Tumgik
#AND I JUST HAVE TO KEEP IT ALL LOCKED UP INSIDE ME THERE IS NO OTHER OPTION NO FUCING OPTIONS NO CHOICES NOTHING
soaps-mohawk · 2 days
Text
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.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
Tumblr media
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. 
Tumblr media
Taglist:
@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx
@protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai
@redwites @kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg
@beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff
@smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60
@evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine
@thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows
@ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce
@darling006 @sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood
@daniblogs164 @mirzamsaiph
1K notes · View notes
kenntolog · 2 days
Note
Oh oh! I want to tag in!! I’m not entirely sure if this is something you’re comfortable with, but since cool bf Sukuna loser gf reader takes place in university, I think I’d be super cool seeing sukuna get wasted and being so soft to reader and just loving her while she’s all flustered and maybe on the verge of tears cause she feels so loved (not that she didn’t before, but sukuna is like, being extra about it you know?), thought it be cute!!
𝝑𝝔 an: hey sweet anon!! this is indeed very cute and charming so i hope you enjoy my interpretation!! read more ab cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader here! wc: throwing up, drinking.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
cool boyfriend sukuna is so wasted he loses his filter completely, his affectionate nature that was sealed deep inside of him, threatening to break out only for his loser girlfriend, finally free of it’s restraints.
“you’re always so good t’me, baby,” he mumbles, face snug in the juncture between your neck and shoulder, and in any other setting in would’ve been very very sweet, but not when he’s laying on top of you by the entrance of your place, having lost his balance when trying to get out of his shoes.
“‘kunaa~ d’you wanna maybe get up?” you whine, trying to move him off.
“i’ll stay where i want,” he lifts his head up, a frown appearing on his face before he visibly stiffens. you eye him warily before you realise that he’s probably going to throw up and it’s gonna be all over you if he doesn’t move.
thankfully, sukuna has mercy and quickly moves away from you, standing up and running to the bathroom, and soon enough you hear him groaning in pain and agony. you rub his back through it all, cringing at the way he still manages to curse in between choking on his own vomit, and lift him up making him drink some water and get ready to wash his teeth.
he’s still very much drunk, now uncharacteristically quiet as he stares at you through the mirror while brush his teeth carefully. he’s probably capable of doing it himself, you think, but you don’t think he should let go of the sink’s edge, still swaying a bit from side to side.
since you’re focused on brushing his teeth so you don’t notice his half-lidded gaze on you until you’re done, instructing him to spit out the excess toothpaste.
“let’s get you to bed, ‘kuna,” you mumble, shy under his intense gaze, and tug him by his arm gently, leading him out of the bathroom.
sukuna falls on the bed like a sack of potatoes, pulling you down along with himself as he sighs in delight.
“g’night, baby.” he mutters, holding you close to his chest, but you chuckle nervously, trying to get out of his hold instead since you still had to change and do your routine before sleep. “where the hell are you goin’?”
“i gotta change and wash—”
“no, i can’t sleep without you, baby,” he pouts and you can barely keep your face intact to not give away your bewilderment because this is a revelation for you. his arms tighten around you a little as he glares at you sleepily.
“it’ll take just a couple of minutes, ‘kuna,” you attempt to negotiate once again. he stares at you for a few seconds before groaning and sitting up.
“‘m comin’ with you.”
you sigh, suppressing your growing smile, but don’t resist and let him tug bath into your bathroom.
———————
“you don’t even have to do all this shit,” sukuna complains quietly now that he’s settled: head heavy on your shoulder with arms wrapped around your middle as he blinks slowly and yawns occasionally.
you don’t give him an answer, busy with the last step of your routine, before you feel him breathing you in slightly, lips nipping on the skin of your neck.
“you’re the prettiest girl in the world for me,” he mutters simply, kissing your jaw and cheek as his hands rub up and down your sides soothingly. you feel your face heat up when his eyes lock with yours through the mirror, your flustered state now more visible. “the best girl in the world.”
“s’kuna,” you mumble, looking down at your hands so that he doesn’t see your cheeks dusting with the embarrassing pink.
he ignores you, fingers clasping around yours as he pulls you out of the bathroom and to your bed. once again, sukuna drags you into the bed with himself, covering you both with your blanket.
“my girl,” he sighs with a sleepy grin and cups your face with both hands, leaning in to place a kiss on your nose and lips. “took care of me so well t’night.”
you almost whine in embarrassment, hiding your face in his chest so sukuna doesn’t see the way your bottom lip juts out and eyes get watery as you try your best to not sniffle so much. the amount of love you feel from him is so overwhelming you start feeling stupid for the way you don’t know whether to laugh in delight or cry from the softness.
“love you so much.”
“love you too, ‘kuna.”
+ bonus!
“were you cryin’ into my chest?”
“n-no, why’d you say that?”
“you totally were, loser.”
“sukuna!”
735 notes · View notes
ourautumn86 · 2 days
Text
in heat
dom! alpha abby x sub! alpha ellie x sub! omega reader
a/n; i’ve made my research about aob and female alphas have dicks, so if you don’t fw it don’t read it!!❤️
cw; +18 content, minors dni!!, synchronized heat and ruts, dom! alpha abby x sub! alpha ellie x sub! omega reader, different positions, breeding kink, oral sex (all three receiving kinda??, ellie and r for sure), making out sessions, dirty sex, cum eating, creampies, multiple orgasms, praising kink, ellie being a sub mess, abby uses her alpha voice for a sec, tit and nipple play (r and ellie receiving), hickeys, biting, hair pulling…
okay so everybody knows how hard ruts and heats are. how brutal they can be when there is no alpha or omega to spend it with. but nobody talks about the disaster that conveys when both sync at the same time.
your gilfriends and you didn’t really keep on track the timings of your ruts and heats. why would you? you were there for each other. so when ellie’s turns up is no big deal. or so you thought. ‘cause the moment you took a whiff of her scent your heat hit you like a wave, triggered by the auburn headed, and so abby’s, triggered by yours.
so now here you were. caged in between two alphas in rut, who couldn’t give you just a mere moment to rest. it’s not as if your body needed it. all your mind could think about was having either one of them inside, fucking up their cum inside of your womb, digging their fangs on the juncture of your neck, knotting you…
the thing is… that ellie and abby were unstoppable.
“oh, fuck!” you cried out as abby’s tip hit your cervix, the mix of the blond’s and red headed’s cum flowing out of your abused and swollen cunt with every harsh thrust of her hips. her lips were harshly sucking on your neck, strong arms surrounding you from the back to keep you still, warm big hands palming and squeezing at your breasts and reddish eyes focused on the other alpha in between your legs, whose tongue lapped messily at your slicked cunt and the peeking base of abby’s dick. your back was arching, your golden eyes shining with tears on them as ellie sucked on your swollen and sensitive clit. you didn’t know how many times you’d already cummed. but by the way your pussy kept swallowing them up, you guessed that not enough.
“good girl. such a good girl letting us use her like this. look at her. she just wants to be stuffed up full, isn’t that right baby?” abby smirked, slightly bitting at your shoulder as she gave you a particularly harsh and deep thrust, what made you moan.
“yes, yes, please… want your cum, want you to cum inside.”
—it was a good thing that you were on tablets, or else you three would have probably ended up with babies a long time ago.—
“yeah? want me to cum inside? want me to cum inside your pretty little pussy, baby?” she panted, feeling her dick twitch when ellie’s mouth sucked on her balls. “fuck ellie.” one of her hands left your chest to take ahold of her auburn locks. the alpha moaned at the tugging, her own throbbing dick painfully hard in between her stomach and the sheets she humped herself against. “someone’s desperate down there, huh?” she chuckled, making the alpha growl, her normally green eyes taken by a deep red.
“you’re the one inside her.” she answered, and the blonde tugged on her hair, pulling her away from you and making her scoff. there was a smirk showing off her soaked lips.
“smart, aren’t you? could be using your mouth for something better instead of talking back but here you are. maybe i should just let you watch and talk instead.” ellie whimpered, thrusting against the sheets, her demeanor changing as quick as the smirk disappeared from her lips.
“just want to cum.”
“i know.” abby said, focusing on rubbing your clit for her. “but you already got your turn. look at the mess your cum made out of my dick.” ellie’s eyes went back to the base of abby’s cock, were a white ring formed, her recent load dripping down her balls and onto the sheets. she moaned. “fuck. you like the sight, don’t you? like to know i’m fucking your cum deeper inside her?” she nodded, bitting on her lip.
“please. let me help.” she begged. it was funny. how out of the bed abby and ellie would always fight for dominance, but once they were inside this four walls she’d give it to her so easily.
“gonna make our girl cum?” she inquired and ellie nodded once again. “atta girl.” the blonde let go of her hair, relishing in the pornographic moan you let out once ellie was back at sucking at your clit.
whimpers fell out of your lips as you clenched around abby, making her grunt.
