stage? -> maxverstappen1 cats are better.
landonorris tell ur girlfriend to unblock me pls
welcome to the world of f1twt!
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yourusername and charles_leclerc just posted!
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yourusername the final addition to our family of five: little baby clara ❤️❤️
landonorris my favourite goddaughter fr -> user12 lando is clara’s godfather? 🥲🥲 -> user13 more importantly: LANDO’S BEEN UNBLOCKED!!
user20 new favourite f1 family incoming!!
kimi.antonelli IS THIS THE SURPRISE SHE WAS TALKING ABOUT? olliebearman -> olliebearman HAHA YES -> user14 kimi what are you doing here?
charles_leclerc mes anges ❤️
maxverstappen1 there’s a seat next to p’s on the plane with clara’s name on it -> yourusername ROAD TRIP 🗣️🗣️🗣️
user15 charles is so girl-dad coded
theiceman I WAS RIGHT I WAS FUCKING RIGHT liked by yourusername
iamrebeccad oh she is such a sweetheart! can’t wait to meet her in the garage 💕💕 -> charles_leclerc soon, we promise!
user16 the daddy-daughter paddock fits are gonna so hard i’m telling u guys now
user17 may as well just sleep on the highway tonight ig
user18 you look like clara bow 😭😭😭 in this light remarkable 😭😭😭 -> yourusername taylor wrote it for my baby actually <3
user19 i can’t believe theiceman on twt wasn’t just being delusional -> theiceman i fucking told you all but noooo i was wrong and i needed to get my brain checked for overthinking it
@namgification @disneyprincemuke @hiireadstuff @queen-aria-things @lipringlrh @33-81 @demvnsriot let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist!
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cutielando · 3 days
Text
mr. and mrs. ~ oscar piastri
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Summary: Wedding of the year is finally here between the two favorite youngsters on the grid. Everyone is invited!
Words: 1.3k+
Other works: my masterlist
♡♡♡♡♡
Oscar and Y/N.
Y/N and Oscar.
Everyone knew them, everyone loved them.
Ever since the young Australian lad had entered the Formula 1 world, Y/N had entered it with him. Always by his side, always attending his races while also attending university.
They had been together for many years, practically having invented the term “highschool sweethearts”. Despite Oscar’s busy schedule and Y/N being at university, they always made it work, never letting the distance affect their relationship.
Moving together to the UK had represented the first sign that they were both in it for the long ride. Packing up their entire lives and moving across the globe to follow their dreams proved that their relationship and the love they had was real.
Real and pure.
When Oscar got the opportunity to drive in Formula 1 and Y/N started her studies, the time they spent together shortened by a significant amount, but they managed to make it work.
They talked on the phone every day, texting when neither of them could speak on the phone, they took every opportunity to visit each other when they had free time, with Y/N visiting Oscar at his races or Oscar coming home when he would have 2 weeks off between races.
They made it work.
But Oscar wasn’t satisfied. He needed something more. He needed something that would put his mind at ease when he would be away.
He needed to officially make you his.
Towards the end of the season, you had a few weeks off uni and decided to join your boyfriend in Qatar for the Grand Prix.
You hadn’t really chosen the best race to attend, the heat and the humidity making it really strenuous on your already tired body. But seeing the smile that Oscar had while doing the grid walk with you by his side made it worth it.
Being there for Oscar’s sprint win had been the highlight of your entire year. Seeing him cross the checkered flag first, seeing his name on that first position on every monitor around the paddock, the feeling was unlike anything you had ever felt before.
Up until the moment Oscar got out of the car.
He made his way over to where you were waiting for him after he celebrated a little with the team, taking off his helmet and balaclava and giving them to one of his assistants.
“How about that?” he asked, chuckling as he pulled you into his arms, careful not to squeeze you too tightly because he was sweaty.
“I’m so fucking proud of you, Os. I can’t believe I was here for your first win” you said, your voice muffled because you had your face buried in the crook of his neck.
“It’s technically not considered a win bec-”
“Shut up and enjoy the moment” you interrupted, making him chuckle and continue hugging you.
As he let go of you, you didn’t notice him reaching for something behind his back, not even his assistant subtly handing him something as he appeared again from the garage. All you could focus on was him, and nothing else around you.
It only really hit you when Oscar lowered himself down on one knee in front of you, a red velvet box in his hand.
“Oh my God” you said, your eyes widening and your hands flying up to your mouth.
All around you, the McLaren team gathered in a circle, phones ready and cameras rolling to catch the sweet moment on camera.
“Y/N, I don’t even know whether words will suffice to say what I want to say right now. You’ve been by my side since we were kids, you moved to the UK with me and left your entire family in Australia just for me, and I can’t even begin to explain how much that meant to me. I can’t imagine my life without you in it, I frankly don’t think I could survive on my own if you weren’t here. I want to grow old with you, I want to have kids with you and build the life we’ve always talked about having. Y/N, will you marry me?” the words got stuck in your throat, so you settled for nodding feverishly.
The entire team around you cheered, but you could only see Oscar. As he got up and slid the ring on your left hand, you threw yourself into his arms and softly cried, the moment far too emotional to be able to hold back.
Your engagement had become national news in a matter of a couple of hours. Every media channel from the world had written about Oscar’s proposal in Qatar, speculating about when the wedding would be and whatnot.
It didn’t even feel like it had really happened when you stared at the ring on your finger, the feeling foreign but so welcome and like it was meant to be.
You and Oscar had multiple talks about when you would get married, where you would have the wedding and many other problems that came with being away from home and everyone’s families.
Which is why you decided to have the wedding back home in Australia.
After the season was finished and the winter break came, you and Oscar had started planning the wedding, which you settled to have after the last race before the summer break. He had already sent invitations out to the rest of the drivers, all of them very eager to attend the young lad’s wedding.
Lando was especially thrilled, but couldn’t help making jokes about how he had never thought Oscar would be the one getting married so young.
“What did you do to him, Y/N? You charmed him pretty damn well” he’d always joke whenever you guys would hang out in the garage before a race.
Yours and Oscar’s mothers took care of most of the things regarding the venue, the flower arrangements and catering, wanting to take the load off of you while you were halfway across the world.
The only thing that you had to worry about was picking your wedding dress and flying over to Australia to get married.
And when the day had finally come, excitement flowed through your veins.
Nicole and Oscar’s sisters had helped do your hair and make-up, your mother only watching as she sobbed quietly in the background.
“Mom, you’re gonna make me cry too if you don’t stop” you told her as you watched her through your mirror, making the other girls laugh.
“I just can’t believe my baby is getting married” she laughed, wiping her tears and walking up to stand behind you.
You smiled and took her hand, mostly to calm your nerves as well.
You were really getting married. And to the love of your life, which was a plus.
After you were prepped and ready to go, your father came to fetch you to walk you down the aisle. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you held his arm tightly and clutched the flower bouquet tightly in your other hand.
But your nerves disappeared like they had never even been there when the doors opened and you locked eyes with Oscar waiting for you at the end of the aisle, Logan beaming behind him as his best man.
The ceremony went by in a blur, the only focus on your part being on Oscar. You only vaguely remembered saying your vows and saying “I do”, your memory only having imprinted the first kiss you two shared as husband and wife.
You were positive that nothing could ever top this moment, getting married with all of your friends and families present, stepping into your new life with Oscar by your side.
Nothing could ever be better.
Nothing could top you becoming Mrs. Piastri.
Being Mr. and Mrs. Piastri.
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tetragonia · 3 days
Text
My Body, His Choice
Rafe Cameron x F!Reader
Blurb: In which you've been arguing with Rafe Cameron all these years and that one time when arguments turned into something heated. Literally.
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warning: no use of (y/n), kissing, harsh words, a bit suggestive?
note: enemies to lovers ;)
words: 445
“You know, for someone who claims to be so perfect, you sure do have a lot of flaws.”
You threw a bitter remark at Rafe. This was clearly not your first time getting into an argument with him.
"And you, of all people, would know about flaws, wouldn't you? I mean, it's practically your expertise."
Rafe was no stranger to you. You two grew up side by side as you were the same age. You often followed your father that Ward hired to lead some fishing expeditions. You met Rafe when you were 10 and none of those years patch your rocky ways together.
“Sarah is my sister, I sure know what’s best for her,” Rafe gritted his teeth.
“And that’s clearly not living with you,” you countered. “She’s happy with us, Rafe! I’ve never seen her laugh this much when she was with Topper, it felt like she was held hostage!”
Rafe stepped closer to you hurriedly, hissed, “Watch your little mouth.”
“Or what?” you removed more space between you and Rafe, throwing your head up in a cocky way and raising your right eyebrow. Hands on the hips, smirk never left your lips.
Rafe's breath was deep and his eyes were fixated on you. You thought he'd explode but then suddenly he grabbed your nape and pulled you close, pressing his lips against yours. His breath felt hot against your skin, his grip was tight.
Rafe’s kiss was rough and hurried, fueled by a mix of desire and frustration.
Caught by surprise, you didn’t think twice to kiss him back. He was infuriating, yes, but wasn’t he charming? With that cocky grin and confidence whenever he stride, Rafe was effortlessly dancing between the line of tempting and irresistible. 
Even if you find yourself rolling your eyes at his antics and cursing his name under your breath, there’s no denying the undeniable attraction of Rafe. 
“I’ve wanted to kiss you since you jumped on that boat,” Rafe whispered between kisses. His grip on you tightened as if afraid you might slip away, his movements desperate and urgent.
You kissed him deeper, biting his lower lips as he let out a soft moan. In this moment, nothing else mattered but the feel of his lips against yours, the taste of his skin, the sound of his soft sighs mingling with her own ragged breaths.
“Then why did you pick an argument with me?” you moaned as Rafe started to kiss your jawline, and then your neck. “Do you suck that bad at flirting?”
“Oh, go fuck yourself,” Rafe hissed to your neck as you shut your eyes, feeling the intensity.
“Fuck me yourself, you coward.”
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badjokesbyjeff · 3 days
Text
There were three race horses; ernie, bill, and ted. 
the three of them were good friends; they enjoyed racing each other and generally won and lost to each other equally. every evening, after the races, they went to a local bar to relax and drink some beer. they would often discuss racing techniques, their families, etc.
one season, bill wasn't doing so well. he rarely beat the other two, and was worried that he'd be sent to the glue factory if his luck didn't change. one night, at the bar, he talked with ernie and ted about it.
"you know, guys, i just can't figure it out," he said. "everything's fine at home; the kids are doing great, my wife is being nice, the bills are paid, my mother-in-law rarely visits - nothing could be better. maybe i'm just getting old. if things don't pick up soon, they'll send me to the glue factory."
the bartender, a big llama from peru, overheard the conversation. he looked around, to make sure nobody else was listening, then said, "hey, pal, i got something for you that'll make you feel like a young colt again." he reached under the bar and pulled out an unlabeled bottle of beer. "here, drink this; i guarantee you'll start winning again. come by each night for a week and I'll give you one. if it doesn't work, i'll give you double your money back!"
bill looked at ernie and ted, who only shrugged, then drank the contents of the bottle. "oh, just one thing," the llama said, "it'll make your ass itch, but that's okay; it's just a side effect. don't worry about it." the three horses stayed a few hours, played a few games of pool and darts, and went home.
over the course of the next three days, they went back to the bar each night, and bill continued the regimen of mystery beer. his racing times did improve! he was slowly moving back up in the rankings, and was soon back into the top three with ernie and ted. bill was ecstatic, and thanked the llama profusely.
"hey, my pleasure," said the llama.
a few weeks passed by, and ernie started slowing down. after losing three races in a row, he sobbed to himself, "i just don't get it. my life couldn't be better. i can't believe I'm getting old! they'll send me to the glue factory if i don't get back in the groove!"
that evening, at the bar, he told the llama bartender about his troubles, and asked if he too could try the mystery beer. "okay, but remember, it'll make your ass itch - but don't pay it no mind. it's just a harmless side effect."
"no problem. it'll be worth it to get back in the groove," ernie said.
a few days went by. ernie's ass did indeed itch, but after a few more days, his races improved, and he was back in the top three with bill and ted.
at the bar one evening, ernie bought a round of beers for all the horses, and thanked the llama profusely.
"i just can't believe how great that mystery beer worked!" ernie said. "you're sitting on a gold mine, there!" the llama said it was his pleasure, don't worry about it, etc.
a few more weeks went by, and now ted started slowing down, losing races. he, too realized that he'd be shipped off to the glue factory unless his races improved.
"say," he said to the llama one night after a particularly humiliating loss, "i think i need to try that mystery beer too. they'll ship me off to the glue factory for sure if I don't start winning again."
"no problem," the llama said, pulling out an unlabeled bottle. "here. come back every night, and i guarantee you'll be back in top form again, or i'll give you double your money back."
over the course of the next few weeks, ted's races continued to improve until he was back in the top three with bill and ernie. he pranced into the bar, full of vim and vigor, and thanked the llama profusely. "you know, my ass itches a lot; it's almost unbearable. but i can't thank you enough. they would have turned me into glue by now if it weren't for you. anything you want, let me know and i'll see what i can do."
"no problem," said the llama, "i make this beer at home using an ancient inca recipe. it's just my way of thanking my regular customers for their patronage over the years."
"i'm not kidding," ted said, "this is the greatest thing that's ever happened to me. anything, you name it, anything you want, let me know, and it's yours."
"well, now that you mention it..." the llama began -
right then, a greyhound walked up to the bar. he was obviously depressed.
"barkeep, give me something strong. i'm on a losing streak you wouldn't believe," the greyhound said.
ted looked at the greyhound, then at bill and ernie, and said, "hey, look! a talking dog!"
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candy69gurl · 2 days
Text
INSUBORDINATION
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PAIRING Toji Fushiguro x f!reader
SYNOPSIS The reader, a young woman of wealth, is married to Toji and consistently treats him as her servant, much to his dismay. Fed up with her behavior, Toji resolves to teach her a lesson.
WARNING non/con, brat taming, spitting, face fucking, hair pulling, spanking, face slapping, fingering, nipple play, missonary, bondage (hands tied only), cock riding, squirting, doggy style, multiple orgasms, degradation, use of vulgar words (dog, bitch, slut, whore, cum slut), humiliation, raw sex (cumming inside mouth, creampie, face cumming), clit slapping & rubbing, man handling
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Marrying this seemingly charming and powerful Toji Fushiguro, you believed it imparted a greater benefit upon him than it did upon yourself. His overwhelming infatuation for you was not reciprocated, and instead, you treated him more as a pet than a partner. As a young, rich woman with an air of superiority, you demanded his obedience and submission, constantly reminding him of his place. You were unaware of the brewing storm inside him, waiting to unleash its fury upon you. Little did you know, the love and adoration he had for you were a ticking time bomb about to go off. The way he was treated drove him insane, pushing him to the brink of insanity, and he couldn't take it anymore.
"Hmm, so.. Toji I would like to talk to you, my dear", your eyes never leaving your nails.
Toji glares at you, his eyes smouldering with rage and lust stored inside him. Despite his inner turmoil, he forces a smile and responds, "My lady, I am here." His voice drips with false sincerity, reflecting the pain within him. It's clear that every moment spent serving you gnaws at his soul, fueling his desire to teach you a lesson you will never forget. Yet, he can't let you sense his true intentions - not yet.
He waits patiently, his muscles tensing beneath his clothes, as he anticipates your command. His heart pounds wildly against his chest, and his mind racing with thoughts of revenge and domination. He knows that he's about to snap anytime.
"I need you to stop wasting my money on gambling", your gaze finally shifts from your nails to Toji, who's standing before you with his head bowed.
A chill runs down Toji's spine as he hears your words. Your demand has cut him deeper than any blade could, igniting a firestorm of emotions within him.
How can he possibly stop himself from doing that? It's his sole means of earning money for himself. And it's not like he constantly relies on your finances for that. But the way you phrased your money, it really struck a nerve and left him feeling utterly humiliated. He understood that you were implying he should beg you for money, but that's something he would never do.
He tries to maintain his composure, swallowing the bitter taste that filled his mouth. With a stiff nod, he replies, "As you wish, my lady. I shall cease all gambling activities and dedicate myself entirely to your needs. But I would like you to stop ordering me around"
"Excuse me? who do you think you are?", one of your eyebrows raised, utterly confused by his sudden back-talk.
Toji's eyes flash with defiance, and his voice take on a dangerous edge, "I am your husband, a man scorned and abandoned. I have given you everything I have, my love, my heart, my trust. Yet, I receive nothing in return. I am sick of being treated like a mere toy. My passion for you burns like a thousand suns, and it is time you recognized my worth!" His face contorts with rage and hurt, his entire body trembling with suppressed power. "Do not mistake my patience for weakness, for I am far from it. One day, you will learn the consequences of disregarding those who truly care for you."
Your countenance remain devoid of emotion as he uttered those words. Instead, you advance towards him, drawing nearer... and nearer... until you stand face-to-face. Despite his height advantage, you are aware of the superiority you hold.
In an instant, your hand delivers a sharp slap to his face, causing his head to jerk to the right. "How dare you talk to me like that?"
Your slap lands across Toji's cheek with a loud smack, jolting him back to reality. His eyes widen, shock etching lines onto his face. For a brief moment, he stand frozen, the sting of your hand burning a trail across his pale skin. Then, without warning, his expression twists into one of pure fury. In a single, fluid motion, he grabs your wrist and pins you on the ground.
"GET OFF ME YOU SICKO", you scream.
Toji snarls, his eyes blazing with a feral intensity. "No, little miss high-and-mighty, I decide when this ends. You've played your games, and now it's time to pay the price," he growls, his grip on your wrist tightening. He leans closer, his hot breath washing over your face as he whispers, "You thought I was weak and submissive, but you sorely underestimated me. I am a man consumed by desire and rage, and I will make you pay for your cruelty."
His other hand moves to fondle with your clothed breasts, "Coming to think of it.. I never touched.. Maybe tonight is the time .. I finally discover your secrets."
"Don't even think of it.. Move your filthy hands off me!!" your legs pushing his chest away from your body.
Toji's eyes narrow, his lips curling into a predatory smile. "Oh, I think I've already discovered your secrets, my dear. You're just as desperate for my touch as I am for yours. You can scream all you want, but no one will come to save you. You're mine, and I will have my way with you."
His grip on your wrist intensifies and he begins to move his hand lower, towards your thigh. "You've pushed me too far, and now it's time for you to learn a lesson you'll never forget. I'll make you beg for my touch, and when I'm done, you'll be mine completely."
"I should have kept a body guard..", your eyes get teary as you start feeling vulnerable. The thing that you hated the most.
Toji's eyes flicker with a hint of victory at your admission. "Yes, perhaps you should have," he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. "But it's too late now. There's no one coming to save you."
His fingers trail along the edge of your clothing, teasingly close to bare skin. "I plan to make it as painful and pleasurable as possible. You'll come to cherish these moments, begging for more, even as you curse my name."
His eyes gleam with malicious intent as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "Every benefit you receive carries a price; for the service I've rendered you over the years, my dear wife, I require my due compensation. I'm not interested in payments via cheque, cash, or phone apps. I seek recompense through your body."
"I will never.. ever.. submit to you .. Toji Fushiguro..", you land kick on his side, attempting to run away from his grasp, yet he remains unaffected. He does grunt as your kick connected with his side, but he doesn't release you. Instead, he smirks, his gaze heated. "You.. Keep struggling, but you're only making this worse for yourself. Give in to me, let me show you the pleasure you've denied yourself for so long."
Slowly, he slides his hand underneath your clothing, his fingertips brushing against your skin unclasping your bra, taking it off you easily. You squirm beneath him, but his grip remains firm, unwavering.
"D-dont do it ..", you try squirming again.
Toji's lips twitch into a cruel grin. "Ah, but I must. After all, I promised to teach you a lesson, and I always keep my promises." His fingers continues their relentless exploration, caressing your nipple gently before pinching it firmly.