“fuck. you’re milking my cock baby. you close? gonna cum for us pretty girl?” you nodded.
“yes.” you cried out, feeling yourself reach your peak. “i’m cumming!!” abby was not too far behind, not when she felt you cream all over her dick, her hips pistoning inside your pulsing and warm walls.
“gonna cum. gonna knot you up and breed you, princess. gonna get you all round and pretty for us.” you moaned, tears swelling up your eyes. “that’s what you want? wanna make ellie and me mommies, hm?” you nodded, thighs shaking as ellie whined, still suckling at your clit.
“yes, yes. want you to get me pregnant please, please cum inside, cum inside, please.”
“fuuck.” abby growled, your words making her with one, two, three more thrusts cum, her knot swelling and making you cry as she kept thrusting, abusing your walls to reach your womb, where she stilled, warm loads of heavy and creamy cum filling you up with a grunt.
“shit, it’s too big.” you whimpered, feeling abby’s lips on your neck and her hands on your breasts, pleasing you to relax and take it all.
“you can take it. take it for me. for us. be a good girl.” you nodded, watching as ellie got on her knees in front of the two of you, her cock dribbling with precum as her dazed red eyes focused on you.
she crawled her way to your lips, capturing them in a wet hungry kiss that left you with spit dripping down your chin.
one of her hands surrounded her dick, pumping it with a growl as your tongue glided around hers.
abby cooed. “look at her. so fucking desperate.” ellie groaned. “she just can’t wait to fill you up, baby.” abby whispered, her hands coming up to play with ellie’s breasts. “so fucking cute.” ellie panted, her hips thrusting against her hand. abby clicked her tongue, maneuvering the two of you —since you couldn’t get away from her due to her knot keeping you in place— ‘till she was down on her back, her head at the edge of the bed. “come here, use my mouth.” she ordered, and ellie couldn’t help but moan, hurriedly getting up on her wobbly feet to get herself in front of abby, her dick throbbing when the blonde’s mouth fell open for her.
“fuck.” ellie cried out when abby took her cock and wrapped her lips around her tip, her warm tongue gliding through the slit to savor every last drop of her salty pre cum. you whimpered at the sight. sure, you had to bend your body slightly to turn around and watch, but it was truly a sight of sore eyes, watching ellie slowly pick up her pace down abby’s throat, who was so pliant to please the smaller red head. the sight alone was making you drip down onto her thighs, your hips subconsciously starting to grind against her for some kind of relief, making abby groan in pleasure and consecutively ellie moan.
abby’s hands strongly gripped on your hips, bouncing you up and down her dick now that her knot’s swelling was going down, filling the room with now you three’s moans.
“stop. stop. i’m gonna cum.” ellie whined, feeling the band on her lower stomach about to snap.
abby let go of her dick with a pop, calling out for you. “get up here.” she ordered as she licked ellie’s length from base to top, over lining the veins with her tongue and making the alpha shudder.
you made quick work of following her orders, getting up from her dick to move and present yourself to ellie, back arched and leaking cunt showing for her hungry eyes. abby pumped her with her hand a couple of times before guiding her to your pussy, once she had pressed inside with a moan (which turned into two since you too couldn’t help but cry out at the feeling of being stretched out by her once again), pulling you up to your knees to start to kiss your chest. ellie’s pace became brutal pretty fast. she was close, desperate to cum inside you. and you were desperate for her to fill you up. abby took ahold of her face with one of her hands, kissing her over your shoulder as her free hand came down on between your bodies to rub at your clit.
you weren’t gonna last.
“i’m cumming.” ellie gasped against abby’s lips, and abby smirked.
“yeah? gonna fill her up?” she nodded, whining, feeling her knot swelling. “atta girl. cum for me.” it’s not as if she wanted to disobey to her voice, letting out a whimper just as her seed spilled into your womb, making you gasp as well due to how fucking full of cum you were. the feeling of it all made you fall apart once again, your knees failing and making you lean against abby’s warm and exposed chest. “did so good for me, my good girls…”
you closed your eyes. hoping that maybe just for a few minutes you could get a rest.
-
a/n; 😔 i can take them both (not in a fight)
417 notes · View notes
jaebeomsbitch · 3 days
Text
Not Another Werewolf Romance Story (E.M.)
Tumblr media
Summary: Eddie finds you reading a werewolf romance book in secret and decides to make your fantasies come to life.
Warnings: MINORS DNI, kissing, fingering, vibrator, nsfw, cursing
A/N: I wrote this so long ago in the middle of the night. Not edited. Sorry for being gone so long, thanks for the like hundred new followers while I’ve been gone.
You lay in bed with a book in your hand as Eddie brushes his teeth in the bathroom. The faint sounds of the water running fill the bedroom as you read quietly. You push your reading glasses up higher on the bridge of your nose as you become more engrossed with the story. Your eyes glued to the page missing your boyfriend walking into the bedroom.
It isn’t until he presses a wet kiss to your cheek that you snap out of it. Your eyes widen slightly as you close the book.
“What’re you reading, baby?” He asks, pulling the duvet back.
“Nothing too interesting” you say trying to sound nonchalant as you place the book on your nightstand.
“Oh really, s’that why your nose was buried in it?” He asks, eyebrow quirked.
He leans over to see the cover, playfully tugging on a lock of your hair. "Let me guess, another one of those sappy vampire romance novels?"
“No!” You protest, cheeks flushed pink. Fuck wrong answer. You see the immediate way his eyes sparkle mischievously.
"Then what is it? Something naughty I need to know about?" He asks with that stupid smug smile on his face.
“Something ‘naughty?’ What are you eighty?” You scoff trying to play it off, you try to be stealthy as you press your thighs together underneath the sheets. Trying to hide how wet you got from the book.
Eddie raises an eyebrow and tilts his head, his gaze lingering on your closed book. "Now you've piqued my interest," he says, crossing his arms over his tattooed chest.
“How, I haven’t said anything!” You protest again trying to get him to drop it.
Eddie chuckles and climbs onto the bed beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close. "Well, you're blushing like a school girl caught with her first Playboy," he teases, nuzzling against your temple. You whine with shyness, not wanting to open this part of yourself up to your boyfriend yet. Unfortunately for you Eddie’s fingers grab the book quickly, yanking it off your nightstand.
Eddie's fingers trace the spine of the book curiously, feeling its weight before flipping it open to the page you were last reading. You gasp trying to grab it out of his hand but Eddie lifts the book up.
“Oh God,” you groan covering your reddened face as Eddie reads the werewolf romance you picked up at the bookstore.
“His strong hands grab my thighs, it sends a shiver down my spine. All I can think about is having his knot inside me” Eddie’s voice drops low and husky as he begins to read aloud. You feel like you could cry at the humiliation.
Eddie laughs harder now, finding your discomfort endearing as he looks down at the page with mock seriousness in his eyes. He finally stops reading and sets the book aside. Your cheeks are bright red along with your neck and the tips of your ears. It’s not often Eddie sees you this embarrassed, you usually have some sarcastic remark to make except when it comes to sex. He never knew something like that would get you horny either, it seems so… juvenile?
Eddie looks over at you with an amused expression. "A werewolf romance, huh?" He says before leaning in to press a soft kiss against your temple. "It's cute."
You stay quiet feeling humiliated beyond belief it’s like he just read your dairy out loud. There’s something very intimate about him knowing this other side of you, one that you’ve tried to keep hidden from him. There’s a certain shame that comes with opening your sexual side to your boyfriend.
Noticing your discomfort, Eddie pulls you closer and whispers in your ear, "You don't have to be ashamed, baby. I love knowing what gets you going". He plants small kisses along your jawline, hoping to ease the tension. You stay quiet, squeezing the hem of the negligee you’ve just become comfortable wearing around him.
He nibbles on your earlobe softly, his breath warm against your skin. "Do you want me to keep reading?"
“Not if you’re gonna keep making fun of me” you murmur, eyes trained on your lap.
Eddie rolls his eyes playfully and snuggles into you further, resting his hand on your hip. "Okay, okay, no more teasing," he assures you, planting another gentle kiss on your cheek. You lean back against the headboard your body tense with mortification.
Eddie watches you closely, sensing your tension. He realizes he might've taken the teasing too far. He strokes your hair softly. "Come here, sweetheart." He pulls you into his lap and wraps his arms securely around you.You bury your face in his neck trying to hide from him, maybe if you hide you’ll disappear into him.
“Princess," Eddie coos, nudging your chin up with his finger so he can look into your big doe eyes. "I didn't mean to make you feel bad. You know I love you, right? And everything that makes you happy." He kisses your forehead tenderly.
You sag against his chest, your knees digging deeper into the mattress on either side of his hips. Eddie caresses your cheek softly, trying to wipe away any remaining embarrassment. "Why don't you tell me what happened in the story that had you so turned on? Maybe I can make it better..."
“That’d be even more humiliating” you groan.
Eddie looks at you, his expression softening. He brushes your hair out of your face and kisses the tip of your nose. "Alright, how about this...I'll turn off the lights and hold you while you read it to me?" He offers, running his thumb in circles on your back.
You swallow hard, he’s already seen it. There’s no hiding from what he saw, it’ll only lead him to more questions or to think something bad about you and it terrifies you so you begrudgingly murmur “okay.”
Eddie turns off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness save for the dim glow of streetlights filtering through the window. He adjusts his position so you're comfortably sitting between his legs, your back pressed against his chest. You try and relax against him but you feel so high strung.
Saliva pools in your mouth as you grab the book, cracking it open to the last page you were on. You can barely see the words with the dim light coming from the window. You clear your throat, eyes scanning the page, face flushing hot instantly. Eddie squeezes your waist trying to reassure you and get you to loosen up.
“Take your time, Princess,” he encourages, pressing a soft kiss on your hair. “I’m right here with you.”
You swallow your spit
“H-he… he splays her out on the bed, her hair fanned out on the pillow as his lips press against her throat. It’s been so long since he’s shared a bed with a woman much less his mate. She’s beautiful better than anything that he could imagine. Her smell, fuck her smell is addicting. He can practically taste the arousal pooling between her legs. He aches to claim her, fill her with pups” your voice trembles shyly as you read, your face flushing with more heat.
Eddie’s heart races hearing you describe something so intimate, not accustomed to it yet but he fucking loves it. He resonates with the book, you’re the most gorgeous creature he’s ever seen, he doesn’t believe in a God but everyday he prays to whatever is out there thanking them for bringing you to him.
He grips the fabric of the nightgown between your thighs gently. "Keep going, baby," he rasps out, his breath hot against your ear.
Your breath hitches, fingers shifting in the book before it falls.
“H-he buries his face in h-her…” you stop feeling a wave of discomfort but Eddie reassuringly squeezes your thigh.
“C-cunt,” you squeak, your body sets ablaze.
“-Her panties soaked all the way through. She probably soaked through her jeans if he was paying attention. He breathes her musk in deeply, it sends a shiver down her spine as she moans. Her fingers curl around the bedsheets, she’s too shy to ask him what she wants but he can sense it. His tongue darts out licking a thick stripe over the cotton of her panties” your voice grows more steady as you read to Eddie. He realizes how closely the two of you resemble these characters… well, besides the lycan part.
Eddie’s fingers move to lightly graze the inside of your thigh, your breath catches in your throat as his fingers brush against your soaked panties. You gasp softly, your back pressing harder into his chest while flip the page.
“He teases her with his tongue, the tip just grazing over her slit nowhere near the spot that’ll have her seeing stars” you say, voice trembling as his hand moves under the waistband of your panties, cupping your sex. You moan, toes digging into the mattress. You’re not sure if you’re supposed to continue or not, your mind in a tizzy.
“His fingers finally move the fabric to the side, he growls as he sees her glistening pussy. ‘Mine’ he growls.” You continue reading.
Eddie can't resist anymore. His middle finger dipping between your folds, sliding easily through your slick before circling your clit lightly.
“F-fuck” your grip on the book slacks as your head falls back on his shoulder.
He keeps his movements slow and deliberate, matching the pace of the story unfolding in front of him. He leans forward, whispering into your ear, "Your pussy is so wet for me, baby."
“Fuck,” you groan, it’s the only word you can manage to grasp.
He nuzzles into your neck, inhaling deeply, savoring the scent of your skin. He slips a second finger into your pussy, curling it to find your g-spot.
You gasp, the book falling from your delicate fingers onto the mattress, you moan, your back digging deeper into his chest. He removes his hand from your pussy and picks up the book, flipping to the next passage. "Continue," he urges softly in your ear.
You whine when he stops, your thighs already trembling. Eddie's heart skips a beat at the sound of your needy sounds. He guides your hand back to the book, encouraging you to continue reading. "Go on, my little vixen," he says seductively. If this was any other context you’d find it cringy but there’s something so fucking hot about his whisper against your ear.
You breathe heavily as you look down, grabbing the book from Eddie in one hand. You thumb and pinky holding it open.
“His tongue darts out, he moans as he tastes his mate for the first time. It’s like something inside of him snaps, he buries his face in her cunt. Tongue moving wildly as he switches from tongue fucking her to sucking on her clit. Her moans fill the room, her nails digging into her palms as she scents the room with her pheromones” you read.
Eddie’s fingers slip back inside of you, his thick digits thrust in and out, restricted by the fabric of your underwear. His thumb finds its way to your clit, moving in tandem. You feel like you could just turn into a pile of mush, already turned stupid by his fingers alone.
“Oh fuck!” You keen, fingers gripping the book harder.
“Her voice gets louder and it’s like music to his ears. He can’t wait to hear what symphonies she’ll create when he’s fucking her” you heave for breath like you’ve just ran a marathon.
Eddie's fingers pick up speed, mirroring the action in the story. "You're doing so good, Princess," he praises, nipping at your earlobe.
“Oh God,” you moan.
He reaches for the nightstand drawer and fishes out a vibrator, placing it against your clit as his fingers continue to work your sopping pussy. The squelch of your cunt filling the room along with the hum of the vibrator.
“Honey” you let out a high pitched shriek.
Eddie whispers encouragement in your ear, "Read more for me, baby."
You hiss in protest but Eddie quickly shuts off the vibrator. You practically sob when he stops, struggling to catch your breath. You were so fucking close to coming already you feel the tendrils of your lost orgasm loosening their grip on you as the seconds tick by.
You finally look down, your voice strained as you read on “Her pussy clamps around his tongue, his thumb rubs over her sensitive nub quickly. Golden eyes trained on every little detail of her face trying to memorize her pleasure. He wants to burn the memory into his brain and never forget it. She’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen especially when she’s screaming his name. Her back arched beautifully as she twitches and squeezes his tongue coming all over his face with a wail”
He turns the vibrator on again with a click, holding it firmly against your clit. He’s almost desperate to hear your moans as you come on his fingers.
“Fuck— ” you let out a strangled cry, you can feel the intense vibration deep inside the root of your clit. Eddie’s doesn’t let you think, his fingers entering you again but this time he shows no mercy. His fingers curl pressing into the spot he’s found since the first time he fingered you.
You let at a garbled mess of desperate filthy moans. His lips press to your ear whispering “look at you taking me so well, Princess. You think ‘bout me knotting you, huh? Touch this pretty little pussy thinking bout me fucking you until you were locked together, yeah?”
You choke on your spit, your boyfriend has whispered dirty things in your ear before but nothing like this.
“Yes— yes, yes, yes,” you chant
“Wanna be stuffed with your cum again and again and again,” your tongue loose with the amount of pleasure Eddie’s giving you. It means so much that this man is willing to play into your stupid fantasies. You grip onto his wrist scared he’ll pull away again. You moan in a way he’s never heard before, it’s loud and wailing, it’s purely you. It’s you running on instinct.
"Cum for me, princess," Eddie whispers against your ear, pinching your clit between two of his fingers and slamming his fingers deep inside her pussy, curling them in a come-hither motion.
“Fuck- ohh fuck” you moan, your head falls back on his shoulder , hips rolling into his fingers, hands digging into his skin. You wheeze for air as your skull digs into his shoulder, pussy fluttering around his fingers pulling them in deeper and squeezing. It isn’t until his teeth press into the juncture between your shoulder and neck that you practically scream. Coming on his hands making a mess of the vibrator, thighs shaking as you babble nonsense.
He shuts the vibrator off when you whine, pulling your sensitive clit away, and throws it somewhere in the bed. His tongue traces the indent he’s left of your skin.
“You’re crazy” you rasp
“But you fucking love it,” he grins against your neck pressing a soft kiss there.
255 notes · View notes
jordyn14 · 3 days
Note
can you please write jealousy joe??? I would love to see that 😁😁
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing: Joe x fem first person
Words: 2,020
Notes: I’m loving these requests, please keep sending them in! I hope you enjoy!! <3
Taglist: @wickedfun9
I reached forwards and grabbed the alcoholic drink I’ve been sipping on periodically while laughing and having a great time with some friends. Like every night after the Bengals first win of the season, Joe, my best friend and her husband, and me all go to our favorite bar in Cincinnati to celebrate the win, and today wasn’t any different.
The bengals first game of the season which was a home game was pretty much a shutout. Joe threw for over 400 yards and threw for 4 touchdowns, 3 of which were to ja’marr chase. It was everything we could’ve hoped for the first game of the season, so in celebration, we all came to this bar in the quieter part of Cincinnati.