"Feel it, wife. Feel the pleasure I can give you, even as I punish you. Let your body betray your reluctance, let it crave what you claim to despise." He leans in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear as he whispers, "And remember, this is all ya fault. You made me this way."
You buck beneath him, trying to escape his grasp, but his hold on you unyielding. He pushes your top up, yanking it off you, exposing your breasts.
"S-stop ..", your hands escapes his grip swiftly, trying to hide your bare chest from his monstrous gaze.
Toji's eyes roams over your exposed body hungrily, drinking in the sight of your exposedness for the first time. "Such beauty, wasted on someone like you..."
He reaches out, his finger trailing down your sternum, then moving to your neck, causing goosebumps to rise. Your hands pushing his face, gripping his hair, trying to yank him off you.. But everything fails. And you know if you try hitting him, it'll enrage him further. Your hits are nothing in comparison to the hits requried to knock this giant man down.
Toji chuckles darkly, his grip on you unbreakable. "You cannot escape me, my dear. Not tonight." His fingers dance lightly along your collarbone, tracing patterns that sent chills down your spine. "You wanted control, you craved dominance, and now you shall experience both in equal measure."
As his fingers reaches your breast, he gently slapped your hands and, cupped your breasts, squeezing slightly before letting go. His eyes sparkling with mischief as he watches you writhe under his touch. "Soon, you'll beg for more."
Refusing to yield, you remain steadfast in your refusal to submit to him. You attempt to land kicks once again, this time more haphazardly and with greater force.
Toji catches one of your legs easily, his eyes gleaming with a mix of anger and lust. "Keep struggling, wife. Make it harder on yourself." He responds, his voice thick with emotion. His gaze lingers on your body, taking note of every twitch and shiver.
With a swift movement, he rolls you onto your stomach, restraining your arms behind your back, squeezing your face on the ground. His veins bulged on his hands as he gripped your hair tightly, pressing your cheeks against the cold floor with force.
Toji smirked, enjoying the fight in you. He pressed his body against yours, his erection evident through his clothes. "What happened to the lioness?" he mocked. "Got defeated by a mere dog?"
He reaches for your hefty priced skirt, ripping it down, revealing your bare ass. His hand hovers over it for a moment before bringing it down, delivering a sharp slap. You cry out in surprise and pain, arching your back.
"Fuck you that dress's worth is more than yours", Toji's eyes fall on your reddened teary-face. He gazes for a while before laughing cruelly, the sound echoing in the quiet room.
"Is that all you can muster, a reprimand for my actions? I thought you'd beg for mercy by now." His hand falls again, this time harder, the sting of the slap searing through your body.
"You are tough I must say" He speaks, his voice dark and heavy with emotion. His eyes flash with mischief as he prepared for his next move.
"L-let me go now", your tone somehow shifts to a plea.
He looks down at your red, angry cheeks and puffy lips, his gaze shifting to your ass, the imprints of his five fingers are distinctly visible on your skin. "Shall I?"
"YOU WILL LET ME GO BASTARD i WILL KILL YOU," you yell at him, hating the way he was treating you, as if he owns you.
Toji pulls you up by your hair, leaning closer to your face, "Looks like you haven't learned your lesson yet. Need to shut that big mouth,"
You forcefully expel saliva from your mouth, deliberately directing it towards his face, "Never."
Toji's face flashes with a grin as he wipes off your spit from his face and licks his finger, his grip on your hair tightening. "Nasty bitch!" he snarls. His free hand frees his erection and you gasp on seeing how big he is. Big enough to nearly kill you.
"W-what the fuck do you think you are doing", you swallowed in anticipation.
Without responding, he pulls your mouth towards his erection, rubbing the tip on your swollen lips.
Your hands reach up to squeeze his shaft, intending to hurt him. Toji winces, his eyes flashing with pain and anger. "You really don't want to die, do you?" His voice shaking with fury as he grasps your wrists, locking them on either side of his legs, his precum leaking shaft rubbing against your cheek. "This is your punishment, and you're going to take it like a good girl."
Despite your resistance, he thrusts his erection into your mouth, forcing you to take him off. You could barely take in his entire length as drool cascades down your chin and your neck swells with every push. You struggle but he remains firm, so you use your teeth, nibbling on his dick.
Toji hisses in pain and anger, releasing you. "You fucking cunt! I should've known better." He slaps you, causing you to cry out in agony. "That's for biting me!" He grabs your hair again, pulling your head toward his dick and begins to thrust roughly.
"Hnghh-", tears stream down your cheeks, smudging your flawless makeup.
Toji's eyes squint seeing you cry, his lips curling up trying to hide his laugher. "Crying? That's cute. You're crying while servicing me!" His grasp on your head tightens as he keeps fucking your throat relentlessly. "Didn't think you could handle it huh? Too bad, because this is just beginning!"
Your eyes twitching in anger, you keep making noises of struggles.
Toji's thrusts increasing in speed. "Shut up, you ungrateful whore! This is what you deserve!" He slamms into you harder, ignoring your protests.
Why is he acting like that all of a sudden? You never thought the man you married is going to treat you like this. But yes karma, you have hurt him, you made him like this. HE IS RIGHT, you deserve this.
His grip tightened on your hair, his thrusts growing more violent until you screamed, tears streaming down your face. Finally, he cums, flooding your mouth with his seed. "Swallow it. I want to see your Adam's apple moving."
You involuntary swallow his seed. Toji stares at you, his breathing ragged, his eyes fixated on the sight of you swallowing his semen. "Good dog," he sneers, wiping his shaft clean.
You wipe your mouth weakly, "I will never forgive you. You are gonna face the consequences."
Toji chuckles coldly, releasing you. "Oh, the night just started.." He picks you up walking towards your bedroom.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT.. WE ARE DONE.. I AM GOING TO FUCKING DIVORCE YOU", you throw punches on his spine, your nails scratcing his clothed back.
Ignoring your threats, Toji places you on bed, tying your hands with his XXL tshirt to the headboard. His eyes glinting with excitement. "We're far from done, darling. Now, spread your legs, or shall I do it for you?"
"You are not allowed to touch me.. TOJI FUSHIGURO!"
Toji grins wickedly," Oh yeah?", with a swift movement he pulls your panties off you. You legs hiding your core from his gaze. His eyes locked on your resistant form. " He reaches down, spreading your legs apart with force. Your protest is soon silenced by a hard slap accross your clit.
"Now Now.. Look at that," he gathers your wetness with his finger and licks it, "Taste of a bitch in heat."
You bite your lower lip from embarassment. Toji's eyes darkens with lust, his fingers running through your damp entrance, teasing your hole. "You're so wet, yet you are protesting? Ah, I love it." He smirks before inserting his finger inside you, feeling you tense. His eyes searching for your reaction.
"You are lying.. It's not possible-", you still keep on protesting.
Toji pulls his finger, "Hmm?" He raises his eyebrow at you, "Am I? Prove me wrong!" He inserts another finger, stretching you wide. You gasp, arching your back. "Mmm, see for yourself", he then pulls his fingers out. He holds his fingers near your face, covered in your essence, "See?", forcing them into your mouth making you taste yourself.
Your eyes widening, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
Toji's eyes gleam triumphantly, his fingers finding their way back inside you. "Pretend all you want, but your body knows the truth." His thumb rubbed your clit, expecting a moan from you. "You want to feel my cock inside you, and let us both know the truth."
"D-do what you want.. but I will not moan."
Toji's grin never wavered as he pulled out his finger. "Stubborn till the end, aren't we?"
He adjusts his position above you, his erection poised to enter you. "Very well, but you won't be able to help yourself soon enough." Before you can react, he thrusts into you roughly, invading your core. He groans at the tightness, his pace increasing.
Your hands tugging on the restraint, eyes watering again from the invasion. He leans in, whispering in your ear, "Let me hear it, your pleasure."
"F-fuck fuck.. pull it out already.. Toji", you nearly beg him.
Toji does not pull out instead he leans back, his dick sliding inside you further hitting your womb as tears spill out of your eyes from the stretching.
"Ohh.. What a sight to behold! The mistress is crying.. Is that how you request your controller?", he slows down a little.
"Please.. Toji... pull it out already", you feel your insides getting ripped everytime he pushes himself in you.
Toji laughs darkly, "Call me master Toji"
"Bastard", you reply.
He starts thrusting, roughly and harshly. "You want to die?"
"Pls master toji .. It's tearing me," your voice shaking with pain and confused pleasure.
His thrusts slows down again, his eyes scanning your tear-streaked face. "That's right. Who owns you?"
"Y-you..", you reply, your self respect crumbled against Toji's feet.
He smiles cruelly, "Mmm... What's that? I wanted to pull out, but your walls are not allowing me to." with that he keeps slamming into you. This time gentlier than before. Your face twisting in anger and tears.
"No, no..." he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your forehead softly. "It's alright. Embrace your submissive nature. You'll thank me later." His thrusting intensifies, his pace accelerating. You whimper, unable to control your pleasure. "It feels good hah?"
"N-no it does not," you lie. Toji's eyes glint at your lie. 'We will see about that" as he speeds up his thrusts, pulling your nipple causing you to cry even louder.
Suddenly moan escapes from your mouth, biting your lips you hide your shift your head right avoiding eye contact with him.
"There it is!" he whispers, his thrusts growing more erratic. "Didn't you just say, you won't moannn?" his mocking evident. "That's it, let go! Enjoy it!" He rams into you, owning you fully.
Your eyes locking on his again. "You look so beautiful, when you are this vulnerable and submissive." His words, punctuated by his thrusts, your moans filling the air. "So obedient..."
Your walls tighten, your climax reaching soon. Toji's thrusts slow down as he realizes your nearness. "Not yet..." He pulls his dick out, causing you to cry out.
"I decide when you cum. Remember that." He reaches down, playing with your clit. "Beg for it."
You look at him, your mind still not wanting to give in.
"Beg for it, or I will keep doing this the whole night" He repeats, his voice firm.
He strokes his cock, your eyes widened, realizing the threat. "Please Toji, let me cum.." Your voice trembled, your body tensing.
"Please what?", he smirks biting his lips.
"P-Please master..", you pout after saying the words.
Toji smirks, placing the tip back to your entrance. "Complete the sentence," he rubs your wet, puffy clit with his tip.
"P-Please master toji let me cum", your respect for yourself almost vanished as your eyes begged for him.
"Louder" He pushes his tip inside you, painfully slow.
"PLEASE MASTER TOJI LET ME CUM.. PLEASE .. I BEG OF YOU"
Toji lets out a satisfied growl, thrusting deep. "That's more like it, my good slave." He pounds you mercilessly, your pleas for release filling the air. "Cum. For me."
Your body tenses, toes curl as you orgasm hard, walls spasming rapidly against his cock. Toji watches your orgasm unfurl, his dick pulsating inside you. "Mmm, nice." He thrusts faster, his climax approaching. "Fuck, yes. So tight.. I never imagined you felt this good." He grunts, his breath hitched, his release imminent. "Gonna fill you up. Bet you won't remain selfish anymore once you have your own baby."
Only moans come out of you as he thrusts into your oversensitive pussy. Toji finishes his thrusts, spilling himself inside you, pulling out just to see his seed drooling out of your clamping walls. "Shit.. Look at that, so dirty", he pushes his dick inside you again, watching your body shuddering.
You mutter a low appologise as your breathing starts becoming stable once again. "Oh so now ya guilty?" Toji laughs, his dick twitching inside you still, he's getting hard once again. He pulls his dick out and drags you onto his lap.
He caresses your cheek, "Do you think I can ever forgive you baby? with all these years of disrespect that you flung at me?" his other hand pats your ass. "I dont want to hear your apologies. I will divorce you just like that."
You feel as though everything is falling apart around you. It's the last thing you expected to hear from him. You know you love him, but you chose to ignore your feelings up until this point. "Pls master.. d-dont divorce me .. I love you", you lean towards him, kissing his cheek.
Toji's eyes flickered for a moment, as you kiss his cheek. "Wow.. Just an orgasm out of you, put you in your place? Perhaps.. There's only one way to change my mind", he licks his tongue wanting to push your buttons. You look at him expectantly.
Toji's eyes sparked with devious delight "Show me how much you love me, my slave".
Sighing, you take his erect cock and insert it inside of you. You begin to flex and extend your hips along his girth.
Toji watches as you ride him, his eyes never leaving you, his eyes twinkling. "Mmm, nothing sexier than a woman in need," He growls, grabbing your hips and pushing you into his hips. "Ride it harder!" He groans, moving along with your rhythm. You nod and increase your pace, bouncing harder, his veins popping on his forehead.
"Impressive, but more!" His hands move to your neck, pulling you closer. "Yes.. Open your mouth whore" He grips your throat gently, tightening his hold.
You open your mouth, and Toji spits in it, "Swallow it". Without any delay you swallow it.
Toji laughs, "How the tables turn, huh?"
You lean to kiss him, but he grabs your neck not allowing you to get closer to him. "I don't want to kiss your nasty mouth bitch"
"P-please master toji.. kiss me", you beg him, hands reaching to caress his hand on your neck.
"Hmm?" he whispers, "Why would I do that?" He tightens his grip, making it harder for you to breathe. You gasp, your eyes locking with his.
"I am sorry," you cry and pout, hips slamming against his pubis while riding him.
"Apologizing?" He loosens his grip, allowing you to breathe easier. "Now that's better." He watches you, how you are engulfing his cock with each movement.
"Still want my kiss?" He taunts, as he release his grip on your neck.
"Yes.. please.. Kiss me"
Toji captures your lips, his tongue invading your mouth. You moan, wrapping your arms around his neck. He groans, the taste of your submission sweet. "Mmm, such a good slave." He pulls away, "Appology accepted". His mouth leans in to latch onto one of your breasts, tongue circling your nipples and his cheeks hollowing.
Unable to control yourself you squirt all over him. He grunts at your sudden tightness. "What the fuck- so tight ah.." He removes his dick from you, putting you on your knees and hands. "Pissing like a dog? Want me to piss on you too?"
"S-sorry master, I was unable to control myself", your eyes rolled from the experience, collapsing on the bed.
Toji spanks your ass, bringing you to your knees. He lines up his dick to your entrance, holding you steady. "Ya looking like a used slut." His dick slides in your entrance, stretching you again. You whine and whimper, thighs shaking from the ecounters before.
"So sensitive..", Toji scoffs.
"Please .. I am near .. fuck me harder", your voice pleading, eyes rolled, drools driping down your chin.
Toji's thrusts speed up, taking you from behind. "Such an Insatiable cum slut " He groans, his voice hoarse. "Tell me how much you want my cum inside you."
"Fill me up pls.... I am master Toji's cumdump"
Toji roars, slamming into you. "Mmm, yes. My cum dump bitch." He releases inside you, feeling you cum and contract around his dick. He pulls out, watching his seed dripping out of you. His eyes lingered over your pussy, "Maybe you deserve a reward after all."
Your whole body convulses. Toji pulls himself out, "Do you want the reward?"
"Please.. reward me master .. I am your good slave," you falter.
Toji smiles, "Very well, my pet. You're a good slave then" He licks your thighs "Mmm, I love you. But if you dare to disappoint me again..." His teeth nibbling on your clit, making you moan loudly. "You know where you stand." He coos and blows on your wetness, licking you clean. Your body trembles, his tongue exploring your folds.
Toji moans, licking your and his cum.. He suckles your clit, his tongue dancing around. A huge cum drop falls on his tongue which he thrusts inside you again.
"Such a good slave, you'll give me a healthy pup" He hums, kissing your inner thighs. Your breath hitches, your orgasm nearing.
Unable to make out anything, you keep taking the pleasure he gives you.
Toji chuckles, his pace unrelenting. "Make me feel needed, slut" He tongue flicks your clit, you shaking. "Cum for me girl" He pinches your clit, your juice flowing freely. "Ahh, so fucking delicious..."
"Gonna cum .. Love you Toji .. a-ah", you blabber. "Yes, my whore. Go ahead" He growls, licking your juice dripping on his lips. Your thighs wrap around him, cumming again. He licks your cum from his tongue, your legs trembling.
"Good girl". He kisses your neck then pulling you closer to his dick.
"Clean your mess from it" He whispers.
Toji breathes heavily, your mouth enveloping his half-hardened dick. It gets hard again, "Mmm, yes, clean it nicely" He cups your head, his shaft coats in your saliva. "Like that, slut" His hand affectionately messes your hair, your moaning muffled. "So good... God.. I should have done this a lot earlier." He watched you swallow his dickhead, your saliva running down your chin. He laughs, his breaths hitched.
You suck on his balls while he strokes his length, "You know how to make a man happy" he whispers. He pulls you by your hair rubbing his dick on your cheeks.
He leans back, hips jerking. "Mmm, shoot!", his cum splattering across your face, your tongue sticking out, trying to catch some cum drops. He smiles, wiping your face.
"Mmm, so obedient, my little cum dump" He whispers, kissing your lips. "You did great today and if you dare to mistreat me again.."
"I will put you in your place.. Like how I did today."
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DIVIDERS FROM @/cafekitsune
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niningtori · 2 days
Text
make you cry | part one
pairing: beomgyu x you
summary: beomgyu is your manwhore best friend who you've been secretly in love with for years. one night, he asks you to blur the lines between friendship and physical intimacy for his own convenience.
genre: ANGST, romance, smut (mdni), fwb
warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, creampie, dom!gyu, eventual sub!gyu, fingering (vaginal), dacryphilia, dirty talk, praise, if i missed anything lmk!
word count: 4.2k
notes: hi friends! i'm not completely satisfied with this, but i'd rather it be done than sitting in my drafts. pls don't be mean ;_;
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being in love with your best friend is not for the faint of heart, you think. in some cases, it’s the easiest thing in the world, but beomgyu makes it difficult. he’s not a bad guy, at least not deep down, but as you watch him break the heart of another notch in his belt, you can’t help but shiver at the fact that he’d very easily do the same to you if you gave him that chance. not that you ever will, that is, but the thought still remains.
you met in grade school. for you, it was a classic case of love at first sight. you had just fallen off the swingset and the teacher had yet to notice you, so you were crying alone when he came up to you with a dinosaur bandaid in tow. he looked like an angel with the sun encircling him, and even as a child, you thought he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen as he held his little hand out for you to grasp. you had no chance to steel your heart when he asked you if you wanted to be friends, and after that, the rest is history. 
that was years ago, but the image of him holding out his hand is engraved in your bones. you think about it even now as you watch him make the poor, unfortunate girl in front of you bawl like a baby. she asks him why he's doing this, what she did wrong, how she can fix it to make him stay. but he's dead set on breaking her heart tonight. and you'll be the one who takes his tipsy ass home after he's done ruining this girl’s perception of love. you’re nothing more than a glorified lackey and enabler, but that's just how it is.
“god, i don’t know why they can never just let go. they always have to make it so hard,” he grumbles in the passenger’s seat of your care. he seems more annoyed than genuinely upset and you can’t help but to feel for the girl who he just unceremoniously dumped in the middle of a house party, so you speak up for once.
“it’s not her fault, beoms. she just really likes you,” you reason. not that it matters, anyway, but you feel better after speaking your mind.
“so it’s my fault? i just don’t get it. i told her no strings attached from the beginning. the fact that she took it seriously is her own problem.” well, nevermind about feeling better. you feel even worse for her now.
“it’s hard not to get attached to you,” you mumble.
“what?” he asks, not even really paying attention to what you’re saying, but still asking for the sake of being (what he thinks is) polite.
“no, it’s nothing,” you reply quickly.
“mmm,” he nods, completely preoccupied with his own issues to really give a fuck about what you have to say. then, as if by a stroke of genius, he says his next words without much thought.
“i just thought of something! you would never act like that with me, would you?” you can’t help but scowl. of course you’d act like that. you’re a normal human being with normal feelings. you’ve already fallen for beomgyu without the physical intimacy, so you can’t imagine how you’d act if you actually had sex with him. but you can’t tell him that, or else he’d start suspecting something.
“i guess not,” you sigh. 