We all sat at a small table in the back together while Joes hand rested on my thigh, squeezing and trailing his hand up and down it periodically, which sent shivers down my spine. As I sipped my drink, I got to the very end of it and then set it down on the table. “Alright, I’m going for another drink run. Anyone need anything else?” I asked the 3 other people at the table who were still laughing at something Joe said a few seconds ago.
From next to me, Joe patted my thigh. I looked over to him with a flustered smile on my face, the alcohol somewhat taking an effect. Damn, I was a lightweight. “I’m good, baby, but thank you.” Joe said and leaned over to me and placed a kiss on my cheek. My face flushed red and I looked over to my best friend, Serena, and her husband jonny. I let out a little giggle as Joe slid his hand up my skirt jokingly, knowing how it affected me. Once I contained myself, I cleared my throat and waited until they both said they could use another drink before I walked away.
As I walked away, I could feel Joe’s stare on me the entire time. Ever since we first met at LSU when he transferred, I was totally taken aback by him. The first thing that drew me in were his looks. Those locks that fell onto his forehead and those bright blue eyes. His body wasn’t bad either. What made me stay was his personality. Before I met Joe, I didn’t know a man could be so amazing, inside and out. I mean we’re talking about a nerdy, Lego and SpongeBob loving, funny, kind, thoughtful man. What more could a girl ask for?
When I got to the bar, I found a place to squeeze myself in and placed myself between two people. After a few seconds, the bartender walked over to me so I put in all of our drink orders and started to sing along to the music quietly, wanting the time to pass quicker. “Oh my gosh…is that really you?” A familiar voice asked from next to me. I raised an eyebrow and looked over to the man before my mouth practically dropped open. “Luke? What the hell are you doing here?” I asked in a shocked tone and instantly wrapped my arms around him. The both of us just laughed, shocked to see one another.
Back at LSU, Luke and I used to hang out pretty frequently. It was never anything more than two friends getting together, getting high, or getting drunk-even studying in some rare cases. Our little friend group consisted of me, Luke, anna who was Luke’s girlfriend, and Serena, my best friend. But, since Luke was 2 years older than me, by the time Joe came along Luke had graduated, which means I never got to introduce Joe to him and the friend group kind of broke up and became Serena, me, Joe, Ja’marr chase, and Justin Jefferson.
“Since Anna grew up here, we decided to move back. What are you doing here?” He asked me as we pulled away. “I followed my boyfriend here after college. When I get my drinks you’ll have to come meet him, he transferred right after you left.” I told him. After hesitating for a few seconds, he nodded and flashed me a smile. “Yeah, I definitely will have to meet him. So how have you been? How’s your writing going?” He asked me. “I’m good, writings been good too. I actually published my second book a few weeks ago. What about you? How has your business major been going?” I asked him with laugh, knowing back in college he had no idea what to do with it. “I actually didn’t do anything with it. I’m a police officer how. I love that I found out what I was passionate about after I spent thousands of dollars on college.” He laughed. I laughed and grabbed the drinks the bartender set down in front of me as was about to invite Luke over to our table so Joe could meet him.
All of a sudden, I felt a hand slide around my waist and looked to the side to see Joe practically hovering over me and Luke, who was shorter than me. I couldn’t help but notice the angry expression on Joe’s face and how he was clenching his jaw. I was about to open my mouth to introduce them but Joe spoke right over me. “Hey, I’m Joe, Her boyfriend. And you are?” Joe said abruptly, giving Luke a fake smile in the process. I looked up to Joe with a glare on my face at his rudeness and was about to say something yet again when Luke talked first. “Hey, Luke. It’s good to meet you, man.” Luke said and held out his hand for Joe to shake it.
Joe just glared down at his hand and then looked right back up at his face, not shaking his hand. “Excuse us, Luke. It was great seeing you again.” I said. I flashed Luke a smile before grabbing onto Joe’s arm and tried to pull him with me, but he wouldn’t budge. Why did he have to be so strong? I could feel his arm muscles as I gripped onto his bicep before I said, “Joe?” In a somewhat pissed off tone. I saw Joe look Luke up and down before grabbing two drinks in his hand while I grabbed the other one and started walking with me.
I scoffed a little bit and stopped walking before we got to the table so Serena and Jonny couldn’t hear us. I turned to face Joe as we both set our drinks on the nearest table. Joe was just looking down at me with a pissed look on his face. “What the hell was that, Joe?” I asked him. Joe looked like I was the stupid one before he gestured over to Luke and said, “What the hell was that?” I looked at him like I was missing something. What was his fucking deal? “Me catching up with a friend from LSU and you being a fucking dick before I was able to introduce the two of you, that’s what it’s called, Joe.” I said.
Joe just looked me up and down while biting his lip slightly and said, “I don’t care what it’s called. I don’t like the way he was looking at you. I’m your fucking boyfriend, not him.” I let out a small laugh and shook my head, taken aback. “What, do you not trust me now or something? When have I ever given you a reason to not trust me.” I practically spat at him, getting even more annoyed as we talked. Never in our time as a couple have I ever been unfaithful. “It’s him that I don’t trust. If you haven’t noticed, you’re the most gorgeous girl in this entire bar.” Joe said.
What reason would he have for not trusting Luke? Could he not see by the way I reacted that we were only friends who haven’t seen each other in a while? And anyways, he overreacted before he even got the whole story. I couldn’t help but laugh at him a little bit. “He has a fucking girlfriend, Joe. Why are you so jealous?” I asked him. “It doesn’t matter that he has a fucking girlfriend,” Joe said quickly and looked over at Luke before he looked even more pissed and gestured angrily over to him, “I mean look at the way he’s staring at your fucking ass right now.”
Without even looking at Luke, I scoffed while shaking my head at him and said, “you’re unreal.” Joe squinted down at me. “So now I’m not allowed to be pissed when a random man is drooling all over you?” He asked me. I put my hands on the top of my head for a few seconds before letting them slide off, shocked at how he was acting. “You are blowing this way out of proportion, Joseph. We were friends back at LSU.” I said. “Why, because I don’t want a man who used to be your friend flirting with my girlfriend and staring at her ass? You’re mine.” Joe said.
“Exactly, I’m yours. I’m yours and you are mine, so who the fuck cares that someone I was friends with a few years ago was flirting with me?” I asked him. Joe looked over in the direction of our table and grabbed my arm gently and moved us a few feet away. While he was moving me, I looked back at the table to see Serena and Jonny staring at us, knowing something was going on.
When we stopped, Joe looked right into my eyes. For the first time during this entire conversation, my face flushed red and I could feel myself getting turned on slightly. Why was this so hot right now? “I do. I care. I am the only one that should be flirting and looking at you like that.” Joe said. I tried my hardest to hide my smile because despite how much I was annoyed with him and his jealousy, he was really fucking hot.
After a few seconds, I couldn’t hide it any more and smiled up at him. Joe glared at me in confusion while butterflies flew around in my stomach. “You’re honestly pretty freaking hot when you’re jealous.” I said, my face heating up a little bit from the dirty thoughts in my head as I admired Joe and his pissed off state. Joe started to smirk a little bit but when he realize what he was doing, he cleared his throat and the smirk was gone just like that. “It’s not funny. Do you know how much I wanted to smash his fucking face into that bar?” Joe asked me. With a little glare, I wrapped my arms around his neck and tried to pull him closer, but he wouldn’t budge. So, I tried to go closer to him, but all he did was back up.
I stopped moving and then stuck out my bottom lip jokingly, knowing one of his weaknesses was when I looked sad. With an annoyed look on his face, he wrapped his arms around my waist, hating the effect I had on him. We both pulled each other in closer so I leaned forwards and kissed Joe’s lips. Not expecting it at first, Joe pulled back slightly and gazed into my eyes before smashing his lips against mine. Joe breathed in the kiss as I arched my back. Joe kissed me back hard and right before we pulled away, Joe bit my bottom lip gently. “Was he watching that?” I breathed out with a smile. Joe looked up at the bar past my head and then nodded with a small smile. “Good.” I said and turned around to look in the direction of the bar with our arms still around each other. My eyes caught Luke’s who immediately looked away with an embarrassed, awkward, and nervous look on his face. I looked away and to Joe while running my fingers through his hair. “Let him be the jealous one, I’m not going anywhere Joey. Ever.” I said.
200 notes · View notes
ilwonuu · 1 day
Text
𝗋.𝗂.𝗉 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁
✩˚。⋆ 𝗅𝖾𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗑
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
ʚɞ 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀- 𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗅!𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗑 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉, 𝖽𝗈𝗆!𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗑 𝗑 𝗌𝗎𝖻!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋
ʚɞ 𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒- 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖿𝗎𝗇.
ʚɞ 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌- 𝗌𝖾𝗆𝗂 𝗉𝗎𝖻𝗅𝗂𝖼 𝗌𝖾𝗑(𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝖼𝗅𝗎𝖻 𝖻𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆), 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝖽𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗄 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗑 🫠, 𝗎𝗇𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗑(𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌,,,𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝖽𝗈 𝗂𝗍), 𝖽𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄)𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗑 𝗈𝗁𝗆𝗀, 𝗆𝗂𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝖾𝗑)𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗎𝗆𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗈𝗆𝗀), 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗂𝖾(𝗒𝗎𝗆 𝗉𝗍 𝟤) 𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌(𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒 & 𝗅𝗂𝗑), 𝗅𝗆𝗄 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖾𝗅𝗌𝖾????
ʚɞ 𝖺/𝗇- 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌𝖻𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝖾 𝗋𝗇 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗂 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎,,,𝗅𝗆𝗄 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗍 )𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗈𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 😭) 𝗈𝗁 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗀𝗂𝖿 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖽𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍 )𝖿𝗂𝖼 𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗂 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝖺 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇)
“lix are you sure we won’t get caught?” you asked your boyfriend as moves you over to the counter. you and your boyfriend went out with a couple friends to the club. “yes- trust me. stop being so nervous baby. stay there i’m gonna lock this.“ he locks the bathroom door as he comes back you. he turns you over so you’re leaning on the counter looking at him in the reflection.
“gonna get to see how i fuck you.” he smiles at you through the mirror. you smile back at him as you feel you shirt being tugged up your stomach. he pulls your panties to the side as he makes eye contact with you in the mirror. “what’s this? my pretty girl so wet for me hmm. let me get a taste.” he rubs a couple fingers over your wet folds.
“l-lix fuck.” he pushes two fingers inside you fucking them fast into you. “you’re soaking my fingers baby.” he smirks at you through the mirror. he watches you struggle to keep your body stable. his fingers curling a couple times before he pulls them out to put in his mouth. he hums at the taste before spitting in between your legs.
“don’t be too loud okay?” he smiles at you sweetly as he pulls his pants and boxers down in one swift motion. he is quick to push inside you. you grip the counter to help yourself stay put. “fuck fuck- l-lix.” you moan as he grabs you hair pulling it making your back move closer to his chest. “this fucking pussy- fu-uck. you take it like a slut baby.” his grip against your hair tightens with a slight tug making you moan.
“lix- right- mmm fuck.” you cut yourself off with your eyes rolling back. his hips are fast against yours. “right here? tell me how good it feels.” you nod moaning out. “f-fuck it feels s-so good lixie- wanna cum all over your cock.” he smiles at you.
“you want that baby? i’ll you have it.” he fucks you harder with a smirk. the sound of skin slapping is echoing in the bathroom. you and felix’s moans and groans are consuming each other. “always so wet- you are loving this aren’t you baby? me fucking you in the club bathroom. having my perfect girl go dumb on my cock. yea you love it you just got so fucking tight-“ you can’t even respond your eyes a glued shut as your moan as slipping from your mouth sinfully.
“open your eyes. watch me fuck you.” he whispers into your ear with a smirk. his hand still has a handful of your hair. you open your eyes to see him already looking at you. “there she is. my darling feel too good can’t keep those pretty eyes open f’me?” you nod blushing a little at the nickname. “l-lix i’m gonna f-fucking cum.” he shakes his head. “not yet darling. take it for a little longer for me yea?” he asks you with an innocent smile through the mirror. “y-yes fuck lix.” your eyes shut at the pleasure.
“what’d i say? keep those eyes open.” his grip on your hair tightens with a groan from him. “b-but lix- it f-feels- too much.” he smirks at you leaning now to kiss your neck. “go ahead and come for me.” he whispers into your skin. his words are more of a command but it’s enough to have you clenching around him. you come undone with a loud groan. felix watches you through the mirror with a lust filled expression. his hips fuck you through your high roughly as he is chasing his high.
“want me to cum inside?” he smirks at you softly as he kisses your neck. he pulls your head to one side by your head as you quickly nod you head. “please please lix- want it s-so bad.” he sighs.
“you’re so fucking pretty when you beg. how can i not cum in this pretty pussy now?” the two of you are somewhat interrupted with knocking from someone wanting to use the bathroom. you jump at the noise but your attention is brought back to your boyfriend as he keeps moving his hips. “fuck- i’m coming.” he groans throwing his head back as his cum fills you up. “i love this pussy god fuck.” he laughs as he grabs paper towels to clean you off.
“they’re gonna yell at us when we leave the bathroom.” he shrugs turning you around and pulling your skirt back up after fixing his pants. “let’s go.” there’s was a long like outside the door when the two of you exited. “fucking finally- don’t lock the fucking door idiot.” some said to the two of you as people start to flood in the bathroom. you blush out of embarrassment. “don’t worry about them. let’s go home so i can fuck you again.”
161 notes · View notes
Text
Winter's King 13
Tumblr media
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: Ahhh! I almost own a house.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
Tumblr media
The queen struts down the hall, the white satin limning her figure. She is shameless as she passes soldiers but she needn’t worry for their judgments. You peek up at the few errant eyes that follow her, though many pass without even a glance in her direction. Servants course through the corridors, busy with preparations for the morrow’s departure. 
You think of asking Queen Jazlene whether now is not the best time. If she should be more concerned with her venture north. Of all she’s acquired of the queen’s former possessions, there is not a fur among her chests. Nothing more than a trim of squirrel or rabbit along a collar. The summer kingdom does not warrant the need. And certainly, you think, the king must be equally busied by the pending journey. 
As ever, your duty keeps you silent. You do not know better than a queen. You bide her whims, not your own. You follow the soft whisk of the robes hem and your mind wanders in your stead. You think of the dark gardens and the king’s words. 
‘Should I remain any longer, I might give it all up.’ He must be eager to return home. You can’t help but harbour your own impatience. For all you’ve heard of the Hinterlands, you cannot picture them well. You want to see them yourself. It is the only time in your life you really ever longed to see something entirely unfamiliar. 
The queen stops and the soldiers on either side of the door shift, alert at her approach. The do not look welcoming. You wring your hands behind your back. What can you do but let the queen proceed? 
“Let me through,” she demands, “I must see the king.” 
“Your highness,” the rusty-haired soldier drawls, “he is not receiving--” 
“He is my husband,” she sneers, “I am the queen.” She points to herself, “I give you orders, sir. Not the reverse.” 
The other man huffs and tilts his head to the other as if to say, ‘don’t bother’. The first soldier raises his elbow to hit the door beside him. 
“Your highness, you have a visitor,” he calls through. 
“A visitor?” Jazlene scoffs and steps forward, grabbing the handles of the doors to try to force her way through. “I am more--” She shakes the doors as they offer resistance from the other side. You can see clearly through the crack between them that they are latched within. 
The metal grinds inside as the lock is slid out of place. The queen blusters through as a dark-haired man stands by the left door, watching behind her as she blows in like a storm. You pause in the doorway, uncertain if you should go further. 
The king sits at the table of his receiving chamber, maps unfurled and kept unrolled by heavy ornaments. He has one arm on the chair and his other hand against the tabletop. He watches his wife with his golden eyes, his lips straight and unamused. The man who opened the door, watches with a crooked grin. 
“Husband, I have come to see you. As we have much travel ahead, I figured it was the best time for us to--” 
“The best time?” King Geralt ponders flatly, “we ready for the ride north. We must anticipate the remaining rebels and assuage lingering acrimony. We must also account for the snows that will meet us in the Hinterland. This campaign has kept me long and the winter will be there to greet us.” 
“Let the servants trouble for it,” she insists. 
The man by the door flutters his fingers at you, “in?” He mouths. 
You blink, uncertain. You step inside hesitantly and step to the edge of the other door. He pushes the left one shut and turns to watch the interaction with glee. 
“You should trouble for it,” the king reproaches, “you should act as queen and so you should think of your people.” 
“Husband, do not presume to educate me. I have had tutors all my life. I understand these things. I was borne to be a lady, to mind a castle--” 
“A castle not a realm,” he shakes his head, “this is no banquet.” 
“Ugh,” she huffs, “what has gotten into you? Last night--” 
“It is today,” he insists over her, “I am occupied.” He shifts his chair pointed and frames an area on the maps with his large hands. “Jaskier,” he calls, “come, we must determine our way through Hare’s Pass.” 
“Your highness,” the man jaunts forward bouncily and as he nears the table, he pulls out a chair, “Queen Jazlene, please, have my seat.” 
The king looks at his companion with a deathly glimmer. The lord in his cornflower jacket is unbothered by the distaste aimed in his direction. He smirks back defiantly. 
“Thank you, sir,” Jazlene simpers and sits with her back straight and her chest pushed out, “I think I’ve forgotten which one you are.” 
“Lord Jaskier,” he intones, “I held the capital while the king claimed his beautiful wife.” 
She giggles and runs her hand along the front of her robe, “oh, how valiant, sir.” 