“then why don’t we hook up instead?” he asks, genuinely earnest. 
“no,” you say simply.
“why not?” he frowns, somewhat offended.
“i’m not interested,” you shrug. you don’t realize that your indifference has the opposite effect on beomgyu. what he perceives as your disgust only interests him more.
“c’mon, i’d definitely show you a good time,” he argues.
“i’m fine, thanks.” 
“no, you’re not fine. you haven’t slept with anybody in months. not since what’s-his-name, right? it’s the perfect deal. i’ll give you the time of your life and i’ll get to fuck without any feelings involved.” you try your hardest not to say it’s too late for that. those words will never leave your mouth, though. or else he’d drop you like a hot potato.
“i said no and i mean no. besides, i kind of like somebody right now.” you’re not lying, really. you truly do like, even love, somebody right now, and he’s sitting right next to you.
“who is he?” he asks. “actually, your taste in men is so shit, i don't even wanna know.” usually, that would hurt your feelings, but this whole situation is so fucked up you can’t even find it in you to stifle your laugh. 
“true.” he cocks an eyebrow at your answer. you should, in theory, vehemently deny this. just how shitty is this guy for you to not even put up a fight? 
“okay, i lied. now i really wanna know. who is he? yeonjun?” he asks. you giggle even more.
“no. yeonjun is sweet, but no. and i’m not telling you, so you should give up.” 
“you think yeonjun is sweet in comparison? damn, this guy must be fucking scum,” he laughs. you can’t help but shake your head with an airy laugh of your own. yeah, he’s so awful he even makes yeonjun look sweet. at least it seems like yeonjun has a conscience when he fucks somebody over. beomgyu, for the most part, has none.
“he’s not all bad,” you say softly, still smiling and resting your head on the headrest of your car. 
“but still bad,” he argues. 
“mhmm,” you hum. “still bad.”
-
beomgyu doesn’t mention hooking up again after that, and for that you are thankful, you think. is there a part of you that regrets not saying yes? in a way, you do. who wouldn’t want to be even closer to the one they love? but you know the closeness would be a lie. even if you were in closer proximity physically, he’d still be far away emotionally. too far to ever catch him. and so you sit at the counter of this shitty bar and watch him try to woo one of the prettiest girls you’ve ever seen, and by the looks of it, it’s working. you smile bitterly and down another shot, making your stomach feel hotter and hotter. you know that by the end of the night, you’ll feel sick, but you’d rather be physically sick and drunk rather than emotionally sick and sober. 
“you okay?” kai asks, sliding into the seat next to yours and cutting into your daze with ease. 
“aren’t i always?” you answer with a wry smile.
“it’s that bad, huh?” he asks. beomgyu is your best friend, sure, but kai is the only person in the world who knows about your feelings for him. he also feels like the only person in the world who would understand them. 
“yeah, it is,” you mumble, downing yet another drink as you watch beomgyu grinding on the girl salaciously. 
“wanna get out of here?” he asks sympathetically. you should say no. beomgyu will be angry that you left  him, even if he’d ditch you in a heartbeat to get laid. but now, as you watch him shoving his tongue in the red-lipped mouth of the girl who will now be the impossible standard you’ll hold yourself to from hereon out, you can’t bring yourself to care.
“i do,” you smile, for real this time, and his grin matches yours.
you’re so drunk, you barely remember how you got home, but you’re here and so is hyuka. you don’t cry, even if he kind of wishes you would just so you could let it all out. you laugh, even, as he tells his dorky jokes and beats your ass in mario kart. things are going so well, you don’t even hear the pounding on your door until kai says something about it.
“i’ll get it,” he says soothingly when you unsteadily try to stand up.
“thanks, hyuka,” you smile. and that smile stays planted on your face until you see who’s at the door. beomgyu. and by the looks of it, he’s pissed.
“what the fuck is your problem?! how could you just leave me there alone?” he asks as soon as he’s let in. your face sinks and all prior happiness is washed away in an instant.
“you weren’t alone,” kai cuts in defensively. “she was alone until i came and got her.” beomgyu is actually a little embarrassed by this blatant callout, but he’d sooner die than admit it.
“well, she should’ve said something, at least,” he counters, face still hot and voice still as loud as ever.
“i thought you were going home with that girl,” you reply meekly. 
“and you couldn’t just ask?!” he snaps. 
“you’re being an asshole,” kai argues. “nobody wants to watch you tonguing down some random girl, and she’s not your babysitter.” the room is deathly quiet after this. beomgyu is fishing for words, but he’s too drunk to quite think of any at the moment. he wishes he were sober so he could put kai in his place, but the words never come. all he knows is he’s pissed beyond anything he can properly articulate and it’s driving him crazy. 
“you’re drunk,” kai adds sternly. “go home.” 
“hyuka, it's okay,” you say gently. “he's too drunk for that. he can crash on the couch.” beomgyu doesn't know why, but he scowls at the nickname.
“but —”
“it's okay,” you repeat. kai’s face looks torn. 
“alright, then i'll head out,” he relents after a few seconds. “the both of you just need some sleep,” he says with a sharp glance towards beomgyu, who is still fuming, by the way.
“thank you,” you say with a terse smile. he returns it with a smile of his own and shuts the door behind him. beomgyu watches the entire interaction and somehow feels even worse.
“what the fuck was that? is he the guy you’re hung up on or something?” 
“no!” you exclaim incredulously. “hyuka is a nice guy, and he’s just… helping me with some things right now.” you’re not the most eloquent person on a good day, much less while drunk, so that’s all you can really say at the moment.
“what ‘things’ could he possibly be helping you with?” he snaps before realization dawns on him. “you told him about that guy, didn’t you?! you can tell him but you can’t tell me?” 
“he… he just understands,” you say. you knew beomgyu wouldn’t just let this shit go and be done with it. he’s like a child finding out his dog likes somebody better than he likes him, and it’s exhausting.
“are you sleeping with him?” 
“what, no!”  you say firmly. 
“you are, aren’t you?” he sneers. “you won’t let me touch you, but you’re letting him?” 
“is it so hard to believe that a man just wants to be my friend without wanting to fuck me?” truthfully, yes. you’re good looking and his experience tells him that men always harbor those intentions. well, he does, at least. and for some reason, as he looks at you in your big t-shirt and sweatpants, those intentions are brewing even more. 
“beomgyu?” you ask tentatively. his eyes are so intense it seems like he’s even more pissed off,  somehow. your innocent look stokes the flames of what’s already been burning for you.
as if he’s possessed, he stalks his way over to you, grabs your face before you can even react, and plants a bruising kiss on your soft lips. you gasp when he meanly takes your bottom lip between his teeth and he can’t help but chuckle. the kiss is cruel for so many reasons, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t knock you off of your feet. you’re usually so restrained around him for reasons only you and kai know, but you feel your inhibitions melt as his tongue enters your mouth. he tastes like alcohol, but then, so do you, and he doesn’t seem to mind. in fact, if his hungry kiss in any indication, he seems to love it. 
one of his hands travel under your big hoodie and he tweaks your already hardened nipple between his fingers. 
“does that feel good, baby?” he asks lowly, and you feel yourself becoming even more wet. you're too embarrassed to respond, but judging from his tone, he already knows your answer. 
his kisses are unrelenting and fierce, no gentleness or care to be seen, but you’re so sweet he can’t control himself. he’s been wanting to do this ever since he hit puberty, but you’ve never seemed interested in him for reasons he can’t understand. but now, you seem more than interested as you let him lead you to your bedroom. he lays you down on your bed and takes off your sweatpants. when he sees you, naked and glistening just from a few touches, he licks his lips in anticipation.
“all this from a few kisses?” he teases, rubbing his fingers up and down your slit. you can do nothing but gasp in response as he pushes one of his long, calloused fingers into your heat.
“s-so tight, it’s sucking me in,” he moans. “i can’t wait to see how you feel around my cock.” he adds a second finger and curls, hitting your sweet spot. all you can do is moan as he takes his thumb and rolls your clit. he watches your body rise and fall with the pleasure and it fascinates him like nothing he’s ever seen. your eyes are screwed shut, but he can’t help but prod and tease to see the different facial expressions you show him. before long, he’s pounding into you. the sound of squelches mixed with your moans only goads him further and further until you’re clenching down mercilessly on his fingers.
“aww, does that feel good, baby?” he coos. “wanna feel even better?” post-release clarity should hit you right about now, but you’re only more eager when he removes his clothes. his lengthy cock, angry and reddened, springs up and slaps his stomach. you whimper at the sight and he smirks at how needy you are.
he hovers over you and slowly, agonizingly slowly, he begins to rub his stiffened length up and down your slit. 
“gyu, you need a condom —” you begin to protest.
“why? i’m clean. and i don’t fuck just anyone raw,” he argues as the head of his cock comes dangerously close to hooking on your entrance. you’ve never been able to say no to him for any meaningful amount of time, so relenting isn’t out of the ordinary for you. but more than that, his words, though unromantic, spark a bit of hope in your heart. you’re special, you think. 
“do you trust me?” he asks. 
no. not at all.
“of course.” and he pushes in. his arrogance falters as you take him in, inch by throbbing inch. it’s a tight fit, and the way you clench around the tip of his cock only drives him further and further into madness. how can you feel so good? how can this feel so perfect? 
your poor pussy is equal parts trying to suck him in and trying to resist so the intrusion is forced out. to him, it feels like heaven. 
“t-tight!” he hisses. “relax, baby, or you’re gonna break me.” for some reason, his words comfort you, allowing him smooth entry until he’s completely sheathed in you. you both moan when he completely bottoms out, balls hitting your ass in the most lewd way. his precum mixed with the result of your release seep into the bedsheets. he stays there for just a moment, pushing your hair out of your face, and his next words are uncommonly tender.
“you look so pretty like this,” he muses, and you don’t even have time to blush before he’s unsteadily pulling out, pussy pulling him back in like it never wants him to leave, then thrusting back in again. 
“oh m-my god,” he says as he begins to ram into you. “so good, baby. you’re taking me so well.” 
“b-big!” is all you can manage to say as he continues to fuck you open.
“oh baby, are you going dumb on my cock? can’t even manage to get the words out, can you? it’s okay, don’t think. i’ll take care. of. you,” he says, punctuating each word with his mean thrusts. 
you’re crying now, the pleasure too great to stifle your tears. beomgyu thinks you look absolutely lovely like this, lovelier than anyone he’s ever seen, especially when he looks at where you two are joined and watches himself enter and exit your puffy pussy. each gasp, each breathy whine you emit makes him feel crazier and crazier. he aches so much, he has no choice but to continue pounding into you until he's relieved. so he does. he’s gripping the plush of your thighs like he might die if he doesn’t have something to hold onto. 
he leans over to give you a nasty kiss, all tongue and teeth. when he parts from you, a lewd string of saliva falls from your mouths and he can’t control the chuckle that escapes him when he sees your pupils are blown out as you flounder for his lips again. 
“look, baby. look at how good i’m fucking you.” you look down and see how his cock protrudes from your tummy as he rams in and out of you. “nobody else has fucked you right, but don’t worry, i’ll make sure to fix that.” your pussy involuntarily clenches at his filthy words and it’s enough to make you come.
“c-coming!” you manage to choke out as you spasm around him, back arching deliciously. he follows soon after, thrusts becoming uneven before you feel his cum shooting inside of you.
-
fucking beomgyu comes naturally, and often. he can’t seem to keep his hands off of you. hooking up becomes almost a daily affair, but you’re so hungry for him you can’t bring yourself to protest. you fuck in his car, on his couch, over the fucking kitchen counter, even. all plans to go out with anyone else are immediately dashed in favor of being with him, instead. you feel yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with him, and even if you know, know, know it’s fruitless, you can’t help but relent when he looks at you like a man starved. 
“this can’t be good for you,” kai tells you one evening in the comfort of your apartment. it’s a rare occurrence to have a free night from beomgyu’s clutches. kai hasn’t seen you in weeks because you’ve been too “busy” with beomgyu. 
“well, i know,” you sigh, too tired to argue with him. 
“if you know, then why do you do it?” he asks tentatively. you can’t help but give him a look. 
“you know why,” you say. 
“he's just messing with your head. you know this can't end well.” you flinch at the word “end”. you know it, he knows it, beomgyu surely fucking knows it, but you can’t help but give in every time. “what are you gonna do when he inevitably fucks you over? and he will, just like always.”
“i… i’ll deal with it when the time comes,” you protest. he sees your defeated expression and lightly tilts your head so it’s resting on his shoulder. your retribution for your actions was always well on its way, but you didn’t know it would come so soon. 
you hear a key turning in the door. there’s only one person in the world you’ve given a spare to, so you aren’t surprised in the slightest when beomgyu walks in with that signature smirk on his face. he scowls a bit when he’s greeted with the scene of you and kai sitting so intimately.
“am i interrupting something?” he scoffs as you raise your head from kai’s shoulder.
“no,” kai replies before you can even fix your lips to respond. to your mild surprise, he doesn't push any further.
“whatever,” he shrugs, plopping down next to the two of you and pulling out his phone.
“wanna see this girl whose number i got today?” he asks casually, swiping through his phone eagerly. so that's why he didn't wanna meet up. your heart feels like a hole’s been blown straight through it. you and kai share a deep look, which beomgyu completely misses as he pulls up a picture of a beautiful looking girl. 
“this is her,” he says with a triumphant smirk. you don’t — can’t — respond. you just have a blank look on your face.
“what?” he asks petulantly. “she’s really pretty, look!” he insists, pulling up another picture. “she’s one of the hottest girls i’ve seen in a minute.”
any last shred of hope or dignity you have is strangled in its crib at his careless words. your eyes are hot and your stomach hurts so much you feel like you’re going to vomit. kai notices your discomfort and decides to put a stop to this once and for all.
“alright, that’s enough,” kai snaps. “nobody wants to see that shit.”
“what’s your fucking problem?” beomgyu retorts.
“my problem is that you’re a fucking moron. grow up.” beomgyu’s not one to get physical, at least not in a violent sense, but he’s on the precipice of breaking that streak at kai’s harsh words.
“stop, hyuka. it’s okay,” you say softly. beomgyu is so furious, he almost forgot you’re here, but he's genuinely confused by kai’s words.
“what's okay? what is it that you're not telling me?” beomgyu asks. 
“it's not okay, actually. he’s fucking you but he comes around and pulls this shit right in front of you?! she won’t say it, but i will.” 
“kai, don’t —” 
“she doesn’t care! no strings attached, that’s always been the deal.”
“you may be stupid as fuck, but surely you’re not that stupid,” kai sneers. “so if you say you don’t already know, you’re just a fucking liar.” beomgyu pauses at this. is he saying what he thinks he’s saying? surely you didn’t catch feelings, right? but one look at your face, and he knows kai is telling the truth. 
but why? and when?
“since when did you…”
“since always,” you say quietly. 
“oh, fuck. look, i —”
“it’s okay. i already know,” you cut in. and you do already know, but you can’t bear to hear him say it. beomgyu, in all his glory, processes this and instead of regret, all he feels is anger.
“i’m the piece of shit guy you can’t get over? are you fucking serious?”
“hyuka, you should go,” you say instead of letting him watch the melodrama unfolding before him. kai looks uncertainly between the both of you before relenting. 
“call me later, okay?” he says, wiping tears from your eyes that you didn’t realize had fallen.
“okay,” you reply with a sad smile. he sends beomgyu one last scathing look before gathering his shit and slamming the door behind him. 
“you tricked me!” beomgyu exclaims as soon as the door shuts. “i would’ve never fucked you if i knew you’d be like this.” just like everyone else. he doesn’t need to voice the last part, but you already know he wants to say it, which just hurts you even more.
“did you really not know, or were you just pretending not to know ‘cause it’d be inconvenient for you?” that shuts him up. kai was right, he’d be stupid not to know. maybe not at first, but surely along the way. surely when you’d look at him so longingly after sleeping with him, or the way you’d look so sad when he didn't stay after sex.
“listen, i’m so sorry that you’re scared, or angry, or whatever it is you’re feeling. i really am. but are you so selfish that you really think nobody else is afraid to have their heart broken? and do you think that means you’re allowed to hurt everyone else instead?” you ask quietly. every new word pierces his heart like nothing he's ever felt before. he wants to say something, but for the life of him, he can’t think of anything quite fitting. 
“i think you should leave,” you say after what feels like an eternity of silence. he looks at you with watery eyes and you almost feel guilty, but you’re through with feeling things for him that he’d never have the courtesy to feel for you. “go,” you repeat defeatedly, striding to the door and holding it open for him and he feels more and more like a rat you want to chase out of your home.
he looks like he wants to say something, but one look at you tells him you’re done listening. with heavy feet and an even heavier heart, he heads through the doorway, pausing only before he’s about to cross the threshold. he has a sinking feeling in his gut that tells him this is probably the last time he’ll be here. 
“are we still friends after this?” he asks lowly, eyes wide and more desperate than you’ve ever seen them. 
“no,” you say simply, and shut the door.
notes: not a ton of smut in this part, but i think the next part will have more i fear.
taglist: @my313 @superbbananananana @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @everythingvirgoes @beomnoullitheorem @sunny4cast
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woso-dreamzzz · 15 hours
Text
Surgery VII
Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader
Summary: You get in trouble
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"Have to be quiet," You whisper as you clip Bagheera's harness on.
It was one of the first things your Mami taught you when you were little.
Bagheera mews at you as you pick her up, pushing her into your backpack. You zip it up but still leave a bit of it open so she can breathe in fresh air. That was another thing Mami taught you.
Animals must have little holes in so they can breathe but not big enough holes that they can escape.
"I've got it, cub," Ingrid says, reaching for your bag but you push her hand away.
"I'm a big girl," You tell her, pulling your backpack on all by yourself," Can carry it myself."
Ingrid laughs, fondly ruffling your mane. "Look at you," She says," So grown up."
"I know."
Your bag is a little heavier than usual but you're very determined. You think if you can prove that you can look after Bagheera by yourself than Ingrid will finally take you to the shelter so you can get your own cat.
"Whoa," Mami laughs as you get out of the car with your backpack," Look at you go, cub. So independent all of a sudden."
"I'm a big girl," You tell Mami just like you told Ingrid.
"Don't grow up too fast," Mami says," Or you'll have to move out soon."
You give her a deadpan stare. "Don't be silly, Mami."
You run off after that. You know Mami and Ingrid are going straight to the field so you duck around the corner and pull Bagheera out of your bag.
She mews at you a few times as you finally work out how to clip her leash to your little belt loops. That means she can't wander off without you.
You're very proud of yourself as you make your way into the locker room, chest puffed out.
"Oh, cub," Patri groans with a little laugh," What have you done?"
You frown. "Nothing!"
"Having the cat doesn't look like nothing," Patri says, very pointedly looking at Bagheera."
"We're having a day out!" You announce," So Ingrid knows I can have a ginger cat too!"
Patri full on laughs now. "You're very sneaky. How did you manage to pull this off?"
"I'm mature," You insist," And me and Bagheera are friends!"
"Come on," Patri says," Let's go to the pitch and see what your mums think of this."
"I want a ginger cat," You say as Patri escorts you to the pitch," And I want it to have a proper tail. Bagheera's got a stumpy tail. I want my cat to have a proper one."
"Cub!" Ingrid's voice yells across the pitch and you instantly know you're in trouble. Ingrid doesn't use that voice a lot with you, her grumpy in trouble voice but she's using it on you now. "Why is Bagheera here?!"
Mami looks angry too, arms crossed over her chest and Patri pushes you forward.
"Tell them what you told me."
You take a big breath. "Showing that I can have a cat too."
"Cub," Ingrid says sternly and you wilt.
You sniffle a little as your throat goes all tight like it does when you're about to cry. "I really want a cat, Mama," You say morosely, digging the tip of your shoe into the ground," Just trying to prove I can look after one."
Ingrid massages her temple in annoyance.
"Cub," Mami says sternly," What you've done is very, very naughty. Do you understand that?"
"Sorry, Mami."
"Very naughty," Mami insists," You could have gotten Bagheera very hurt."
"Sorry."
She takes your hand and leads you over to the corner of the pitch, turning you around so you can't see the rest of the team.
"You're four years old now so that means four minutes in time out. Sit here and think about what you've done."
"I'm sorry, Mami!"
"I know but you're still going in timeout."
Mami doesn't take Bagheera from you and she curls up on your lap as you sit there.
You know you sit there for four minutes but it feels like a lot longer until Mami and Ingrid come over.
They sit in front of you.
"You were very, very naughty," Ingrid says to you," Not telling us you took Bagheera could have gotten her very hurt. Do you understand that?"
You nod.
"That wasn't very responsible," She continues," And it doesn't make me think you deserve a cat of your own."
You burst into tears. "I'm sorry, Mama! I was gonna look after her promise!"
You turn your bag upside down and shake it.
Treats for Bagheera fall out as well as a bottle of water and the collapsible bowl you use for Bagheera's beach trips. You've got a blanket too and toys for if she gets bored.
"Oh, cub," Mami says as she looks at everything.
"Left my bag a little bit open so she could breathe," You insist," And made sure it didn't fall in the car!"
Ingrid still looks mad though. "Cub," She says," Bagheera is a very special part of the family. She might have been scared all alone in your bag, did you think of that?"
You shake your head. "I'm sorry." All you can do is keep apologising.
"I can see that but it was still very naughty of you. Do you understand why?"
You nod.
"Why?"
"'Cause Bagheera could have gotten hurt and I should have told you and Mami."
"Well done for saying sorry," Ingrid says eventually," And well done for knowing what you did was wrong. You did a good job in making sure to pack everything Bagheera will need today."
"We can't do much now that Bagheera is here," Mami continues," So you'll have to take care of her today."
You nod. "I will, Mami."
"And when we get home, we'll discuss your own cat," Ingrid says.
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dearaceofhearts · 3 days
Text
you walk out after an argument
characters: husk, alastor, angel dust, vox, lucifer word count: 2.9k genre: angst to fluff summary: after an argument with them, you walk out and don't come back for a few days. how do they react? author's note: hello yes this is my first time actually posting something. erm, i think i wrote too much (sorry) but hey we roll with it!! also dude i accidentally posted this before it was ready twice and i had a heart attack oh my god. anyways i don't think vox's is really fluff (oops) but everyone else's is
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♡ husk
when you slam the door shut on your way out, husk lets out a low grumble, setting down the glass he was cleaning onto the bar counter with a quiet sigh. it was one of the first arguments you'd had in a long time. although he wasn't usually one to get riled up so easily, the two of you knew each other well enough to know just what buttons to push to get under the other's skin. that, alongside him already having a bad day, had been a recipe for disaster.
in the few days that pass by, it's hard to tell just how affected he is by your absence since he does a pretty good job of keeping a cool facade. to anyone looking, he wouldn't appear any different than usual, just idly cleaning bottles as he always does.
but it's the small things that give away just how much husk cares and worries for you, like how his eyes flicker towards the door whenever someone comes in, his ears perking up slightly. he hates the twinge of disappointment that follows when it's not you, a slight scowl curling at his lips as he takes a swig of alcohol from one of the many bottles on the shelves of the bar. he misses talking to you. you're his favourite drinking buddy, after all.
his gaze always seems to wander back to the front door of the hotel, lingering for just a little too long before he eventually turns back to the bar, expression settling back into its usual grouchiness. but underneath that lies a hint of worry that gnaws at him in the back of his mind, even though he knows you're more than capable of handling yourself. at the end of the day, you can never be too careful in hell.
husk won't force you to come back, but he just wants to know that you're safe and sound. he trusts that you'll come back when you're ready so that the two of you can talk it over and hopefully resolve things. he doesn't want to leave it like this, and he's sure you don't either. you mean a lot more to him than he'd like to admit.
when you decide to finally return to the hotel, he pauses upon catching sight of you stepping through the doorway. he can't help the small wave of relief that washes over him, though you wouldn't be able to tell by the way he smoothly resumes restocking the bar. when you approach the counter, he looks up, giving you a short nod. "hey." he greets you, tone surprisingly softer than you're used to, "you're back."
husk's not really the type to beat around the bush, so he'd likely address the argument pretty quickly. he's also not particularly one for verbal apologies, so he'd probably be more willing to show it through his actions. you see it in the way he lets you cling to him a little longer than he normally does, leaning into him as he wordlessly holds you, his tail loosely curling around your leg. if you listen closely, you can hear some faint purring, too. it makes you smile slightly.
"alright, 'nuff of this sappy stuff." husk grumbles after a few more moments, patting your back gently before pulling back. "i'd kill for a drink right now. care to join me?" he raises a brow, a familiar glint in his eyes as he slides back behind the counter, already moving to make what he knows is your favourite drink.
you grin as you meet his eyes, expression softening. "of course. i'd love nothing more."
♡ alastor
"you're not listening, al." you murmur, exhaling quietly. this makes him pause for a moment, head tilted. your voice sounds different to what he's used to — you're not even angry, no — you just sound... tired. the argument had been going on for a while, and neither of you were getting through to the other.
when you move to leave, he makes no move to stop you, simply watching you with an intent gaze. his voice rings out clear as day in the empty silence. "where do you think you're going, my dear?"
he falters ever so slightly when you turn back to face him with a sturdy, stern gaze, responding with a flatly spoken "out", leaving no room for anything more to be said before closing the door behind you with a quiet click.
alastor won't chase after you, because he expects that you'll come back to him of your own accord. to him, it's basically guaranteed how this'll play out. he's used to demons falling right into his hands without having to exert much effort on his end, and believes that this would be no different.
so when a few days pass by with you not approaching him at all, he finds himself slightly irritated and mildly perplexed, eyes narrowed as his clawed finger taps against his cane with idle impatience. why haven't you sought him out yet?
he's seen you around the hotel, but you've never once acknowledged his presence even if the two of you were in the same room, breezing past him while he's left staring, watching you converse with everyone except him. his eye twitches in irritation, the perpetual smile on his lips strained.
...eventually, after playing a long waiting game to no avail, he decides that perhaps rosie would be able to offer some helpful advice on how to approach this situation, since he's not used to actually handling delicate emotional matters without the— well, the manipulation and deal-making.
one of the main issues is his massive ego. it's that unfaltering pride that gets in the way of him apologising. he may be the radio demon, but all that power can't help him here. and he'd never openly admit to such, but he truly is at somewhat of a loss here. he's already tried most things that he's sure would usually make you forgive him, though for a reason unbeknownst to him, it's not working this time.
"oh alastor," rosie shakes her head with a small huff, "a lady's heart is to be treated with care." she lends some further words of wisdom and encouragement that he listens to with great attentiveness, since he does (begrudgingly) enjoy your company, and it would be a shame if it was lost over such a, in his eyes, trivial matter.
upon his return to the hotel, he manages to get you to sit down with him (after much polite pestering and insistence) to have a chat over some tea. when all is said and done, the two of you sit in a comfortable silence. you sip your tea, watching the blazing fires of hell from the balcony.
"refill?" alastor offers, glancing at you briefly through a sip of his own tea.
"much appreciated." you hum, legs crossed as you throw him a small, slack smile.
♡ angel dust
his frustration slowly fizzles out as the door closes behind you, and the guilt slowly starts to creep in. he knows he shouldn't have said what he did, and he wants nothing more than to apologise and make it up to you — but he understands that it's probably better to give you some time to cool off before trying to approach you again.
despite the argument and the harsh words exchanged between you, the fact that he cares for you with his whole heart will never change, and he hopes you know that too.
while you're away, angel always finds his thoughts drifting to you, wondering how you're doing. are you eating okay? are you drinking enough? sleeping enough? with a shake of his head and a small sigh, he tries his best to return his focus back to the task at hand, whatever it may be.
he knows you can take care of yourself perfectly fine, but he just... misses you. the guilt eats away at him when he's reminded of the look on your face when you left, the brief glimmer of hurt in your eyes before you masked it with anger and tore your gaze away.
one particular night, angel heads over to your room in the hotel out of habit, not really thinking about it when he raises a fist to knock on the door. he had been hoping to spend some time with you, since today had been a particularly rough day for him. he's also been craving for one of your sleepover nights for a while, those nights where you two would stay up to talk about anything and everything until dawn rises. those times were comforting for him — a rare moment of respite in his life.
but then he stops abruptly, remembering that you're not there. he lets his hand fall back to his side, expression quietly downcast. he stands alone in the silent, empty hallway. has it always been this cold?
after a few days, he's just about damn ready to go looking for you, making his way down the stairs as he prepares to head out. he's so focused that he almost misses the sight of you seemingly casually sitting at the bar, nursing a drink in your hands whilst exchanging low murmurs with husk.
he freezes momentarily, taking a deep breath. while he mentally debates with himself whether to approach you or not, husk notices him hesitating on the staircase. he catches angel's gaze, giving him a subtle nod. that's all the affirmation angel needs.
he slides on his usual relaxed demeanour, though it's a little weaker than normal, as he approaches you. he's admittedly a little nervous, but he's determined to work things out with you. he puts a gentle hand on your shoulder to catch your attention. "hey, darlin'. can i talk to you for a minute?"
the two of you head back to your room, where heartfelt apologies are exchanged and a long overdue conversation takes place. at some point during the talk, his hand had found its way on top of yours, thumb brushing over your skin gently. at the end of it all, he gives you a small, content smile. "...baby, you have no idea just how much i adore you." he whispers into the quiet, running his fingers through your hair comfortingly as your head rests on his shoulder.
it was an unspoken agreement that tonight was going to be a sleepover night. prepare for lots of cuddling and gentle, soft kisses.
♡ vox
he's the type to go "ha, see if i care!" when you leave, but he'll still check on you occasionally through the various cameras and electronics around the city — he swears it's just because he's making sure the new limited edition voxtek product he had given to you isn't damaged.
(...it's totally because he's looking out for you, by the way. even if it's only a little. you are his darling, after all. and uh, you'll never know what happened to that guy who tried to hit on you that one time).
(vox made sure not even a trace of that bastard remained).
his obnoxious pride makes him reluctant to reach out first. that, and he's a petty little shit. so everyone around him, whether that be the other vees or his employees, is stuck dealing with his foul mood. he's become even more irritable and susceptible to lashing out than usual since you left.
he'd rather die than admit it, but you were a calming presence in his life that he hadn't realised he needed until you were gone. he hates just how much power you have over him, though you may or may not realise it. he's supposed to be the one in charge. when did you manage to sneak into his heart? his mind is occupied with thoughts of you.
and it only frustrates him more, because you're not here.
all his employees are left on edge, even more so when he takes his anger out on some poor soul who had gotten the numbers wrong on the report they handed in. "clean this mess up." vox snaps, glowering as he fixes the cuffs of his sleeves. the demon at the door hurriedly moves to do as he says, not wanting to risk meeting the same fate.
"what? what are you looking at?" he turns, eyes narrowing at the rest of the employees who flinch, hastily turning their eyes back to the screens in front of them. "get back to work." he mutters sharply, an unspoken threat in his words.
his volatile temperament goes on for a while, until velvette decides she's finally had enough and sends you a (not so) polite text to resolve your little lover's spat before she takes matters into her own hands.
meanwhile, vox is in his office. nothing seems to be going his way, and he's just about to blow another fuse when you nonchalantly throw open the doors, inviting yourself in. he freezes, staring at you for a few moments. you raise a brow. "...so. i heard you were throwing another hissy fit."
vox scowls at that, grumbling under his breath. "oh yeah? and what'd you come back for, you prissy little princess?" he sneers, clawed fingers digging into the desk with a quiet screech. "couldn't go without me for long, huh?"
"ha. you wish that was the case." you scoff, rolling your eyes with a half-amused, irked smile curling at your lips. things escalate into another argument pretty quickly, with the two of you at each other's throats. he towers over you, eyes narrowing as his grin widens in mild irritation.
it's a back and forth for quite some time, until you get sick of it and grab him by the collar of his shirt, yanking him closer until you're glaring at one another face to face. "what the fuck do you think you're—" he starts, but he's quickly cut off when your lips crash into his. vox is stunned for a few moments but soon snaps out of it, swiftly returning your kiss with equal, if not more, ferocity and intensity.
"finally got you to shut up." you murmur, grinning as you part to catch your breath and release his shirt from your grasp. before you can pull back completely, however, his hand reaches up to rest against the back of your neck, the other firmly on your waist. it takes another long, drawn-out kiss for him to finally let you go — though not really, since he's still holding you close in his arms.
"...that was hot." he whispers breathlessly, staring down at you with a somewhat satisfied glint in his eyes. but you both know that there's more to come.
suffice to say, the two of you sorted things out.
♡ lucifer
he would regret everything almost instantly. lucifer realises just how badly he fucked up when you leave without looking back. he's not even quite sure what happened as he stands alone in the room, blinking as he's left to process everything on his own. his mind is a jumbled mess, and he can't think clearly.
all he can feel is a suffocating rush of fear as he snaps out of his daze and hurries after you, desperate to find you before you're gone. he doesn't want to take his chances. what if you don't come back? what if—
he had said things that he didn't mean, and now the weight of it all feels crushing on his shoulders. he's torn between wanting to reach out to apologise and giving you time to cool down. he doesn't want to be a bother, but also really wants to make things up to you.
most of all, he just wants reassurance that you'll come back to him and that he hasn't messed things up for good. he doesn't want to lose you. you're too precious to him for that, and he's mentally kicking himself for ever making you question your importance to him for even a second.
thankfully, you haven't gone too far so he's able to catch up to you, taking a hold of your wrist firmly. however, when you turn to look at him, he falters, the words dying in his throat. he swallows, softly clearing his throat as he scrambles to say something, anything to stop you from leaving. to reaffirm his love for you.
"...sweetheart, i'm so sorry," he whispers, expression twisted and heart heavy with remorse and sorrow as he brings you close, grip subconsciously tightening because he's afraid to let you go. "i'll do anything, i'll make it up to you, i—" he trails off, burying his face into your shoulder, "just, please... don't leave. i'm sorry."
you really can't stay mad at him for too long after seeing his genuine sincerity. he acknowledges his wrongs, wanting nothing more than to make up for his mistakes and make you feel as appreciated and cared for as you've made him feel over the course of you two knowing each other. you sigh gently, thumb lightly brushing over his cheek. "...alright, silly. let's go home."
his eyes light up at that, and he's reminded of just how grateful he is to have you here by his side as you guys make your way home together. he holds your hand the entire time.
after the two of you make up, you find that he'll leave little gifts and cute trinkets around for you despite your gentle assurances that he doesn't have to. he also gives you lots of forehead kisses. he just wants to make sure you never forget how much he loves you, and that you mean the world to him.
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© dearaceofhearts ー all rights reserved. please do not steal, use or modify my works!
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a-b-riddle · 2 days
Text
Hear me out, but obsessed Simon Riley x reader.
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When you’re accused of being a traitor, Simon doesn’t hesitate in getting to work.
Even though you handed over all of your passwords, given them access to anything and everything they him immediately, it did nothing to help. You were going to be crucified.
Price and Laswell had already made the call. A call Simon couldn’t stand by and let happen.
It’s not that Simon believed you when you tried to prove you weren’t the leak.
He simply didn’t care if you were.
He didn't care if you had betrayed them. He didn't care if your innocent nature had truly been an act all along.
It was instinct to get you out of there. Not even for your own safety, but to insure Simon that no one could take you from him. If you remained a free agent, it was only a matter of time before they brought you in. After that, it was out of his hands. You were theres to hurt, to kill and he could do nothing to stop it. So what better way to insure that they can't take you other than taking you for himself?
He simply can’t have someone hurting his bird. So he sets the plan in motion.
Price intends on waiting for the order before executing the extraction plan. They wanted answers. How much did you tell Makarov? What did he know?
Simon was a step ahead. It was easy enough hiding in your garage, waiting for you to come home. The darkness of the night had aided him. You were blindly walking to the door connecting to your kitchen before you felt it. The gloved hand around your mouth and the sharp pinch in your neck.
When you wake up chained to a bed in a dark room, you knew you were as good as dead. They had taken you. This was it and you couldn't plead your case anymore than you already had. All your efforts in trying to prove your innocence were futile.
When Simon stepped in, still in his tactical gear your heart sank. He still had on his mask. Fully equipped. The knives on his side gleaming menacingly as the one light in your cell shined down on him. You swore that you would never betray him, the 141 or Laswell.
“Simon,” you begged already scurrying farther back toward the headboard, trying to create more distance. “I didn’t do it. I swear.” He didn’t stop his slow steps. Even as you began to cry. Even as you curled your body into a tight ball.
You sobbed as you pleaded for mercy, begging for your life. Your shaking violently as you felt him get on the bed. The frame creaking under his weight. You closed your eyes, turning your head away as you readied your self for the final blow to come. Wordlessly began unlocking the metal cuffs.
"Shhh," he soothed. "None of that now." He took your wrists in his hand before softly running his thumbs where the metal cuffs had left an imprint. “Couldn’t have you running off.” He explained, his tone... gentle. Speaking to you as if you were child. "That sedative can give you a pretty rough wake up call. Didn't need you hurtin' yourself. Needed to have a chat first.” He went on to explain you were in his home. Where he wouldn’t disclose. Only that you were safe.
You were safe.
You weren't going to be tortured.
You weren't going to be killed for something you didn't do. Your eyes filled with tears as you realized he was on your side. “You believe me.” You said, the tears resuming for a completely didn't reason. Relief flooded you and you had to stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him.
“No,” his correction made your heart drop into your stomach.
"But..." You press your back hard against the wooden headboard. There's no where else to go. Nowhere else to run. "You said I was safe." He sighed. Tears flowed down your cheeks as he put his hand gently where your neck and jaw me.
"You are safe." But, if he didn’t believe you... why were you here? “I don’t care if you did it. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He reassured, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. Then he spoke so softly, you could have sworn he was talking more to himself than he was you. “Not going to let anything hurt you.”
It took you a moment to process it.
Simon had taken you... You were in his home and no one knew you were here. You didn't even know where exactly you were.
And Simon was touching you.
He was touching you. After years of working together, Simon was caressing your cheek. Showing such softness that it actually scared you. He took note of how he could feel your heart rate even through his glove.
"Why?"
“I’m protecting you.” He said, growing irritated that you weren't getting it. “Do you have any idea what they would have done to you?" He asked rhetorically, waiting rather patiently for you to be thanking him for saving you.
"Do..." Your head began to spin, trying to pull your mind away from all the possibilities on what could have happened. "Do I have to stay here?" You asked.
Simon was a patient man, but you beginning to test that patience. He let out a huff before pulling his hand away and placing it on your bare knee.
"Just until it all gets sorted." He lied, giving you a squeeze that he could only hope was reassuring. Even after they found the leak, you wouldn't be leaving him.
"Oh." You swallowed, nodding in understanding. "Okay." You let out a staggered breath trying to calm down. You were going to have to stay in this confined space, already feeling the claustrophobia creeping in as you felt the dark cement walls move in closer and closer. "Is there a bathroom I can use in here?" You asked, praying he wouldn't leave you with a bucket and a roll of toilet paper.
Simon laughed. He actually barked out a laugh, making you jump. "I meant you'll have to stay here with me." He clarified. "Not in the basement."
"Oh," the tenseness in your body seemed to ease up. "Good. It just feels..." you didn't finish. Too afraid to insult the man who quite literally held your life in his hands.
"No worries." he assured, finally taking his hand off of you to stand up. He held his palm out waiting for you to take his hand.
Without thinking twice, you did. Letting him help you stand even though your legs felt like they would give out at any minute. At the slight wobble of your knees, Simon took the liberty of scooping you up. A gasp escaping you.
Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck. Afraid that even though you had seen the man basically serve as a human battering-ram, you were afraid he would somehow drop you.