“Jaskier,” the king growls again, “put your mind back to the road--” 
“We have it figured, your highness,” the lord rebuffs, “surely you should enjoy this time you have in one place with your wife.” Jaskier takes another stool and sits at the table, “I should very much like to know this summer queen better. You secret her away--” 
The king sighs. His fingers tap in irritation on the table. He sits back and throws his hand up. 
“I see you are no help, as usual,” the king snips. 
“And you are tedious,” the lord smirks again. “My queen,” the man sits forward, his attention on Jazlene, “I traveled the summer lands once before. You see, I fancy myself a musician and as a young boy, I would play for the courts. I never ventured to Debray but I was at Harlowe. It is closeby.” 
“I know Harlowe,” Jazlene brightens, forgetting her mission for talk of herself. “Yes, I went there often for their harvest fairs. Were you there when Lord Edmund was still alive?” 
“Ah, yes, I believe he wasn’t there long after I left for the next county,” Jaskier artfully feeds her self-importance. 
“He was a good man. Of the few my father respected,” she mourns with her hand to her chest. She shakes her head and pauses with a sullen sigh, “maid,” she snaps her head up, “bring wine for us.” 
“No wine,” King Geralt counters swiftly. 
“We have a guest, husband, surely we should entertain him according to etiquette. In these summer lands, we offer sustenance to our guests,” she argues. 
“Bring warm milk then. You needn’t be glazed over with wine on the morrow--” 
“I am the queen and I am grown, I will have wine,” Jazlene waves her hand at you tersely, “maid!” 
The king glances at you. You stand in indecision. You can defy neither but in that moment, you must choose one or the other. His golden eyes drift over to the queen and back to you. 
“Go, fetch wine,” he relents. 
You bow your head and spin to set off on the task. Your thankful to escape the tension that floods the room. You can sense that the queen’s intrusion is unwelcome and yet that lord ignores the king’s mood. Almost as if he means to agitate him. 
You weave through the disarray of the corridors down to the kitchen. Barrels of pickled foods and crates of dried goods are stacked, waiting to be loaded onto carts for the distance ahead. The king must still think of feeding his army, and now, a royal retinue. 
You claim a bottle of wine amid the hectic furor and some goblets. You’re out of breath as you return to the upper floors and slow yourself to regain composure as you approach the king’s chamber. You’re let within without obstruction. Just the maid. 
You cross to the table and set the goblets upright, then the heavy bottle. Jazlene ahems and taps the brim impatient before you can uncork the bottle. The neck moves away from your reach as Lord Jaskier snatches it instead. He opens it easily and pours the queen a cup as the king leans heavily on an elbow. As you glance over, you meet his golden eyes and quickly shy away. You see he is not happy. You thought by Jazlene’s measure, thing’s might have been improving. 
You take your place by the wall. The king sighs. He does that a lot, as if he means to say something but will not. Lord Jaskier slides a goblet towards him. 
“Drink and let loose, your highness, you can’t be surly upon the road,” Jaskier chides. 
The king does not move. He glares at his company then looks at the ceiling. Queen Jazlene slurps loudly. 
“How charming you are, my lord, a wonder his highness likes you so much,” she chirps. 
“A surprise to me as well but I think my loyalty more tolerable than my other traits. Yet, you’ve yet to the king bellowing the most bawdy ballad. He is particular lively after a battle,” Jaskier winks at his liege tauntingly and receives nothing in return. “Mm, how about a game? The king is fond of those. How about it, then?” 
The lord lifts his cup and holds it before his lips, watching the king in his cantankerous glower. Another sigh as he sits forwards and tilts a hand indifferently.  
“If it keeps you from chattering,” the king mutters as he clears the heavy ornaments and rolls the map up. He focuses on that as Jaskier pulls a pouch free of his belt. 
“This is one he taught me. The old king before him was fond of it too. The mind’s of rulers, hm?” Jaskier explains as he loosens the tie of the bag and pours out similar pieces to the ones in Geralt’s purse. “Have you played it?” 
Jazlene keeps her hand on her cup. The king continues to clear the table, pushing aside the cup meant for him as he shifts the bottle off another map. He stands and gathers the rolled parchment. He approaches you. 
“Bring these to my bedchamber,” he bids under his breath. 
As you take them, your sleeves brush his and his fingers drag along the fabric of your dress. He stares down at you, his breath fuming like a hearth. You hug the maps and he backs away, returning to the table. You take your order and find your way through the east door into his bed chamber. 
You set down the maps on the chest near the foot of the grand bed. His sword leans against the frame, tall in its sheath. You stop to admire the thick handle and its well-hewn grooves. It must be heavy. 
You tear your admiration from the weapon and return to the receiving chamber. Jaskier reviews the rules as Geralt rolls his fingers against the armrest, bored by the explanation. You resume your vigil and stare at the wall. 
Pieces are dolled out, dice are counted, and the round begins. The king is let to have the first turn. He plays the same as he did against you. It must be some strategy. The queen is prompted to have her go but she is silent. She hums and stares down at the table. Jaskier whispers behind his hand, drawing your gaze. 
“Let her play her own turn,” the king insists, “isn’t any fun playing against two of you.” 
“Your highness, I was only doing my duty as a royal advisor,” Jaskier returns playfully. “By all means, my beautiful queen, I am certain you are as a clever as you are elegant.” 
Jazlene preens in the praise. She drinks some more wine then rolls a dice, seemingly without thought. Several of her pieces are plucked up by both king and lord. She pouts. 
“Wait, what happened?” She mopes. 
“Rules,” Geralt grumbles. “Jaskier, go on then, take my bronze.” 
“I know your tricks,” the lord replies, “I will not fall for it. I’ll have your silver.” 
Jaskier rolls the diamond dice and groans. The king takes his silver instead. 
“You’ve switched out the dice, certainly,” Jaskier accuses. 
“You whine about chance,” the king rebukes and rolls, taking even more silver from his advisor. “And again.” 
He gestures to Jazlene and her brow ripples. You can see she doesn’t understand. She will want to use the square dice then, she might have the iron back that she lost. She uses the slightly rounded die instead. Jaskier is already counting her gold. 
“I don’t understand,” she crosses her arms, “this game makes no sense.” 
“It is your first attempt,” Jaskier assures her, “you will get better.” 
“It’s boring,” she sits back and drinks more wine. 
Jaskier has a swig of his own as he rolls. He claims his silver back from the king and some from Jazlene. She shakes her head and waves you over with her hand. You can see her goblet is empty as you near. You lift the bottle to pour as the king has his turn. He loses a few iron but doesn’t seem to mind. 
The queen’s turn comes and you linger, examining her pieces. Your lips move slightly. Square, square, square. Your eyes flit up and find the king’s watching you. Oh no. 
“Wine, maid,” Jaskier clunks down his cup with a hollow noise. 
You move around Jazlene’s chair as she snarls under her breath. She rolls the triangle die. Her gold is all gone. She slaps her hands down and you rescind the bottle before you can pour as Jaskier’s cup wobbles. He laughs at the queen’s dismay and she sweeps away her pieces and dice before she can lose. 
“It isn’t fair! I don’t understand.” 
“If you don’t understand, ask. Do not be impetulant,” King Geralt reprimands. “You make a mess like a child.” 
“Do not speak to me as one,” she spits back. “I am not!” 
“Your behaviour would suggest otherwise,” the king says. 
“Now, now, perhaps it would be fairer with a forth, eh? Trios always do prove imbalanced,” Jaskier intones.  
As you go to pour the wine, you are suddenly pulled off your feet. You land in his lap and nearly drop the bottle. You hug it close as you notice the king lurch, sitting straight, only to stop himself on the edge of his chair. 
“Eh, do not handle the maid as such,” he demands. “She serves the queen.” 
“She may join us, yes? The queen could have an ally. We will play as pairs.” 
“Let the maid go,” the king grits. 
“Oh, do settle,” Jaskier unhooks his arm from around you. You stand and let your nerves settle, steadying your hands to pour the wine. “You are no fun, your highness.” 
Jazlene giggles, “oh he certainly is not. So dour,” she sounds like Lady Rezlyn in that moment. Often the duchess would throw barbs at her husband shamelessly. “Even his games are dull.” 
“You needn’t play,” King Geralt shoves his chair back and stands, “it was not my suggestion.” 
“She is right. You are much too serious,” Jaskier remarks. 
You leave the wine and back away. The air is thick. You feel as if you should go but cannot without dismissal. The king roils hotly as he exhales loudly. 
“Far too serious,” Jazlene trills, “he hasn’t time for any sort of fun, has he? He must attend his kingly duties and yet, he neglects his husbandly ones.” 
The king lets out a growl. He sneers at his wife as Jaskier’s laughter subsides. The lord looks alarmed as he peeks between the royal couples. 
“Mm, suppose it is time I see to my own luggage,” he rises. 
“No, stay, drink your wine,” King Geralt insists brusquely, “you and the queen can have mine,” he grips the goblet by the brim and shoves it towards Jazlene as the contents slosh. “You will find me attending my dour kingly duties, should you think to recall your own.” 
The king spins and stalks off, hands in fists, and bulls through the doors. They slam behind him and make you jump. You blink at the wood as your heart pounds. For as much as the queen wants her marriage to improve, she is hardly helping herself. 
“Ah,” Jaskier sits with a tut, “he can be a touch sensitive, can’t he?” 
Jazlene laughs, though you hear the nervous rattle in it, “can’t he?” 
172 notes · View notes
dumbseee · 2 days
Text
prom queen, part two.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
part one.
genre: fluff!
warnings: bad english/grammar :p / idk if it’s really good tbh but i wanted to post the last part because i know some people are waiting for it shsjskks <333
taglist: @liluvtojineteyam @tr-mha-fan <3
_
"what’s taking them so damn long…" bakugo sighed, slouching on the couch, hands in his pockets while he was eyeing the corridor for any signs of the girls of class 1-a. they all decided to get ready together in mina’s room and of course, took the longest time. "just be patient, bro! the wait will be worth it." kirishima winked at his friend while elbowing him in the ribs, making the blond bark at him. "i can’t wait to see them in their beautiful and short dresses." mineta almost drooled over sero, who was sitting next to him, the boy winced and pushed the grape boy away. bakugo’s ears perked up at his words. "i bet momo and y/n will look the best, they’re the sexiest girls of-…" he couldn’t even finish his sentence since bakugo sent him flying away with one blast. "kacchan!" midoriya jumped out of his seat, startled since he was sitting near the two. "he better keep y/n’s name out of his dirty mouth." he mumbled, glaring the spot mineta was sitting on a few seconds ago.
"sorry for keeping you waiting guys!" momo’s voice echoed in the living room, and slowly they all arrived, dressed in beautiful and fancy clothes, hair and makeup done. each girl, who had a partner, went straight to them, while the ones without one would just go to their friends. "you look so cool jiro!" kaminari basically had stars in his eyes while he was looking at jiro, who couldn’t stop blushing. "wow ochaco! you look splendid in that dress! it’s the one we picked out?" midoriya was smiling widely at his friend, the brunette stuttered an answer but nodded furiously. "you look really nice, momo." todoroki smiled at momo, she nodded and played with her hair. "same goes to you, todoroki."
you smiled, seeing all your friends being happy and ready to have fun. you felt a small tap on your shoulder, when you turned around and saw bakugo standing in front of you, a hand hiding in his back and a faint pink color decorating his cheeks, you smiled widely at him. "bakugo! you look good in that suit." you eyed him from head to toe and the blonde thought he was going to explode on the spot. he was burning up inside and he couldn’t stop from blushing at your compliment, he cleared his throat and shoved a freshly brought bouquet of red roses. he couldn’t look at you, so he looked at the ground. "i knew the dress would look good on you, but you exceeded my expectations." he finally locked eyes with you and your smiled slowly faded, bakugo was complimenting you, he brought you flowers and he brought you the dress you were wearing right now.
it was the night when he told you go to to prom with him, you had returned to your dorm only to find a huge box sitting on your bed. a small note was left on top of it and said, "mina told me you were still looking for a dress. i hope you’ll like it, pretty girl." was this a dream? bakugo katsuki, your longtime crush was really being this sweet to you? you fell asleep that night, with a huge smile on your face.
"thanks again, bakugo. this is literally my dream dress." you smiled, turning around, making the dress fly around your waist. bakugo watched you with a small smile on his lips. "i want you to call me katsuki." he offered you his arm for you to grab and you two left the dorms alongside the others to join the rest of the students, in the ballroom. your classmates, watching in awe how the two most oblivious person they know, finally getting together.
135 notes · View notes
formula1blog · 3 days
Text
Positive
Carlos Sainz x Fem!reader
Summary: You take a pregnancy test after your period is late. How will your boyfriend take it?
wc: 822
Warning: Pregnancy
You were sitting down against the cold tile wall of the bathroom. Your mind was racing with so many thoughts about what was going to happen. 
You had been late to your period by two weeks now, You hadn't even noticed it at the beginning, just thinking that it will come the following day. But then your friend, Alexandra, pointed out that you could be pregnant and your mind went blank. She had seen your state and left you to calm down while she picked up some pregnancy tests for you at the pharmacy. 
"It is going to be okay either way right?" you ask unsure, placing the rings around your fingers. You had plucked on the skin next to your nails and Alex had to take you hand in hers. Otherwise your fingers would start bleeding.  The topic of children hadn't come up a lot in conversation with your boyfriend and you didn't know how he was going to react. He had said he wanted them in the future, but is that now. Is this the future. He is in the highest place of his career, he doesn't have time for a child. 
Three minutes felt like a century. Since you had taken the test, you and Alex were sitting on the couch. She tried to calm you down a little, resuring you that everything would be fine. 
You were taken out of your trance by the timer going off, signaling that those three minutes were over. "Can you please check." Your heart was racing in your chest. Alex nods and walks towards the table where the two sticks were laying. Her back was turned towards you so you didn't see the smile that had formed on her face. 
"Congratulations, you are going to be a mother." She clapped her hands as you hugs you for support. Your mind stopped at those words. Tears had formed in your eyes and for the first time that evening you finally knew how you felt about it. You were happy. 
"Omg, I am going to be a mother. I am pregnant." You cried happy tears as did a little jump into the air. "How am I going to tell Carlos?"
He is at a Ferrari meeting, together with Charles. That was the reason you and Alex had decided on meeting up. The original plans had been forgotten the moment she had pointed out, what was the truth. He would be home late today and probably tired. Maybe tomorrow is a better option. But you couldn't lay next to him knowing this and not telling. 
"Just say it when the time is right. You don't have to do it right away, but also don't keep it hidden too long. You will know when the best time is to tell. I am sure Carlos would be jumping with joy. 
-> Time skip
Carlos and Charles had finished their meeting and were right now sitting on the couch talking about it. The minute Carlos had stepped inside you were acting differently and he noticed it. He wanted to ask, but not with the rest around you. 
You helped give Alex all her stuff to put it in her bag. "Everything will be fine." Alexandra whispered in her ear and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Charles looks at his girlfriend confused, but she just shrugs her shoulders as she grabs his hand. He needed to wait for this news. It was not hers to tell him. "Thank you for having me. I will call you."
Carlos and Charles did their Bro hug before the other couple walked out of your hotel room. When the door closed Carlos placed his hands on your hips. "Are you okay, Hermosa?" You put your head into his chest and he placed a kiss on your forehead. 
"Are you breaking up with me?" Carlos sounded a bit scared. Your eyes widened at his words and you fast resured him. "No, no. absolutely not. Why would you think that?"
"Thank god."He went with his hand through his hair. "You just have been so closed in since I walked through that door. I was scared." He took your hands into his. "Then what is it that you want to tell me?" Your eyes locked and he saw that yours were a little bit filled with tears. 
"I am pregnant. You are going to be a dad." You showed the positive test to him. A big smile appeared on his face when he saw it. He took your chin and kissed you on your lips. "You are pregnant. I am going to be a dad." He looked like the happiest person on earth when he heard those words and the angst in your heart disappeared. 
"I love you, mi Vida." He placed another kiss on your lips. He went down on his knees to give a kiss to your belly. "Hello, Carino. I can't  waite to meet you."
124 notes · View notes
kefiteria · 2 days
Text
FOR YOUR EYES ONLY.
A comfort letter from Scaramouche to you.
Tumblr media
So, I've noticed you've been retreating into your mind more than usual lately. It's like you're doing a disappearing act even Houdini would envy. But hey, I get it. People are complicated creatures, and occasionally it feels safer to hide behind our thoughts than to face the chaos out there.
About this facade you've got going on. You know, the one where you're holding on to your inner child like it's a winning lottery ticket? It's almost comical how tightly you cling to it, as if someone's lurking around the corner waiting to snatch it away. Newsflash: nobody's taking it from you, dear.
Now, about those tears. I know, I know, crying is for the weak, right? Wrong. Even the toughest nuts crack sometimes. Take it from me, I've shed more tears than I care to admit, and yet here I am, still standing, still better as ever. You don't have to plaster on that smile 24/7, you know. Let those tears flow like a leaky faucet if you need to.
And speaking of tough times, let's talk about failure. It's not the end of the world, despite what your overactive brain might be telling you. Trust me, I've had my fair share of failures, and look at me now—still standing, scheming and myself.
So, when are you going to cut yourself some slack? Stop beating yourself up over things that are as out of your control as the weather. Tomorrow's just another day in the grand circus of life, and guess what? I'm your ringmaster, baby. You're not in this alone.