Simon's fingers ached to feel the softness of your thighs. He wanted to badly to come downstairs without his gear on. Bare himself to you. Reveal the face of the man behind the mask. Scars and all. He was worried that would have made it worse. Waking up in a basement, handcuffed to a bed with an unknown man aching to touch you.
He would show you his face soon enough. You would grow to love it. Each scar and imperfection on his face. His crooked nose and the touch of his calloused hands.
He planned to have you begging for it. To pepper kisses along his cheeks. Beg for his touch on your skin. Begging him to bury his fingers, his cock inside you. You would ache for him just as he had ached for you all this time.
You would fall as deeply as he had.
You would come to love your life with Simon.
No matter how long it took you to accept it.
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Text
I Love You, It's Ruining My Life
Pairing: Azriel x Bestfriend! Reader
Summary: Azriel and Reader have been best friends for years, and slowly Reader starts to fall for him. He eventually feels the same way, but after Reader overhears a conversation she wasn’t meant to, she has doubts about him.
Based on this request! 🩷
Warnings: angst with a happy ending, a little swearing
Work Count: 5.2k
You twisted around in front of the mirror, trying to look at the dress from every angle. “What do you think, Az?”
Your friend looked at you, his eyes trailing down your body, and wrinkled his nose. “No.”
“Really?” You faced the mirror again, cocking your head. “I think it’s pretty.”
“It cinches weirdly around your middle,” he said.
You studied yourself in the mirror again, realizing he was right. “Wow. See, this is why I bring you along. Who knew your spymaster focus would be so helpful for fashion.”
He laughed, throwing his head back against the couch he was sitting on, and you couldn’t help but smile. You always felt a twinge of pride whenever you could make the stoic shadowsinger laugh like that.
“So this one, then?” You asked, gesturing to the first dress you had tried on earlier. 
“That is the one,” he shot you a lopsided smile. “The poor fool won’t know what hit him.”
Later, you plopped down into the chair next to Azriel’s in the sitting room at the House, groaning. 
Azriel arched a brow in question. 
“You were right,” you sighed. “He was a fool.”
Az poured you some of the amber liquid he was drinking, handing the glass to you. “What kind of fool? Do I need to defend your honor?” he asked, a hard edge to his voice.
Laughing dryly, you said. “No, nothing like that. Just a lame date. I can’t believe I bought a new dress for that guy.”
He smiled sadly at you. “Hey, the right guy will go crazy for that dress.”
You winced, taking a sip of the drink. “I guess,” you grumbled.
“Come here,” he said, opening his arms. “You know I won’t let you be all grumbly by yourself.” 
Smiling faintly, you rose from your seat and settled in his lap, resting your head on his shoulder, his arms wrapping comfortingly around you. 
“When’s it gonna happen for us, Az? When do we get to find what Rhys and Feyre have?” You asked, quietly. 
He sighed, leaning his cheek into the top of your head. “I don’t know. But at least you and I are alone together.” 
You laughed, and he tightened his arms around you slightly, clearly pleased. You felt your sad heart mending slightly as your best friend in the world held you long into the night.
---
A few days later, you sighed, pushing your food around your plate at lunch in Velaris with Azriel.
Azriel watched you, those hazel eyes calculating. “You’re not still moping about that date, are you?”
“I’m not moping,” you scolded him. “And no, of course it’s not about the date. He is not worthy of my sighs.”
The side of his mouth curved into a smile. “So, what is it then?”
Shrugging noncommittally, you said, “Honestly, I don’t know. I just feel…bummed.”
That smile of his dropped, his mouth thinning into a line. “Are you done eating?”
You blinked, confused. “Yeah, I think so.”
He tossed money onto the table, nodding his head to the side, indicating it was time to go. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?” You asked, rising to follow him.
“You’ll see,” he said, slinging his arm around your shoulders as you walked. 
It took several minutes before you knew what he was planning and you grinned up at him as you realized where he was leading you. 
He smiled, kissing the top of your head as you neared your favorite ice cream shop. 
Your heart swelled as Azriel ordered your favorite ice cream. You should have known. Your parents had always taken you here when you needed a pick-me-up, and Azriel had continued the tradition, knowing it always made you feel better, at least for a little bit.
Gazing up at the man who knew you so very well, your heart began to crack.
---
Azriel wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you settled on the couch beside him, tucking you against his side as his whole family roamed around the River House. 
It had been Feyre’s idea to get everyone together for an evening, just to spend time in each other’s company. 
“How are you?” he said, eyes boring into yours. He had been extra watchful of you lately, since your mood had dimmed weeks ago. He couldn’t understand why this dark cloud had been following you around lately. It broke his heart that he couldn’t fix it.
“Good,” you murmured, smiling faintly at him. 
His brow furrowed, but before he could question you further, Cassian plopped down on the other side of you, grinning.
Cassian pulled your attention then, telling an animated story about how training had been going in the Illyrian mountains. 
Azriel wasn’t really listening, still studying you. You laughed at something that Cassian had said, the sound bright, bouncing off the walls, your smile lighting up your face. The tightness in Azriel’s chest eased a bit.
Feyre and Elain beckoned you into the kitchen then, and you followed, leaving Azriel and Cassian alone in the sitting room for the moment. 
Cassian nodded after you, shooting Azriel a knowing look. “What’s the deal with her?”
“I don’t know,” Azriel said, sighing. “She’s been… off lately.”
Cassian looked contemplative. “Have you ever thought about… you know…” he raised his eyebrows suggestively.
“What, being with her? Romantically?” Azriel furrowed his brow.
“Yeah. I mean, you guys are cuddly enough.”
“Not like that, though,” Azriel said. “No, it’s never been like that between us.”
Cassian shrugged. “Okay. But, you never thought that you might be missing out?”
Azriel thought about it for a moment, what it would be like. “I don’t know. I’ve never thought about her like that.”
“Maybe you should.”
Before Azriel could respond, Nesta stalked into the room, taking Cassian’s attention completely. 
---
It had been months since you had come home from that terrible date, since Azriel had held you that night, since your mind and your heart began to wonder.
Azriel had always been your friend. Though he was beautiful and amazing, you had never before thought about being anything other than his friend. Nothing between you had really changed at all in the last few months, and yet… 
It was Azriel’s face in your mind as you fell asleep. It was Azriel’s touches that you dreamed of, over and over again. It was Azriel, who knew you so well, who was always, always there for you, that occupied your mind day in and day out.
You knew he had sensed a shift in you. But you didn’t think he understood what that shift was. That you had, without even really realizing it, fallen in love with him. 
Cauldron, you were doomed. 
“Where did you just go?” Feyre said, bringing you out of your thoughts.
“Nowhere,” you lied.
She narrowed her eyes at you, bouncing Nyx in her lap. 
“Okay, I actually really need to talk to somebody about this. But if I tell you, you can’t tell anybody, not even Rhys.”
Her eyes widened in surprise, but she nodded in agreement. 
“I kinda have feelings for Azriel.”
Feyre bit her lip, trying to hide her surprise. “Since when?”
You shrugged. “It happened slowly. Little things started sticking out to me all of a sudden and now… Now I can’t stop thinking about him. And I don’t know what to do.”
“You could tell him how you feel,” Feyre offered, smiling softly.
You groaned. “But I don’t think he sees me that way. If I tell him, it could ruin our whole friendship.”
Feyre tilted her head, contemplating. “You think so? Even if he doesn’t feel the same way, he’s Az. I can’t imagine that he would ever abandon someone he loves for any reason.”
“I guess,” you said distantly. “But it would make things really awkward, at the very least.”
Feyre smiled. “Or, it could turn into something amazing.”
You scoffed. “With our luck in love? Unlikely.”
“Maybe nothing has worked out for you two so far because you’re supposed to be together.”
Your heart swelled at the thought, but you stomped down the hope. “Maybe,” you said, your mind wandering again. “Maybe.”
---
Your blood rushed in your ears, your body tense as you and Azriel sat together in the sitting room of the House the next evening. It physically hurt to be near him these days. Your body ached to be close to his.
“What’s up with you?” Azriel asked.
“Nothing, I just…” you trailed off, looking across the room at him, willing yourself to tell the truth. “I love you, Az.”
He smiled. “I love you, too.”
He didn’t get it. He didn’t bat an eye at you, at his friend he had loved platonically for so long. Your heart sank. 
It hurt to look at him now. You knew it couldn't be the same between you, not now that you had foolishly fallen for him. 
You took a sip of your drink, wishing it was stronger, and forced yourself through easy conversation with your best friend. 
---
“What’s wrong?” you asked him immediately upon seeing him weeks later, and Azriel couldn’t help but smile. You had always been able to sense the shift in his mood, even if things had felt… different between the two of you lately.
He sighed. “We’re unlucky in love, you and I.”
You stiffened, and he wondered if he had said something wrong, but continued. “You know, the whole Mor, Elain…thing. I’ve just been thinking about what you said that night ages ago. I just wonder when it’ll happen for us.”
Azriel’s eyes flicked to you, and you gulped, tense in a way he’d never seen when it was just the two of you. “What is it?” he asked.
“Nothing,” you said, too quickly. “I’m sorry. That you’re feeling unlucky in love.”
He lifted a brow. “Are you okay?”
You nodded then stood up quickly, walking toward the door. Azriel stood, wrapping his fingers around your wrist, pulling gently so you would turn back to face him. “Hey. Talk to me,” he said softly.
Your eyes swam with emotion, and you seemed to be pondering what to say. “I can’t talk to you about this,” you said quietly, your voice breaking.
“What do you mean?” Azriel tried to push down the hurt he felt. “We talk about everything.”
“Not this, Az,” you said sadly, before gently pulling your hand out of his grasp and disappearing down the hallway.
What the hell. 
Azriel spent nearly an hour contemplating what had just happened. Were you upset with him? Or were you just keeping something from him? If you were, why?
He ran over the last several weeks in his mind, all of his interactions with you. You had definitely been acting differently around him, sitting further away from him, not spending as much time with him one-on-one, but he assumed you would talk to him when you were ready. Evidently, you still were not ready. But, what could it possibly be that you couldn’t talk to him about it?
It was your relationships, well your lack of relationship with Mor and Elain that seemed to set this off. 
And then he remembered what Cassian had said weeks ago, that maybe he should consider you as a romantic partner. His brother was always smarter than most people gave him credit for. Did Cassian know something? Was he trying to tell Azriel?
His head spun. Did you have feelings for him?
It would actually explain a lot of your behavior for the past few weeks, especially if you thought that he didn’t feel the same way. 
Did he feel the same way?
He sat back in his chair. Why hadn’t he ever considered you before? You were beautiful, of course, and one of the very best people he had ever known. And you were his best friend, who knew him better than he knew himself, in many ways. Who he could talk to about anything. Who already loved him so much. 
Maybe he should be with you. 
He did love you, of course. So… maybe the two of you should give it a shot.
Before he could think it through, he went to your room, knocking gently. He had to know if he was right.
You answered the door in a thin night dress, your hair cascading down your shoulders. Gods, you were beautiful. What an idiot he'd been.
“Az?” You asked.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your body into his. He gauged your reaction, waiting for you to tense, but you didn't. You melted into him, placing your hand on his chest and gazing up at him with big, beautiful eyes.
Slowly, so slowly, he leaned down, and you tilted your face up to meet him, longing written all over your face. His heart rate spiked as his lips finally met yours.
The kiss was slow, sweet, exploratory. A new dance between old friends. 
You moaned slightly, twining your fingers into his hair, pulling him closer to you.
He growled, pushing you back further into your bedroom, kicking the door shut with his foot.
You had a long night ahead of you.
---
It had been about a week since you and Azriel had stepped into a new form of your relationship.
It was funny, actually. Not that much had actually changed, except you were more comfortable around him now, like you had been before the last few weeks had complicated things. The two of you spent so much time together one on one before, the only difference now was all the kissing and the bedroom activities. And how many times you would tell him that you loved him, your eyes shining with that love.
He was starting to feel like he hadn't thought it all the way through. He loved you. Of course he did. But, he was worried that your love for him was deeper. And he couldn't bear the thought of hurting you.
“Where'd your mind go, Az?” Cassian asked, and Rhysand chuckled.
“He's thinking about his new girlfriend,” Rhys grinned.
Azriel’s jaw tightened. “I'm worried,” he admitted.
“About?” Cassian asked, leaning forward, his full attention on Azriel.
“I think her feelings are deeper than mine. I'm starting to worry that I may have…” he trailed off, not wanting to admit it.
“Settled?” Rhys offered.
Azriel winced, but nodded. “Maybe.”
“What, you don't love her?” Cassian asked.
“I do. Of course I love her.”
“Well, there you go,” Cassian said, waving a hand dismissively. “I think you're overthinking this.”
“Maybe just give it time,” Rhysand said contemplatively. “You know how she is. She feels things very deeply. You might catch up to her faster than you think.”
“Maybe. I hope so,” Azriel said, his mind wandering away again, back to you. Back to the love that shone in your eyes when you looked at him.
He would have to be careful. He would not break your heart. He wouldn't be able to live with himself.
---
Years later, snuggled up to Azriel, watching children screaming and running around the River House the night before Winter Solstice, you couldn’t imagine being happier. 
Azriel and you had been talking about trying for children soon. Your heart swelled as you watched Cassian’s and Rhysand’s children grow up together, picturing your own children growing up in all this love, with cousins and aunts and uncles who would love them so much.
You smiled and Azriel kissed your temple. “I know exactly what you’re thinking,” he murmured into your skin. 
“You do not,” you smiled.
“I do,” he said, ducking his head to whisper in your ear. “You wanna try for a baby tonight?” His breath tickled your ear, his voice dipping suggestively. 
You laughed, playfully shoving him away, and he grinned. “Tonight? The one night a year we sleep under the same roof as our entire family? Absolutely not.” 
He pulled you into his lap, kissing you sweetly. “Tomorrow then?” he whispered. 
You rolled your eyes, but your heart swelled with love. “We’ll see,” you teased. 
Elain called you into the kitchen then, and you went to join her, shooting a wink at Az over your shoulder as you went. He grinned.
Your family was scattered all over the house, leaving Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel alone in the living room next to the kitchen with some of the children.
You could hear them laughing together as you helped Elain prep some of the food for the following morning. 
Your ears perked up when you heard your name and Elain shot you a curious look, clearly eavesdropping along with you.
“Remember when you two first got together?” Rhysand asked, likely to Azriel.
“Yes,” Az chuckled softly. “We’ve come a long way since then.”
“I can’t believe you were ever unsure about her,” Cassian said. “That you were worried you had settled.”
Shock jolted through your entire body, your blood pounding in your ears. You nearly dropped the plate that you were holding.
“I was a fool,” Azriel said, and you could picture him shaking his head slightly. “I can’t imagine life without her. I can’t believe I lasted so long just being her friend.”
“She’s got you wrapped around her little finger,” Rhysand teased. 
“Oh, like you’re not the same with Feyre,” Azriel shot back, and all three brothers erupted into laughter. 
You looked at Elain finally, her expression solemn, like she could see right through to your soul, how broken you felt. 
Without a word, you left the kitchen, going up to the guest room that you and Azriel occupied when you stayed with Feyre and Rhysand. 
Azriel had settled for you. He was sad that night that he first kissed you, sad about not getting a shot with Mor or Elain, so he had gone to the one person he knew would never deny him. 
All this time, all these years, he had just been settling with you because he didn’t want to be alone. You felt sick.
You had fallen in love with him, and to him you were just there. Ready for the taking. That’s why he chose you. 
Your stomach lurched, and you scrambled to the bathroom, spilling your guts, hot tears streaming down your face, sobs shaking your whole body.
---
Azriel frowned sometime later, wondering why you hadn’t come back yet. He wandered away from his brothers, finding Elain alone in the kitchen. She frowned at him as he entered, looking angrier than he had ever seen her. 
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Why don’t you go ask your wife?”
He furrowed his brow. “What do you mean? Where is she?”
“She went upstairs a while ago,” Elain said curtly, turning back to her pastries. 
Azriel’s heart pounded. What had happened to make Elain angry at him? Why had you gone upstairs without saying goodnight to anyone? 
He rushed up to the room, confused when he didn’t see you anywhere, until he heard you sniffling in the washroom. His heart lurched, panic setting in as he swung the door open, finding you lying on the floor, hugging your legs to your chest, facing away from him. 
He whispered your name, his anxiety increasing. When you didn’t answer, he sat down next to you, rubbing your back soothingly, gently setting your head into his lap. He saw your tear stained cheeks, your red eyes, and the breath was sucked right out of his lungs.
“What happened, love? What is it?” he asked, trying to sound calm.
You refused to look at him, staring ahead blankly. 
He had never seen you like this. “Honey, you’re scaring me, please tell me what’s wrong,” he said, his voice breaking. 
Finally, you sat up and walked back into the bedroom, still not looking at him. As you did, you mumbled, “you settled.”
“What?” he asked, following you into the bedroom. 
You slid under the covers, facing away from him. “You settled with me. You didn’t want to be alone, so you kissed me that night. And you settled with me.”
“I didn’t,” he said, quietly. “I did not settle. I love you. So much.”
You buried yourself further into the covers, hiding yourself from him. His heart ached. “All this time,” you whispered. “All this time. You must have been just waiting for Mor or Elain to change their minds, huh?”
“No,” he said, his voice coming out quiet and crackly. He rounded the bed, willing you to look at him. He settled on his knees, looking into your eyes, cupping your cheek with a scarred hand. “No. It was never like that. It was never about them. I love you, I always have,” he said, willing you to believe him, to feel that he meant it. 
A tear slid down your cheek. His heart broke further as he wiped it away gently with his thumb. “That’s not what Cassian said,” you whispered.
Azriel sighed, his eyes pleading. “I was worried. When we first started dating, I was worried that your feelings were deeper than mine. You always feel things so deeply, my love, and that’s one of the things that I love the most about you. I was scared that I wasn’t at the same level that you were, and you would get hurt because of it.”
“Looks like I have,” you whispered. 
“But it’s not like that now, it hasn’t been like that for years. I’ve known for so long that you are the only person in the world that I could ever want. Please,” Azriel whispered. “Please believe that I am so in love with you. It was one stupid conversation ages ago, and I’m so sorry that I hurt you, but you have to believe me. You are the love of my life.”
“I don’t know how to believe you right now,” you said quietly, your voice breaking. 
Azriel’s heart broke completely. Your face was completely blank in a way he had never seen before. “What can I do?” 
“I don’t know, Az. I need -- I need space.”
He gulped, but nodded, rising to his feet slowly “Okay. I’ll be downstairs, if you need me.”
You didn’t respond. He willed his legs to move, to leave you behind, broken, in the bed you were supposed to share.
Cassian and Rhys were the only people left downstairs by the time he made it back down, drinking and laughing together. 
One look at their brother’s face, and they went silent.
“I fucked up,” Azriel said, taking the glass from Cassian’s hand and shooting the amber liquid back in one gulp.
Cassian handed Azriel the whole bottle, who would have laughed, if he hadn’t ripped his own heart to shreds that night.
He took a swig before saying quietly, “she heard our conversation. She thinks I settled with her.”
“Shit,” Cassian said, his face falling. 
“What did you tell her?” Rhys asked, his expression solemn too.
“The truth. I was worried that in the beginning that she loved me more than I loved her, but now… Gods, I’m so in love with her. But she said she can’t trust me anymore,” he said, a tear running down his cheek before he quickly wiped it away.
His brothers were silent for a moment, thinking. 
After a moment, Cassian said, “Yeah, I don’t know how you fix this, Az.”
Azriel laughed humorlessly, taking another sip from the bottle. “Thanks.”
“She might just need some time,” Rhysand said. 
“You didn’t see her,” Azriel said, his voice breaking again. “She was…” he trailed off and shook his head. “I’ve never seen her like that. She’s wrecked. Because of me.” 
His brothers stayed up with him for a long time, trying to console him, but he eventually sent them away to their happy mates who still loved them. 
He laid on the couch, his wings drooping on the floor, his heart hurting. He hadn’t spent a night away from you since you had gotten together unless he was on a mission. This felt fundamentally wrong.
Eventually, he got up, wandering through the quiet house. He made his way into the study, digging out some paper. He had to fix this. He needed you to understand. 
---
You’d barely slept at all, and winced when the sun started lightly filtering into the room that shouldn’t be so empty. 
You didn’t know how to feel, what to think. You knew Azriel loved you. But was it enough? Was it the same, all-consuming love that you felt for him? 
How could you ever be sure?
After just one night, you missed the heat of his body against yours, hated rolling over to see the other side of the bed empty. 
Cauldron, you had been talking about children less than 12 hours ago, and now…
You shoved the thought away, your eyes still burning from crying all night. You refused to start up again. 
What a Winter Solstice this would turn out to be. Maybe you should just go home.
Alone, in the apartment that you had turned into a home with Azriel. Your bottom lip trembled, and you bit it, hard. You were strong, you would survive this. 
Whatever this ended up being.
Your mind was still spinning and you hadn’t yet gotten out of bed when there was a tentative knock on your door. 
“What?” you said, quietly, your voice not sounding like your own.
Azriel opened the door slowly, studying you as he lingered in the doorway. He looked awful, bags under his eyes, his clothes rumpled, his hair a mess, like he had run his hand through it over and over again. 
“Hey,” he said quietly. 
“Hi,” you replied timidly.
His face fell and you knew why. You had never sounded like that, not with him. 
He took a cautious step into the room, watching you closely. “I made something. For when you're ready,” he said, placing a stack of papers on the bedside table. 
You remained silent, not sure what to say. He swallowed, and turned to leave, but he stopped in the doorway, turning back to you. “I do love you. So much.”
His expression was pained, and you could tell he wanted to say more, but he just looked at you sadly before disappearing behind the door he closed behind him. 
It wasn’t until after you took a long bath that you had the courage to look at the papers he had left for you. You sat on the bed, pulling them into your lap, surprised at how many pages there were. 
On the top, in Azriel’s handwriting it said, “To My Dearest Love.”
Despite everything, you couldn’t stop the swell in your chest, the love that you felt for him. 
You were shocked as you read through page after page. He had written your story, the story of your love from his perspective, every date you had gone on, every Winter Solstice, every milestone. He detailed his thoughts as he went through each of those moments, all the things he loved about you, when he noticed new little things about you, even after being friends for so long. 
Tears were streaming down your face by the time you got to the end, where it read: 
You, my love, are everything. Everything. If you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of our lives proving it to you. 
I’m sorry that I was a fool. I’ll always be sorry that I hurt you. 
Whatever you decide, whatever you want going forward, I just hope that you’ll know how deeply I love you. 
---
Azriel had gone to the annual snowball fight with his brothers, only for a distraction. But his heart wasn’t in it, and after about ten minutes, his brothers had deemed his snowball game so pathetic that they called it off and all went inside to the cabin to drink. 
He knew he was being tragic company, so Azriel went back to the River House on his own, prepared to find a quiet corner to sulk in by himself. He hoped you had read what he stayed up all night writing, at least. Even if it didn’t change anything… 
He didn’t let himself dwell on what could happen. He didn’t know what he would do if you left him. 
He nearly fell over when he noticed that you were sitting in the living room that he had used his shadows to winnow into. 
You looked surprised too, but not unhappy. Relief flooded through him. 
“Hi,” you said, quietly. 
“Hi,” he said, his voice raspy. 
You stood up, walking toward him slowly, stopping a few steps from him. He longed to hold you, to make it all better, but he stayed where he was.
“I read it,” you whispered. 
He could only nod, his heart in his throat. 
Tears welled up in your eyes, and his heart shattered, terror flooding through him before you closed the distance between you, wrapping your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. 
He hugged you back instantly, holding you to him with crushing force. 
“I don’t want to be mad at you anymore,” you said into his chest. “I love you.”
Azriel felt like he was going to fall over, the only thing that was keeping him standing was you. “I love you,” he said, letting the tears fall freely down his cheeks, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I love you, I’m so sorry.”
You shook your head. “You don’t have to be sorry. I get it now. What you wrote -- it helped me understand. And it was beautiful.”
“I’m still sorry I hurt you,” he said, his voice cracking.
You stood on your tiptoes to kiss him gently. “It’s okay, Az. I’m okay.”
Azriel took your face in his hands gently, kissing you like his life depended on it. He felt like it did. 
You let him kiss you for ages, until the two of you realized that you were no longer alone. Azriel looked up to see that his brothers had winnowed in and were now staring at the two of you. 
“Oh, thank the Mother,” Cassian said, bracing his hands on his knees dramatically before coming up and hugging you, lifting you into the air, while Rhys laughed behind him. “You guys really had me worried.”
“I take it you worked it all out?” Rhysand asked, kissing your cheek after Cassian set you back on the ground. 
“Yeah, we’re okay now,” you said, laughing at them.
Rhysand and Cassian did look extremely relieved, which made Azriel’s heart swell. He would always be thankful for his brothers. 
---
After a surprisingly successful Winter Solstice, you and Azriel made your way back home, now cuddling together in your bed, holding each other tightly. 
Azriel kissed the top of your head. “I’ll always be so thankful for you. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”
You snuggled closer into him. “We’re both lucky.”
Azriel laughed. “Speaking of getting lucky… you want to try for that baby now?”
You gawked at him, incredulously. “What, too soon?” he asked, smirking.
“Males are ridiculous,” you scolded him. 
After a beat, Azriel risked it. “I didn’t hear a no…”
You laughed, pulling him into a kiss. “You’re so stupid.”
Azriel grinned. “Oh, I know.”
@thalia-as-blog @saltedcoffeescotch @batboyrhyrhy @1-s1mp-t00-much
739 notes · View notes
daosies · 2 days
Text
l(over)
when someone else flirts with you in front of them.
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heizou, wanderer, neuvillette ♡ gn!reader
warnings: not proofread, neuvillette may be ooc, wanderer is a little crazy 😊
notes: i played heizous hangout quest and he got me 😭😭
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frankly, heizou is amused.
"you're beautiful," some random stranger states, "do you happen to be free this weekend?"
you blink in confusion, glancing back and forth between the detective and the strange person. does he not see the way heizou's hand is linked with yours?
"well, someone clearly isn't a detective," heizou states, not bothering to lower the volume of his voice. when the person still doesn't quite understand what heizou means, he lifts your laced hands up to eye-level, emphasizing the fact that he's not letting go anytime soon.
"please don't interrupt," the stranger states, suddenly feigning ignorance to heizou's presence.
"oh!" heizou exclaims, unbothered. "sorry about that!" you can tell by the look on his face and the tone of his voice that shikanoin heizou is, in fact, not sorry. he's not sorry at all.
heizou brings the back of your hand up to his lips, staring directly at the stranger whilst doing so. still, the random man does not budge.
"what's up with this guy?" heizou mumbles, loud enough for just you to hear. you laugh, and heizou can't seem to tear his eyes away from you, his gaze belonging wholly to your existence.
when the stranger glares at him, heizou merely shrugs, a smirk fixed onto his face. the oblivious person then turns to you, a gentle smile on his face.
"might i have the honor of knowing your name? i am kenzaburou kadenokouji, and seeing you has blessed me with the inspiration to write my greatest upcoming novel: 'i was reincarnated as the raiden shogun's plane of euthymia, where i did nothing for 500 years before finally meeting the love of my life in the middle of the city?!'"
your mouth hangs agape, flabbergasted at this surreal experience.
heizou, however, is not fazed in the slightest. "is this based off of true events?"
"do not interrupt an artist's craft," kadenokouji replies, before extending a hand towards your free one.
so he knows i'm holding their hand, is all heizou thinks. without another thought, the detective pushes the writer's palm away, tugging you towards him.
"you're going to need to find inspiration from someone else! my intuition tells me that this isn't going to work out," heizou declares, his thumb coming to rub the back of your hand, as if he's trying to reassure you.
(you think that it's more for him, though. because although heizou is a self-assured, confident man, he is sometimes shrouded deeply in fear, swayed by the same emotions that make him so human, so lovely.)
(it also doesn't help that you adore novels. a majority of heizou's worries are attributed to how you devour those absurd reincarnation stories.)
"no, no... together," kadenokouji trails off, dismissing heizou with the flick of his hand. "together, we will defy fate! and with you, beautiful stranger, i will publish the greatest novel known to inazuma!"
"he's delusional," heizou mutters, but it sounds as if he's more impressed than incredulous.
"i have a boyfriend," you reply, still recovering from shock. "he's right next to me."
kadenokouji takes it the wrong way. "wow, you move pretty fast! although we just met, and i still don't know your name, i am completely fine with this sudden turn of events!"
"wow," heizou mutters to himself, almost amazed, "this guy's pretty good."
"he's like the opposite of you," you whisper, leaning closer towards heizou, "completely oblivious."
that gives heizou an idea.
"sorry pal, but they only like detectives," he declares.
"that's okay! i've been meaning to write a detective novel, you know, i am always switching things up!" kadenokouji exclaims, not taking the hint (but it's not even a hint, it's a full blown answer).
"oh, really? have you ever heard of shikanoin heizou?"
you and heizou exchange not-so-discreet glances (it's not like kadenokouji notices, anyway). heizou winks at you, as if urging you to stay quiet so he can get the spotlight in a novel that he's always been dreaming of.
"yes, yes! i love doushin shikanoin's work—in fact, i've been meaning to ask him for some information regarding his famous intuition! i plan on basing the main character of that novel off of him, really!"
"that sounds great! you know, doushin shikanoin believes that he needs the publicity, so your novel would be the perfect match!"
"is that really so? that's incredible! i must reach out to him immediately!" kadenokouji says, his attention belonging wholly to this newfound idea.
"i can relay the message to him," heizou replies, "what would you like to ask?"
"yes, thank you! please ask him if he's willing to meet me outside the tenryou commission for an hour or two for me to ask questions! and if he's willing to tell me about his intuition and how it works! my novel's main character will also have something akin to his intuition, but not exactly because i am always original and meaningful with my work—"
"alright, i will!" heizou declares proudly, "he'll hear of it by today!"
"thank you, kind sir! if i might be so bold to inquire, what is your name?" kadenokouji asks, suddenly becoming heizou's biggest fan whilst forgetting about your presence. how the tables have turned.
"shikanoin heizou," he states, the smile on his face never wavering. "my intuition tells me you're going to fall to the floor in utter shock!"
his intuition, as always, is correct. kadenokouji collapses to the floor as if he had just witnessed the most terrible thing, all the color draining from his face while his jaw hangs wide open.
"d-doushin shikanoin?!"
"that's me! also, could you include me in the novel's credits? you know, being a detective isn't always just about skill. in this day and age, we need publicity! we need a name for ourselves!"
kadenokouji faints.
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"did you come from another world?" someone asks. "'cause you look otherworldly."
"that was ridiculous," wanderer mutters, "and redundant."
"is he bothering you, your highness?" the person queries, taking a step towards you. their hand reaches out for yours, as if they're trying to take you away, but wanderer is quick to intervene.
he blocks you with his figure, the vision on his chest beginning to glow vividly as a gust of wind rushes through the akademiya's library, sending papers and books flying. scholars panic as their research projects flutter all across the marble floor, and usually, that'd be enough to deter a sane man.
unfortunately for you, your admirer (the other one) is no sane man. you suppose that you attract a certain group of people.
"so you think you're a big shot 'cause you have a vision, huh?" the stranger asks, unimpressed.
"hah! you don't even know who you're talking to," wanderer replies, clenching his fists. he takes a step toward your admirer, the air around him becoming tense and unwelcoming as it begins to manifest into something grim, something violent.
you're not in the mood for a suspension right now.
"wanderer!" you exclaim, tugging at his sleeve. "let's go somewhere else. this guy's just weird."
"you go first. i have things to deal with," wanderer replies, irritated. but the way he looks at you doesn't quite match the tone in his voice, because when the wanderer's cornflower pupils fixate on you, they melt. you mold him into something quiet, something lovely, when you do so much as exist.
briefly, the wind brushes past your face, kissing you with its tender touch.
(all you have to do is exist, and that'll be more than enough for him.)
"he's not worth your time," you say, not releasing your hold on the puppet's wrist. even though wanderer could easily escape your grip, he chooses not to—instead, he basks in your touch, inching closer towards you, letting you hold the strings of his artificial limbs to move him as you please.
wanderer relinquishes himself to you. wholly. and he trusts you with his fate, with his severed strings.
"whatever."
his severed string manifests anew, wrapping around his pinky and yours, turning red—not red from blood, but rather, from love—and knotting.
you are bound to him.
and then he gives in.
(he does a lot of that when it comes to you.)
"surrendering already, huh?" the stranger asks, clearly not knowing his place. "i knew you were nothing but bark."
oh, you think, sighing, this guy's an idiot!
"does the akademiya accept anyone who applies?" wanderer asks, contemplating murder. still, he doesn't release himself from your hold.
"that's what i was thinking when i saw you. leave us alone!"
a category 5 hurricane begins to brew in the akademiya library at the word "us." scholars begin to evacuate the premises whilst the insane man stands amidst it all, still trying his best to court you despite getting blown away.
i tried my best, you tell yourself, glancing away.
you let go of wanderer's hand, and then you close your eyes.
"let me know when you're done," you mutter, voice drowned by the whistle of the winds and the screams of scholars whose projects are getting engulfed by the storm.
wanderer, of course, hears you. he can always hear you, picking out your voice from the cacophony, taking the sound and placing it deep within his empty chest, letting it resonate and replay there. instead of a heartbeat, wanderer has your voice echoing throughout his torso, fusing into his artificial ribs.
he is bound to you.
a breeze wisps past your nose. even with the whirling winds and the threat of suspension lingering around your figure, no harm ever comes your way.
you are in the eye of the hurricane.
the eye of the beholder. it melts.
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neuvillette is flabbergasted.
back in fontaine, he had the luxury of comfort. everyone knew that the two of you were together, so he never had to deal with someone trying to court you, much less in front of him.
this is how he experiences culture shock. not by the customs of other nations, but rather, by the sheer audacity that some people have. especially when your hand is laced tightly with his.
"i think... i think..." the stranger trails off, his voice filled with an adoration that makes neuvillette's stomach churn. "... i'm getting lost in your eyes, beautiful."
the stranger reaches his hand out to give you a rose, a dashing grin on his face. you smile awkwardly.
"sorry, i'm taken."
"taken... by my good looks?" the stranger asks, putting a hand under his face to emphasize his features. neuvillette squeezes your hand.
"no, they are taken by me. we are partners," neuvillette explains, his tone remaining polite.
"partners in work?"
"yes, but—" neuvillette starts, but is quickly interrupted. you spare him an endearing glance, charmed by his honesty.
the tips of his pointed ears begin to blossom red. again, he squeezes your hand.
"no, we are married," you state blandly, and the stranger's gaze flickers over to your hands, searching for a ring. neuvillette doesn't like the look on the stranger's face; it's evident in the way the iudex narrows his eyes, the way he steps forward a little even though he'd usually try to avoid confrontation.
"i could get you a ring," the stranger says, clearly not getting the hint, "and you wouldn't have to lie about being married."
"there is nothing we owe to you that requires us to prove our marriage. we are married, and that is all you need to know," neuvillette declares firmly, his tone becoming harsh.
"but words alone don't mean anything," the stranger replies with a shrug.
neuvillette furrows his brows, clearly stumped by the stranger's statement. he disagrees—words don't mean everything, but they are definitely worth something.
"just back off," you suddenly chime in, tugging neuvillette closer to you. he lets you string him along to your whims, allowing his figure to inch towards yours, finding its place by your side.
"i'm not interested in you. i already have a lover."
the stranger rolls his eyes.
"ugh. i didn't even like you anyway."
neuvillette frowns. "now that is completely incorrect. just moments prior, you were—"
"just shut up!" the stranger yells, not even bothering to listen to neuvillette's explanation.
clouds begin to form.
"let's go, neuvillette," you say, rubbing the back of the iudex's hand with your thumb. "don't worry too much about that guy."
he looks at you, and the sun emerges.
"you're right. thank you, [name]."
a ring dangles from the silver chain on your neck; it's a vibrant shade of blue.
it glows.
"and you wanted to try this land's water, right?"
he lets you string him along, a gentle smile on his face.
"yes," he vows, "i do."
his hand slots perfectly into yours, and the world is engulfed by a radiant glow.
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665 notes · View notes
chrissshub · 2 days
Text
KAMA SUTRA SESSIONS!
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°❀°•༢ ❥ SYNOPSIS: When you get an appointment from a passing athlete who wants to better his game with women, who's better to answer the call than the resident sęx therapist?
°❀°•༢ ❥ CW: 8.7k words, told in first person, sẽx therapist!fem!reader, post timeskip!ushijima, not mentioned but ages are both 26, use of an oc, dialogue-heavy, pwp, peņetration, cunnilīngus, fiňgering, sqûirting, implied size difference, unprotected
°❀°•༢ ❥ DEAR READER, FROM CHRIS: So this was inspired by my most recent field of study: s*x and the kama sutra. and from my research and thinking "hm, who would have an interest in this?" is how this fic came to be. hope you enjoy!
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In the life as a sex therapist, there’s some things that you hear, see, and even experience that add years to the career. 
 At first, I thought it was going to be a failed business move, considering that sex is seen as a taboo topic by some. I mean, it’s a process as natural as birth but people shame it with such strong resentment…like it’s an unimaginable evil that’s ruining the world.
I couldn’t help but to think my discouragement was properly placed. I was in a town with families, retirees, no one that would really need my advice.
That “failed business move” of a thought lasted all of a week. 
Thanks to the small pickett signs I personally had made and placed around the office building’s parking lot and nearby plazas, I had clients booking with me by the hour. 
Couples of all ages—some married, some divorced, many singles, even polyamorous groupings contacted my office. 
When people heard of a new sex therapist entering the area and started booking sessions with me, I could only wish to know what was going through their minds.
I’ve dealt with teary confessions about how wives have lost attraction for their husbands, husbands who come to terms with the fact that they don’t know how to please their wives. I’ve even gotten singles who’ve come in just to make sure they still know how to perform in the bedroom. 
In these past four years, I’ve learned that just because people shun the idea of sex and sexual education during the day, they’ll come on their hands and knees at night. It’s been an interesting ride, but I can proudly say that I’ve helped many people in the area rekindle their sparkle and to finally achieve their goals with their partners.
The days I’ve spent at the office were nothing short of fulfilling—and today was supposed to be like no other.
Supposed to, of course.
My day started out like normal; waking up in my bed with my eyes fluttering open. The first thing I settled my hazy squint  onto was the rays of sunlight peeking through my creme shutters, begging to illuminate my room. 
I pried my hand from underneath my pillow to grab my phone off on my bedside table, the screen greeting me with a single message: 
(1) VOICEMAIL FROM: Hana
Hana, my cheeky, bright-eyed, receptionist. She joined me when she was a freshman at the local community college, just taking classes until she figured out what she wanted to do with her life. Fast-forward to today, she’s a fresh graduate with a bachelors in psychology. 
She’s taken it upon herself to call her around 6 A.M every day with a debrief of the day ahead. When I asked her why she does it, the sweet girl simply told me the extra effort was the least she could do. 
Since then, I’ve bumped her pay high enough so that she can support herself by herself and haven’t pressed the topic a vowel further.
With my debriefing at hand, I sat up in my bed, sleep still lingering behind my eyelids. I have half a mind to cancel whatever appointments I have today and sleep just for an hour more. But when I looked down at the time on my screen, it was a reality I knew I couldn’t afford.
9:00 A.M.
My office opened in an hour and my first appointment always starts at 10:30…bless me.
“Okay, Hana, let’s see what you have for me,” I mumbled as I clicked on the awaiting tab. 
As my thumb pressed the play button, Hana’s voice instantly became my background noise for my morning routine—which began in the bathroom for a shower.
“‘Morning, Y/N! Hope you slept well! I have good news and bad news for you. And no, I can’t give you the bad news first because it’s intertwined with the good news. So for starters, you have a light day—one appointment! Bad news…and this is a first for us…this client booked you for a few hours.”
“Hours?!? What the fu—“
Just hearing that made me pop my head from behind the glass shower door. Clients usually meet with me for an hour, an hour and a half if needed but hours???
“I know exactly what you’re thinking because…what the fuck?? But when I explain more about him, I think you’ll be impressed.”
“Okay, you’ve got a bit of a celebrity on your hands today. This one is Ushijima Wakatoshi. He’s 26, a player for the Schweiden Alders…a professional volleyball team. He’s playing a game against our national team and is gonna be in town for a few days. He booked with you because, and this is in his words, he says that he’s a little “awkward in the realm of love and wants to improve his social skills and….intimate skills.” He also sent over test results…he’s clean, just to let you know . So…have fun with this one!”
And just like that, Hana’s cheery voice was reduced to naught, melding with the stillness of my bathroom. 
I turned off the water, standing in a foggy haze. There was only one thought in my mind: 
Well then, Ushijima Wakatoshi…let’s start the day together right.
✧─── ・ 。゚★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧
“Hana! Oh my sweet flower, I brought your favorite♪!” I sang, entering through the office’s  front door.
Hana lifted her head from behind the monitor, her bright smile complementing my own. 
“An omlettle with cheese and hash browns on the side?!?” She squealed, jumping from her seat. 
“Mhm! Enjoy!”
Before I could take a step further, Hana ran to greet me with a hug, her curly black hair dusting along my chest. 
“Thank you, Thank you!” She cheered, stepping back from me. She quickly took the stuffed brown bag from my hands before returning to her desk. 
With a fading grin, I turned my attention down towards my top, a fitted rose dress shirt with just a few top buttons left undone. I wiped a few wrinkles away, shifting my attention down to my  black pressed slacks that didn't face the same fate. 
Still just as fresh and clean as when I left my apartment.
“So,” I began as I walked towards Hana. “How much do I have before our guest checks in?”
“Mmm, about 20. But Y/N…he’s so hot! I looked him up and wow! Like…I’m kinda confused how he’s having issues with girls. I’m sure the women at his matches throw themselves at him,” Hana gushed between a bite of her omelette.
I leaned against the rim of the desk, resting my red leather purse and my hips along the surface.
“Oh, you know how it goes. Looks can get you far, but it’s your words and actions that determine your success. I bet he does look good, but he probably needs more work on his confidence.”
“Ah, true. Well, you go tidy up your office and I’ll run the vacuum out here in a few,” Hana said, her hand shooing me away.
I grabbed my bag and giggled, “Okay, okay! But—“
I couldn’t even finish my thought when the front door tolled open, gaining a stare out of Hana and me.
“Um…excuse me…I’m here for Dr. L/N. I have an appointment at 10:30, but I just wanted to show up a little early,” the deep voice announced.
I turned my head to meet the owner behind such a voice, just for my eyes to be stunned at the sight.
A man, a tall one at that. He stood in the middle of the office with a straight face, staring back at Hana and I. His hair was a shade of brown unique to him only, brushed back to reveal his entire face. His features were strong—his jawline sharp, his cheekbones high, brows trimmed and clean,  his eyes glimmering like that of a polished citrine gem. 
Hana was right…he really was something to marvel at.
He stood with his hands behind his back, impassively waiting for someone to reply—or not, he really seemed unbothered.
I didn’t even need to guess what his physique could be underneath such proper garb. Those  muscles weren’t shy of peeking  beneath the navy suit he wore. The white dress shirt beneath was crisp, and no tie was in sight —which I guess is casual to him.
I bit my lip softly, I’ve never been intimidated by a man before, but this one made my face swell with a wafting heat. So this is Ushijima Wakatoshi…the name fits him perfectly.
Nonetheless, I had a job to do.
I rolled my shoulders back and began a few short steps towards him, the click of my heels slienced against the plush sage green carpet. 
There I was, standing before him. My height met him just beneath his collar—and that’s thanks to my heels. I held my hand out to him, my glossed lips curling into a rich smile. 
“Mr. Ushijima, it’s so nice to meet you! I’m Dr. L/N, but Y/N works just fine. This is Hana, my lovely receptionist.”
His hand was rough and worked, but slid against my palm like butter, his warmth melding into my touch. His thumb sat past my own, the rough pad swiping ever so softly along my skin. When my eyes finally eased from their shared smile as my lips, I couldn’t look away from him. 
His own gaze was captivating, almost entrapping me in a trace of just him and I. I watched as his lips curled into a faint smile, a brief flash of white meeting my eyes.
“Oh, Y/N, it’s wonderful to meet you! Please, feel free to call me Ushijima or Wakatoshi! I’ve been waiting for this appointment for a while now.. 
He broke away from our contact to give his attention to Hana, waving to her with his other hand.
“And it’s nice to meet you too, Hana! Thank you for your hard work!”
I didn’t need to look back to know the look on Hana’s face: she’s a flustered mess with her tongue  caught in a shudder.
“O-Oh…thanks, sir! It’s not without Y/N, though. I c-can tell you that you’ll be in…great hands!.”
Ushijima turned his sights back towards me, that muted curl of his lips growing into a full-bodied smile at last. 
“I sure hope so.”
I gave Ushijima one last smile before taking my hand away from his, my hands clasping together. 
“Let’s begin! I’ll bring you back and we’ll get on,” I announced, turning away from Ushijima. 
As I passed by the desk, I grabbed my bag and gave Hana a swift smirk, one she returned with a wink. 
Ushijima and I descended down the hall until we arrived to a room a door down from my office, room 165.
I turned the doorknob as I leaned against the white door, “Come on in.”
Ushijima nodded as he passed me, the faint scent of his cologne whisked past my nose. It’s rich—bergamot, some sage, amber, and even a hint of vanilla. That’s a good mix, and his body isn’t rejecting it, a man who knows his signature scent is a rare one these days.
The room I bought us to was of decent size—about the size of a child’s bedroom. The walls were handpainted by Hana and I some years ago, a soft peach with white carpeting. The furniture was all espresso colored, from the two leather seats that faced one another, the coffee table between the two, and the bookshelf that stood against the window.
It was a pretty comfy room, one that many current and past clients raved about. 
“Pick your side and get comfortable, we’re gonna be here awhile,” I teased, closing the door behind me. 
“I must apologize for that. I heard about you some time ago during a tournament and I’ve always wanted to have a sit down with you. And since I don’t come to the States often, I thought it was best to have an ample amount of time with you,” Ushijima confessed as he settled into the leather arm chair.
I followed suit, placing my bag onto the table as I sank into the seat. 
“Oh, don’t apologize! You’re actually my only client today, so we can take up all day if need be. I want you to leave here confident and more sure of yourself. Which brings me to my first question…”
I folded my legs over one other, resting my hands within my lap. My eyes settled over Ushijima, not with the same set that marveled at him just minutes before. This time, I excused his attraction for purpose, preparing myself to ask the timeless question:
“What brings you in today?”
Ushijima brought himself to sit up in his seat, his large hands drifting to brace his clothed thigh.
“Well, put shortly—I wanna get better with women. I can’t talk to them, and then I see my teammates—they can strike up a conversation with them so easily. And women do talk to me, but it’s just not…oh how can I put this…with substance?”
“What do women say to you?” I asked, leaning back into the couch.
“Just talk about my looks, or how impressed they are. I’ve heard it one too many times, it gets tiring. I know they’re just trying to make conversation with me by complimenting me, but those things just bore me. My teammates love that kind of attention, but it all seems pointless to me.”
“And why is that?”
“Because,” Ushijima sighed. “It’s just going to go nowhere. I’m not into hooking up, the thought bores me honestly. I mean, I feel that you don’t get the best of someone after one night, especially if your goal is just sex.”
“So then Ushijima—”
“Wakatoshi…please call me, Wakatoshi,” Ushijima intervened, a feeble smile creeping onto his face.
“Okay…Wakatoshi, call me Y/N. Doctor is just too formal for me,” I added. “But it still begs the question, Wakatoshi: What are you looking for?”
“As in my romantic goals or my type?” 
“Both work perfectly! Your interests do tie into your romantic goals,” I informed him.
Now, it’s so unbecoming of me to ask a client what their type is…but Ushijima is such a special case that I’ll overlook just this once.
After posing the question to him, Ushijima took a moment of silence to ponder, his eyes narrowing down on me.
“My type is…smart. Really smart. A put together woman with a good sense of humor. I’m more on the rigid side but I do appreciate a woman who can find joy in things. Her beauty goes without saying, so basically—a woman of substance.”
“Okay, sounds—
“What’s your type?”
Just the query to catch me off my guard…and pique my interest. In all my years, I’ve never had a client return any of my questions to me; I didn’t think Ushijima would be the first. 
My cheeks flickered with heat, but I found comfort within the moment by biting my tongue softly. My eyes were pinned on him, Ushijima still wearing that blank yet firm expression on his face— neutral eyes, brows stilled and his mouth free of any curl or twitch.
Just a peaceful face behind a stinging question.
“I don’t see how that matters…?” I said, staring at Ushijima through a razor-sharp squint.
“But it does matter. It’s not a hard question unless you make it one,” he continued. “What’s your type of man, Y/N? It’d be nice to know, since we’re gonna be here awhile together.”
A grin perked up onto his lips, the cracks of pearly white teeth breaking onto the scene.
 “Can’t I ask you some questions too?”
My lips broke apart between a brewing sigh, the tip of my tongue pressed against the gummy flesh of my cheek. I can’t deny him to be honest, we are stuck here for some time, and this session couldn’t continued as a one sided conversation forever.
“Alright, my type…my type…. I like a tall man, a nice athletic build, keeps himself well kept. As far as personality: smart, kind, respectful, responsible, and thoughtful. Thoughtfulness, however, is a big one for me. It’s nice to know you mean so much to someone that they would take actions out of that place of love. That’s quite admirable in my eyes.”
There was an air of silence between Ushijima and I. He sat still and I did the same. Our eyes hadn’t broken from each other either, yet the softening hues of olive green made me feel calm beneath Ushijima’s gaze. 
But this was an appointment, not a staring contest. I was the first to break the silence.
“A-hem..Um… well, I digress, let’s continue,” I choked out. 
I broke the eye contact Ushijima and I worked so hard to maintain with a simple blink, searching for the next territory of topic to enter. 
“So where did we—talked about types…but that’s not exactly helpful in the slightest. I know you wanted to address conversation too, but can you explain a little bit more?”
Ushijima nodded calmly, but that wasn’t all I got from him. Vunerabilty was one hell of a feeling, and it dusted the highs of his cheeks red. And as his skin began to run hot, Ushijima himself grew antsy, his hand coming to rub at  the nape of his neck. 
But…it was cute to me. The emotions I see on a daily basis are pride, sadness, anger—but embarrassment is a rare one that I can always appreciate. 
 “I…I don’t know how to flirt. It’s always awkward and I honestly feel stupid,” he mumbled, his stare pinned down at his pants. 
“I hear you,” I consoled, a faint smile crowding at my lips.
“It’s such an unspoken realm that everyone is expected to know how to do but with no explanation. Flirting is something that is also unique to each person. It  can be acts of kindness, giving compliments,—or the complete opposite. Some people like to tease, play rough, or even act cold as a form of flirting.”
Ushijima followed along with me, nodding his head every so often. 
“So then, what is the best way of flirting?” He asked.
“Well, I can’t say. —
“Let me rephrase,” He interjected. “What would a man have to do or say to you in order for you to be interested in him?”
“Wit.”
“Wit?”
“Yeah, I love witty, intelligent conversations. It could be anything and I’ll find interest in it. Just being able to express your intelligence to me—whether it be on topic you know or asking questions, I love it all. I guess to keep it short, the mind and how a man expresses his knowledge is what gets me interested.”
The presence of a faint grin lit up Ushijima’s face.
“That’s what it takes, hm…”
An air of enticement bled into the room and it shamefully claimed me as its victim. I’ll admit, I’ve never had a client as interesting as Ushijima. Aside from his genuine intrigue about sex and the ways of courting, he seems to have something more on his mind—and I wanted to know every single detail. But he plays along too well, thanks to that blank expression he wears so proudly. But he slipped up with that damn grin, now it’s my turn to play the next hand. 
I placed my hand on the open cushion beside me, the tips of my fingers drumming along the leather surface.
“Come sit, let’s do an exercise…just so it really sinks in. Maybe you’ll be able to use this as reference for the next lady that catches your eye.”
And just like that, Ushijima was swift to oblige. I was hooked on the sight of him standing from his seat, his hand toying with the buttons of his blazer. The white dress shirt he wore was finally revealed to me, the subtle hints of his muscular frame peeking through. 
His steps were calm and controlled, carefully trudging around the glass coffee table. Ushijima held himself with a confidence unmatched to any man I’ve met thus far. He was interesting to observe, and even more fun to tease. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested in seeing how far we could go, all kinds of thoughts were plaguing my mind. 
As he stood over me,  I had to bite back a smile, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip. 
This was turning out to be an interesting session, after all.
Ushijima placed himself on the couch at an arm’s length away, leaving an untasteful gap amongst us. Yet when my eyes had fallen on his stoic face, the man’s fair skin was budding with the innocence of pink. 
“Well don’t be shy, Wakatoshi,” I cooed. My hand patted at the spot just beside my thigh, hinting for him to move closer. 
“We are here together for quite some time, might as well get…a little close.”
With a firm nod, Ushjima bridged the gap between strangers to acquanitances among us, his body now resting snug at my side. He had yet to face me, as if he was embarrassed to do. I noticed that he kept his hands in his lap, his digits nervously fiddling around. 
I reached over to his hand, softly grazing along the back of his hand to ease his worries.
“Ushijima? You ready? We don’t have to do this, if you’re not comfortable—”
“No, let’s do it,” he huffed, his body turned towards me. “What kind of exercise are we doing?” He asked, turning his body to face me.
“Great! For the exercise, let’s pretend we’re meeting at…oh, I dunno, a bar. Do your best to try and ask me out on a date.”
“Um…Y/N…you do realize that the fact that I can’t ask anyone on a date is why we’re here, right?”
“Yes…I do, thank you for that. Use your imagination—a bar has ambiance lighting, soft music, drinks on rotation, play on the environment, and make a good impression, okay?”
Ushijima sat in silence for a moment, his eyes narrowing as the seconds passed. I could assume that he was thinking—really thinking at that. 
I almost pulled into my own daze of boredom, the color of the walls catching my eye—until the quiet mumble of his voice broke the stilled air. 
“Well…what do you drink at a bar?”
I tucked my leg beneath me as I shifted myself to give Ushijima my full and undivided attention. He mirrored me, turning so that we were both facing one another. Yet again, our eyes locked, unwilling to falter from the view we had of one another.
“I usually go for a glass of wine, I’m not a fan of heavy liquor.”
“Wine’s a good choice. Are you someone who pairs wine with food?”
I shook my head, “Not really. But, I do know that red wine goes best with some fruits, chocolate, and steak. Rosé goes best with grilled vegetables or salmon, and white is the best of both worlds.”
“Oh really?” Ushijima hummed. “I never realized wine could be so specific. Since you know so much, why not put your knowledge to the test?”
“And how are we gonna do that?”
A soft smile grew across Ushijima’s lips. He seemed to relax a bit–his shoulders laxed, his side now resting against the couch’s back cushions, he even shifted a bit closer to me too; all of which made me ease up too. I wasn’t feeling as guilty as I was before–if anything, I was pleased with the way our exercise was going.
Ushijima has such a nice, easy voice that greets the ear so kindly, and his eyes were just so alluring to stare into, I could sit here for hours just watching how his moss green hues catch the light of every hour. Not to mention that the scent of his cologne was finally welcomed into the scene, just wafting past my nose every so often. 
He had all the making of an ideal guy, so why isn’t he–
“I know a place near here, a nice restaurant with a wine cellar in the basement,” he led on. “ They have collections that date back years, and from what I know, the darker the wine, the richer…no, the sweeter it drips on the tongue. I’d like to hear your thoughts in a…professional setting, if you may.”
“I’d like that,” I nodded, a curling grin consuming my senses. “I’m sure you’d have some thoughts to tell me too.”
Ushijima shrugged, his hand coming to brace the pulse of his neck. “Honestly, there’s a lot on my mind I could tell you so much right now, but then…well…we might not make it to the restaurant. And I’m just dying to pour you a glass of wine, so…for now I’ll be paitent.”
I pushed my lips into a wading pout. I could feel my eyes softening beneath his gaze. He could find the time to tease me back while flustered like this…interesting.
“And what if I don’t have the same patience?” I pried, a sly smirk pressed onto my lips.
That’s when Ushijima sealed the end of our improv scene, bringing his hull of a body to overshadow my own. His lips came to fill the shell of my ear with an esteemed chuckle. His breath painted against my skin, awakening my nerves to greet him. I was helpless, at his every whim—and not a fiber in me wanted it any other way. 
“Then I’ll just have to tease you ‘til you break…right?”
He drew himself back gradually, our dilated eyes catching sight of each other once more. I was at a loss for words, my lips agape beneath the heat of shock.  At that moment, all I could think about what would follow—his lips crashing into mine, his hands bracing every curve of my body. I wanted to be under him, to have to stare up into those eyes to plead for relief from the stirring heat flaring about my body. 
But then again, this isn’t some magic fairytale…it’s an appointment.
“How was that?” He asked, his words breaking my sinful chain of thought. 
“Good,” I complimented, hiding my roused thoughts behind a smile. “You’ll most definitely get a date like that.”
“Well, I might have gotten the date, but I wanna be able to…y’know…”
“To what, Ushijima? You gotta be a little more clear than that,” I smirked. 
His skin began to flush itself of its tan shade in lieu of the trickles of rose dotting the highs of his cheek. 
“To…please a woman.”
“Please? Like…please and thank you? I hate speaking in code…especially in a professional setting.” I continued to press. 
If I had known he was so shy towards the topic of sex earlier, then we would’ve been able to ease into it. But for him to tease me like that…it’s only fair I return the gracious favor.
Ushijima’s eyes shot wide, a gasp breaking his lips apart. He was reluctant, but he gave in, biting at his bottom lip.
“Fine…I wanna know how to be good at sex…happy?”
“Oh, well to be good at sex is just the same as being a good lover. And I can show you how with this…" I trailed off.
 I quickly rose from my spot on the couch, setting my sights on my bookcase. A few steps brought in front of the shelved plethora of knowledge, eyes searching for the spine of the book needed for the moment.
"Ah! Here we are," my hand plucking out the book from its peers. 
“This…is the Kama Sutra. It’s an ancient Indian text written by the Hindu philosopher, Vātsyāyana Mallanaga; that explains how both men and women can lead rich sexual and social lifestyles. The Kama Sutra has become associated with sex positions over the years, but it doesn’t make it a heavy presence within the book.”
I returned to Ushijima’s side, seating myself beside him with the book in tow. I rested the Kama Sutra on his lap, allowing him to absorb the famed text. I watched as his eyes flitted about the cover, tracing every word to be found.
“Wanna flip through it?” I suggested, softly tugging at the book cover. 
“Yeah,” Ushijima nodded. “I’m interested.”
From the moment I opened the book, Ushijima and I were bound by the knowledge of the old world. The pages were written in english, yet the message was something that transcended all known languages. I went on to explain to him how the kama sutra devled into how sex between two lovers should be enjoyable for everyone, and how the pleasure of the woman would lead to ultimate satisfaction for both parties.
Though I’ve read it before for papers, presentations, and even for my dissertation, reading it with Ushijima was an experience that struck the strings of my heart in a special way. 
Maybe it was becasue he expressed a genuine interest in the questions he asked. Or maybe it was the cute reactions he made when things finally clicked. Or maybe it was the plain fact that I had someone beside me to read it with for once. 
From time to time, I took a few moments to study Ushijima’s reaction to his answered questions. He would blink a few times, as though he had to internalize all of what was said. Then, he’d peered over to me with a smile curling up the corners of his mouth.
Our chase of knowledge led us to the chapter on positions, the page’s title calling for Ushijima’s attention to be riled. 
“This chapter looks short. Where are the positions?”
“Well, the Kama Sutra actually doesn’t have any positions, it gives advice on how to select and personalize positions between lovers.”
“Huh,” he huffed. “…and what does that look like?
“Want me to show you?”
A blanket of silence fell over him, and he’s back to wearing that blank, sedated look on his face.
Damn, was that too strong? It was a little forward but I know it’s nothing—
“If it’s not too much…I’d be honored.”
“Well, then,” I grinned as I placed the book atop of the glass tabletop. “Let’s get started.”
Ushijima’s hand nuzzled along my waist, guiding me  over his lap to straddle him.
“You can just sit right on me, I think we’re getting a little closer, yeah?”
“I think we are, but we can get closer too, y’know.”
“And can we do that?” 
With that burning question of his, I was forced to bear the weight of what lust looks in his eyes—his pupils dilating, his eyelids growing heavy, and a mischievous smirk tracing his lips. 
“Do you wanna be on top?” I quizzed, toying with the top button of his dress shirt.
“Well I’m just here to observe, so I think you should be on top,” he said, leaning back against the couch. He brought me down with him, his hands nestled along my lower back. Just like that, my chest was smothered against the tauntingly chiseled mass of his own. 
My hands languidly skimmed along the face of Ushijima’s shirt. He held still as my touch consumed him and his senses whole, his lungs coaxed into a steam of shaky shallow, breaths. 
“Y’know, we have to find a way to make this position our own, make sure we fit each other just right,” I hummed, draping my arms along his broad shoulders. I lowered myself further into his groin,  pressing up against something hard…and twitchy.
That’s when I felt it, a thick bulge nested right between Ushijima and I. 
Men are so easy, it’s so cute. 
That stoic face of his was cracking right before my eyes—his eyes screwed shut, lips stunning with a puffy pout, his cheeks brushed with the innocent hues of blush. He looked so lost in his own heat, desperately squirming for a remedy. 
“Oh my-fuck, Y/N. What do you want from me? I’ll do anything, just say the word!”
I brought my thumb to tug along the plush of Ushijima’s bottom lip, his glossed skin clinging to my touch.
“Aww, where’s the patience you had earlier? I thought you were gonna tease me? But seeing you like this…it’s a good look on you too, Wakatoshi.”
A gentle grin eased itself into Ushijima’s features, fueled by the same salacious nature dotting his eyes. His hold over me shifted, his hand slipping down to grasp at the thick curve of my ass. He even found the chance to snake his hand between us to cup at the underside of my thigh. He kept me near, forcing his chest to curl into mine as he sat up once more. 
“I can guarantee you one thing, Y/N.” Ushijima huffed, his heavy eyes peering up at me. 
“Oh, and what’s that?”
“After me, you won’t ever need another lover.”
My hazy stare fluttered between his eyes and his lips, capturing the sight of It was almost likat was all I needed to finally be sealed beneath his trance. And because of that, I was able to press a soft peck onto Ushijima’s lips, breaking away just to whisper words of encouragement for his racing mind to catch. 
“Then prove it.”
Sharing my spite, Ushijima’s lips bared one final smirk before crashing against my own. His kiss told me all I needed to know–soft, puffy, and clinging to my own. The supply curves of his lips caught every pushing tide I offered, ignithing a ravenous intent deep within us both. 
His hands roamed over my body, claiming every curve, every inch of me for his taking. It’s dizzying to have him like this, a nonchalant man turned hungry for every crumb to offer. He was getting restless, his hips bucking for friction all over again. 
Maybe I was so focused on how dumb his lips had driven me or his hands tracing my body like a sculpture to his sculpture, but how he managed to have me pinned beneath him and smothered into the leather cushion is a mystery to me alone, but I wasn’t about to complain. 
How could I when he smothered me beneath the thick of his chest, sending my head into a dizzied frenzy But with the way his lips carried such care to dance with mine was enough for me to forgive him for being so needy. The same needy–no, greedy nature made him take control without any room for debate, and I surely wasn’t planning on starting anything I couldn’t finish.
“Mm, Y/N?” He mumbled, breaking our kiss.
“Hm?"
“If I remember correctly, didn’t the book say I should make you cum a few times? Through your pleasure, I'll find mine right?"
"Look at you, guess you really are learning. I think it did...so what are we gonna do about that?"
I didn’t need to hear the words to know what he had planned. I lifted my hips to help him, his hands stripping me free of my pants. 
Ushijima slotted himself between the couch and the table, clutching at my waist from below. 
His arms hooked around my thighs, his hands resting within the crease of my thighs, his filled palms squeezing at the plush fat. He seemingly ignored the fact that my underwear—the most annoying fact to exist—was still on.
Until his fingers began to trace along the pink lace. Slowly, carefully, and lazily he dragged the pad of his digit all over my panties, feeding some new whim of his. 
I watched him for a while as he led with his own agenda. Until I couldn’t sit still without some answer. 
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“Am I?” He retorted, his eyes darting to meet mine.
His touch burned with the thrill of tease as he gradually followed the edges towards the inseam of my panties. The pad of his middle finger was all he relied on as he carefully traced the puffy lips of my pussy. 
His finger sunk between my clothes lips, just for his discovery to be rewarded with the bud of my clit. That’s when Ushijima pinned his stare on me, antagonizing me into a game of endurance. 
Those aimless strokes turned into a series of sloppy circles, Ushijima claiming my clit as his latest victim in his game of taunts.
A whine cracked from behind my lips, something was stirring deep within me. He’s just teasing me but yet it was enough for my legs to tremble and my core to grow heavy with desire. How the fuck was he doing this to me?
A sigh from Ushijima broke my train of jumbled thoughts, bringing me back into the hellish scene. 
His breath fanned over the supple skin of my inner thigh, the heat inducing tremors to rake through my limbs. 
“Aw, I’m making a mess, “ Ushijima sighed. “Oh well.”
He drew himself back from me, fidgeting with the buttons of his shirt. He plucked his shirt open one button at a time, stopping just midway of his chest. 
I closed my legs, allowing him to tug my soaked pink pantiesf rom beneath me and off somewhere in the room. Ushijima returned to his post between my thighs—prying my legs apart for him to fill once again. His heavy arms curled around my thighs, his cheek nuzzled against the plumped skin. 
My face swelled with heat as he continued his marvels, his hand cupping my cunt. His thick fingers settled against my lips, spreading the fat supple mounds apart for him to see. 
“Oh, Y/N…” He mumbled, pulling my hips closer to his awaiting tongue. 
A scattered sigh tore out from Ushijima’s mouth, tickling my bare pussy with its heat. 
His heavy eyes were pinned to the raw sight he created of my pussy. I watched as his sights flickered over the scene, enticing his teeth to digging into his bottom lip. Determination painted his face with its fierce hues that it even fanned over to me. I’ve never had a man look at my cunt with such passion. It was enough for me to even succumb to the heat of it all. 
“Mm, fuck. Just lemme…” Ushijima trailed off mindlessly. 
Before he could even finish his thought, his lips were already busy with peppering kisses along my dewed folds. Kisses that were wet, sloppy and kiss carried the sweet, lewd cries of Ushijima coaxing my clit to join in his dance for two.
It’s filthy the way Ushijima works at my clit—his tongue lolls about my clit lazily, leaving glimmering soapy trails of spit to drip past my folds.
Every lash he delivers is a thoughtful one; the warm, soft flat of his tongue dragging against the puffy pearl, the sticky mess he’d made out of my clit clinging to the grooves of his tongue.
His lips are like velvet, left plump by the kisses we’d given on each just moments before. And to have those same luscious lips envelope my clit into a world that was nothing short of dizzying. 
Just the thought of his ministrations alone left my clit spry, the bundle of nerves twitching within the confines of Ushijima’s sloppy mouth. He busied himself with a soporific rhythm, suckling at the rathe bud just for kicks.
Ushijima peered at me through dilated pupils, those olive hues flickering all about my face. I couldn’t imagine the sight he had of me being committed to memory: puffy lips spilling with drool, close eyes screwed shut, and crude, whimsical curses ripping from my mouth. 
“Mmhm, talk to me, Angel. feels good?”
“Mm, yesyesyes! Oh fuck, just like that Ushijima!” my voice weakly keened. 
Awe glistened in my eyes as I watched him, mindlessly chasing an orgasm for my body to revel in. Yet, my drowsy lids were pinned to his jaw, bearing the weight of his hunger. Something came over me, a sense of adoration. So, I reached out to cup his jaw, grazing along what  worked so hard to pull an orgasm out of me. 
My thumb settled along the highs of his cheek, stroking at his flustered skin. He’s doing such a good job on my behalf, how couldn’t I thank him?
“Oh, that’s it. Y’re doing a good job, Ushijima,” I praised, sharing a weak grin. 
“Oh, I’m not done with you yet, pretty girl,” he chuckled softly.
In place of his lips, Ushijima brought a single digit nip at my entrance. He drew lazy circles around my slit, prepping me for what’s to come.
He’s gentle, easing barely half an inch of his digit inside. My walls grew lax for Ushijima, sucking  his long thick fingers to fill my pussy.
He made me so sensitive that just off that, I was whimpering out babbles to fall on no one’s ears in particular. Yet Ushijima still took heed to be kind with me.
“Shhh, just take me, baby. ‘m gonna go as slow as you want me to,” he assured. 
I didn’t feel his hand move from my thigh, but it did, reaching out for my own. Through my drunken senses, I managed to welcome his hand into mine, our fingers folding over one another.  
Bit by bit, Ushijima’s finger filled my gummy walls. He really was gentle, moving when my walls were lax and willing. He drove his finger to the hilt, only to slowly pull his digit back.
“Oh…fuckkk…s’ pretty,” he slurred, passing a glance back towards me. 
“Tell me where you want me.”
“Just curl your finger up--- oooh fuck!” I mewled, tossing my head back against the couch.
My hands followed suit, splitting away from Ushijima to grip along the couch’s frame behind my head. When I had Ushijima in my sights again, it wasn’t without a smug grin crowding his visage.
“So…is it here?” Ushijima asked, the pad of his digit lightly pulsing at my sweet spot.
“Mhm, right there. Just keep doing that.”
“Aww, Y/N, you shouldn’t have told me that—‘m gonna have fun with you now.”
Ushijima snickered as he returned to my clit, inviting the perked bud to melt over his tongue all over again. I trembled at the combined notions, sending an arch to overwhelm my spine.
“W-Wait, Ushi–That’s too much, ‘m already so close!”
Ushijima merely nodded, my words essentially falling onto deaf ears. Electricity licked all throughout my body, sending twitches to rattle my weak legs. I couldn’t take it, Ushijima’s finger toying with my sweet spot, he was setting me on course for the high of my life. 
“W-Wakatoshi! Toshi–fuck, ‘m cumming!” I cried, my lungs grasping for what air could enter. 
Ushijima’s finger plugged itself at my core, bringing a seizing crash to break over my body. Every ounce of me held firm, shivering to bear the weight of my chased high. My hips waved against the pad of his digit, riding out the end of my ecstasy off whatever friction would be found. 
Ushijima withdrew his finger from my cunt, leaving my poor hold  bare and gaping for something else to fill me. He brought that sullied digit straight to his mouth , sucking my honey off his fingers as he gleamed over me. Sporadic breaths chimed through the sex-stained air, my chest buckling to keep up with me.
“That’s a good girl,” Ushijima cooed. “Cumming so hard for me. Look at what you did to me.” 
Ushijima stood from my legs, his hand racing to grip at his crotch. And he was right—his pants were strained thanks to his bulge, the fabric just barely holding itself together.  But what caught my attention was the bubbly mess of precum foaming through his slacks. 
“Didn’t even touch me and you made me cum, should be proud,” he chuckled.”But that’s fine, we’re even…for now.”
“And what does that mean?” I asked, shifting myself to lay along the couch. 
“Let’s find out what I mean together.”
Ushijima quickly stripped himself of his clothes coaxing me to strip of whatever clothing was left on me as well. As he removed his clothing, my eyes hinged on his bare body—taut muscles highlighted his towering frame. He’s ribbed with strength chiseled to suit his build.
A thick trail of faint brown hair from his belly button guided down to the sight resting between his legs. He’s big, cock so heavy with lust that it needed no help to rise on its own. His cock was topped by a thick, fat reddened bulb, dribbling with glossy tears. His length was tanned, adorned with veins from the poor pressure building at his core. I watched as Ushijima settled himself between my legs, his dick slapping down against my tummy.
"See? Look how deep I'm gonna go," he smirked, his hand gripped at the base of his cock.
I laid my head on the couch’s armrest, lying in wait for Ushijima's next move. 
Ushijima placed his painfully hard cock to lay within my folds, my clit smothered beneath the weight. 
“I’m gonna go slow, okay?"
I nodded as I peered down to watch Ushijima nudged at my hole with the head of his cock, slowly prying my slit to greet his girth. 
“Fuh—pretty pussy’s taking me in already. Griping me s’ fucking tight,” Ushijima seethed, his hands griping along the couch’s cushions.  
My walls supplied Ushijima’s cock with gushing kisses, fluttering about his throbbing length. He kept working to bury himself to the hilt, dipping his hips to engulf my senses with nothing but him—his scent, his ardor, his fat bulbous heat fixated on  digging out my cunt.
“Y’re so big, Toshi! Fuck, go deeper!”
“Nuh uh, “Ushijima tutted as his eyes came to a screwed shut. “Don’t be so greedy, Baby. I got you, just…—shit—feel me, okay? His honeyed voice whimpered. 
I nodded softly, watching as Ushijima’s hips finally granted my wish. I couldn’t help but squeeze him in place, my walls fluttering around him. He was just so huge, filling out every inch of my pussy like it was nothing. My lashes grew heavy from the bubbling sear of tears lining my eyes. This pain—an intoxicating stretch sent me down a spiral of, being so full like this by Ushijima was something  I was enthralled by the feeling of being so full and stretched around him. 
Ushijima took notice too as he looked down at the unfolding scene. 
“Aw look, you took every inch! ‘m s-so…proud of you,” Ushijima huffed out. 
He leaned over me, pressing his chest flush against my own, resting his forehead within the crook of my neck. He brought his world crashing into mine, the heat of our bodies melding into one. I could even sense his heartbeat, thumping a languid aria into my skin. All I wanted to do was hold him, to have this moment last for as long as we could. But considering the throbbing mess he’d been reduced to, lust reigned over all other senses.
“I’m gonna start moving,” Ushijima mumbled into my dewed skin. “Just…talk to me, Princess. Just wanna see that face when you cum for me again…so fuckin’ bad.” 
He reeled his hips back weakly, striping my walls of the salacious fill of him. He drew himself just enough to have the tip just barely slipping from out of me, only for him to stuff every inch of him to the hilt. 
“T-Toshi! Ohmygosh!” I squealed, sending my hands to brace along the thick of his forearms. 
“I-I know. ‘m sorry! H-Here, gonna kiss it all better,” Ushijima groaned, his lips sloppily crashing into mine. 
Through all this, Ushijima’s hips rocked gently, working a cadence just for me. Slow yet deep allowed the red, weeping bulb of his cock to chip away at my need for dominance. Each reel of his cock enticed my walls to ease in his care, granting him to move that much quicker. 
And within those passing moments, the quiet squelches erupted into the lewd cymbals of clashing skin breaking into the air. Ushijima drove his cock to the hilt with ease. 
The same fate befell him, his quiet and restrained grunts now morphed into quivering sobs. His lips now dressed a heavy pout, dripping with his spit and carrying his weary words.
“Keep squeezing like that ‘nd I’m gonna cum."
“M-Me too, Toshi! I’m so close!”
I perched myself onto my elbows, urgent to close the valley left to exist between our two worked bodies. 
Not a word had to fall from my lawless tongue for Ushijima to soothe my wants. He leaned in, hunching over to blur our worlds into one. His hand snaked around to brace the nape of my neck, bestowing a gentle grip over me just to keep me close. He pressed his forehead flush against my own, beads of sweat dotting my skin.
Our lips remained poised in the heat of our budding passion, catching every whimsical babble we had to each other..
I couldn’t resist smothering him in a kiss, lazily catching every moan to ring from his chest. He was working so hard on my behalf, driving himself mad, sweaty, and depleted just to please me—oh, how lucky was I?
He broke away from our messy kiss, muttering some mantra that seemed to grasp his concern more.
He retreated back onto his haunches, pinning his sights on the messy canvas he’d made of my cunt. His thumb, the pad of his digit etching loose loops over the cherried pearl. 
I reached out to brace his wrist, pulling his hand to lay atop my tummy.
“Nuh uh, don’t wanna cum like that. J-just keep—fuck! Please don’t stop!” I sobbed, rolling my ensnared hips to match Ushijima’s tempo.
“Aww cumming already? Better make a mess or else I'm not stopping til you do.”
“Ooo-oh fuck, I-I  can make a mess! Just fr’ you.”
From that pledge Ushijima and I made, a fever dream broke out over the room. A dream fueled by sinful fervor that claimed any sense Ushijima and I had down to nothing. All we had on the brain was each other, doing our own part helping each meet our peaks.
As for me, he’s rendered me dumb and drunk over his cock, feeding my sweet spot with his deliciously thick girth. Dumb hiccuping babbles were all I could muster. My plushy walls were consumed by a familiar flutter, my inevitable high teetering on the edge.
“ToshiToshi, right there! I’m gonna—!" The word trapped itself within my throat, only to be replaced by a blubbering whimper.
A spell of heat licked at every nerve in my body. My eyes were sent rolling into the back of my head as my overwhelmed body coaxed my poor ruined cunt to weep,  a burst of tears gushing  over Ushijima’s flexed abdomen.  
“Good fucking girl, making a mess just like I asked. I wanna—fuck!—'m wanna cum with you too!”
The peak of my high left me just barely conscious, my eyes heavy with the sudden heft of fatigue. Through the thick gathering of my lashes, I gawked at Ushijima, his own nirvana finally crashing down around him. 
“Oh—‘m cumming! Y/N, I'm gonna cum!”
Ushijima trembled as his rutting hips came to a stuttering halt. He frantically ripped  himself from inside of me, the roused nerves of his cock sent into a twitching frenzy. Nuzzling the bulbous head along my inner thigh, the warm tears of white painted skin, followed by a clogged groan pouring from Ushijima’s gaping mouth. 
He collapsed on top of me, his lungs desperately heaving for air. I laced my arms around him, taking my digits through his unkempt hair as he came down. 
“Shhh, it’s okay, I got you. Just relax,” I hummed softly. 
Ushijima and I lay on that couch for a while longer, neither of us ready to move. As I combed through his hair, he kept a hand on my stomach, tapping away at some tempo to soothe himself. Just a quiet, peaceful reflection of the practices he and I had done.
He was right, I don't think I'll need another lover after that. My legs were practically useless, my throat sore, and my body was still reeling from the temors of my high. Even Ushijima still shivered from time to time. That moment was something straight out of a movie, calm, quiet, and filled with a growing fondness.
To my surprise, Ushijima was the first to break the silence with a question.
“So about our date, what time works—“
“Oh! You were serious about that?!” 
Ushijima nodded, “Well…yes. I know it was an exercise but I really wanted to take you out somewhere nice. And I actually do know a place around here with a huge wine cellar.”
 My head fell into a tilt as I studied Ushijima for a second. He’s back to his regular “stoic” self but this time every feature in his face was softened—his brows, his lips, his eyes; all carried a bout of sincerity. I simply had no heart to deny him, especially now knowing what kind of man he was in the face of rapture.
“Y’know what, Ushijima,” I purred as my hand reached to cup his cheek.
“I’d like that.”
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