And those feelings you've been bottling up? Yeah, it's time to pop the cork and let 'em out. Trust me, it's like a pressure valve for the soul. Cry if you need to, scream into the void if you must. Just don't keep it all locked up inside. That's a recipe for disaster, believe me.
So, here's the deal: you're not alone in this. I've got your back, whether you're crying like a baby or plotting world domination (ugh just do it in moderation though). Just remember, it's okay to let your guard down once in a while. After all, even the sharpest swords need a little sharpening now and then.
Alright, let's wrap this up before I start growing a conscience or something equally absurd. Seriously, who knew pouring my heart out on paper could be so exhausting? I feel like I've been on a marathon run through a field of emotional landmines, and I'm not even wearing my running shoes.
But hey, if this little rant of mine manages to knock some sense into that stubborn head of yours, then I guess it's worth the carpal tunnel I'm bound to get from all this writing. Just promise me one thing: don't go making a habit out of this whole “feeling your feelings” nonsense. It's bad for my image.
So, there you have it. Consider this your one and only free pass to the sappy side of Scaramouche. Don't get used to it. Now go on, get out there and conquer the world, or cry yourself a river, whichever floats your boat. Just remember: you're not alone in this crazy circus we call life. I've got your back, whether you like it or not.
“It's okay, your world, and feelings are precious, so precious just like you are now.”
Fondly yours (don't make it a habit),
Scaramouche.
Tumblr media
62 notes · View notes
thesassypadawan · 3 days
Text
Repair Kit (Hayden x FemReader)
Tumblr media
Summary: You’re the on-set medic for the new Obi-Wan series. A verily simple, straight forward job…except when it comes to a pair of dumbasses. Who have no problem texting you in the middle of the night when they overdo it practicing…or when your new boyfriend accidentally gets out drunk. And tells you some things.
Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there’s a slight hint of smuttiness. Some drunk dumbasses and a booty grabbing Hayden.
Notes: Happy Hayden's (And Mine) Birthday Event! In honor of the man, the myth, the legend; I will be posting nothing but Anakin, Vader, and Hay stories all April long!
A little something for @ittybitty-rt ! It was truly a pleasure to write this! I had a lot of fun with it!  Hope you like it! ❤️
- It was 2am when your phone goes off. You only know this because it was glaring at you from the lock screen. Along with an interesting message from a certain ‘hello there’ saying gentleman… ‘Vader Repair Kit’. Bring. Hayden’s trailer. Now.’
- “Oh, what the hell now,” you grumble. Begrudgingly rolling out of your nice, cozy bed; you hurriedly throw on the first thing you can find. Grabbing the requested ‘kit’ on your way out.
- This was your job; well, to a certain degree. You’re the on-set medic for the new Obi-Wan series. Normally, during the DAY, you can be found fixing up beaten knuckles…soothing minor burns…maybe even stitching up a wound or two. Pretty much you just keep everyone happy and healthy.
- Simple enough. Except when it comes to a particular pair of grown ass men who act like stupid teens the moment they’re together. Who see absolutely no problem with texting you in the middle of the night. About the most moronic things…aka usually practicing after hours and completely overdoing it.
- However though, that wasn’t the case tonight…
- Before you can even knock, the door flies open. Revealing ‘Dumbass #1’ in all his grinning glory. “D-Darling, you look stunning.”
- Stunning…they must have fucked up good. “Shove the sweet talk, Ewan. Who did what this time?”
- Rubbing the back of his neck, the ‘jedi master’ laughs nervously. The smell of alcohol VERY noticeable on his breath. “Well, y-you see-”
- “Meee, I did!” A familiar voice calls out drunkenly.
- Shooting Ewan a look, you push your way inside. To find…
- ‘Dumbass #2’ sitting on the bed; big, goofy smile on his face. Arms flung wide open. “There’s my angel!”
- Staring blankly, you let out a heavy sigh. “Seriously? Don’t make me regret agreeing to date you.”
- Not paying any mind to the whines of ‘how mean’…or the ungodly adorable pout…you immediately get to work. Pulling out various rehydration items and whatever can possibly lessen the inevitable hangover from your ‘kit’. “All right, dark lord, you know the drill. Just like when you overheat in the Vader suit. Drink and take what I give you. And you’ll be sort of good as new.”
- Right as you’re about to hand him a bottle of what you both so affectionately call ‘blue milk’ and some aspirin. Those arms you’ve been avoiding wind around your hips and… “Heh-heh, booty.” …unceremoniously pull you down onto their owner’s lap.
- “Hay, what the…stop!” You squeak, face all flushed while trying to wiggle out of his hold.
- “No!” He giggles excitedly, squeezing your plush posterior like crazy. “Booty!”
- You hear the sound of Ewan clearing his throat behind you, a slight smirk in his voice. “You h-have this under control. I’ll l-leave you two love birds b-be.” Followed by the trailer door closing. Bastard…so much for being your only hope.
- Barely a second afterwards, Hayden has his face buried in the side of your neck. Nipping and sucking your sensitive skin. Hands still kneading greedily. “He right, ya know. We that…because I loves you.”
- Did he really just say that? You haven’t…he hasn’t… “You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying,” you mutter. Scratching the back of his head, doing your best to ignore the awakening beast pressing into your stomach.
- Pulling away, not before giving your collarbone a gentle bite, Hay looks up at you with puppy dog eyes. Whining a bit while not so subtly grinding. “Maaaybe, but don’t mean it not true. I loves my angel. Wanna shows her.”
- Forcing back a soft moan, it takes everything you have to not cave. Sure, you’d love nothing more than to do so; to just tear it up like nobody’s business. But right now…right now he needed you in a whole different way.
- Despite his protests, you untangle yourself and slide out of his lap. “How about this?” You coo, sitting besides him and wrapping an arm around his waist. “You drink your ‘blue milk’ and get some rest. And…you can show me as much as you want in the morning. Okay?”
- “Fine,” he huffs, resting his head on your shoulder. “You numb me?”
- Although this isn’t exactly how you pictured the two of you saying it, you can’t help but smile. “Yeah,” you whisper, kissing the top of his head. “I love you too.”
- “Good, because I no give up booty,” Hayden mumbles. Giving aforementioned booty one last good pinch before dozing off.
Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @wifeofasith, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen
113 notes · View notes
tswaney17 · 2 days
Text
I Do Bad Things with You - Part 49
Tumblr media
It's here!!! The final part of this massive fic. 😭 I can't believe we're finally at the end. I'm still in shock that I get to close the door on this fic that has taken up the last three years of my life. I have so many emotions running through me right now. 🥺
The epilogue will be posted during @elriel-month in addition to a little surprise I'm so excited to share with you. Stay tuned!! 💜💙💚
My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​
My ao3 account: tswaney17
Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕
Catch up here.
Credit to @featherymalignancy for Cassian’s nickname, Cash. 😘
Trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault , language, NSFW
This part also features descriptions of birth and complications from it.
Word Count: 7,225
Elain had spent a good portion of the late morning getting ready for the baby shower scheduled for noon. At just over eight months pregnant, they were cutting close to the wire of the twins’ arrival.
She was beyond exhausted. Growing the babies was work enough, but she ached everywhere at this point. Her boobs, her hips, her ankles. Her back…that hurt the worst. She looked like she swallowed two extra large watermelons. Elain hadn’t seen her feet in two and half months and she was praying that her toenails looked well enough for sandals today.
On top of her aching body, she also slept like shit the night before, having woken up in the wee hours with Braxton Hicks contractions that seemed to never want to go away. They were getting obnoxious at this point.
Oh! And her boobs had already started leaking. Aside from the contractions, Elain also woke up to a soaked sleep shirt and an attitude that poor Azriel was desperately trying to keep calm. She felt bad that her irritation got directed at him, but he took her mood swings in stride, giving her the space when she needed it, and focusing on taking care of Kaden and getting him ready for the party.
Her husband knocked lightly before entering their bedroom, shutting the door behind him and locking it when he saw her standing there in an ugly pair of panties and a strapless bra—which she had no idea how it was going to hold up her tits, but here they were. “Hello, my love. How are you doing?” he asked, striding further into their room. He was already dressed in black slacks and a white button-down rolled up to his elbows. It was one of her favorite looks on him. Casual but classy and sexy as hell.
“I’m all right. Better than this morning,” which was true. In the time she took to get ready, she felt her irritation slowly dissipate. “I’m sorry for snapping at you.”
He gifted her a soft smile he reserved only for her and their children. “El, you’re carrying two babies. You’re allowed to let out your frustrations. I’m here to spar if you need it, you know that.”
She knew he meant spar as in letting her yell and shout and hiss words until she felt better while he just took it. Gods, he really was the perfect husband. Elain held out her coco butter lotion towards him. “Do you mind rubbing this on me and helping me dress?”
Azriel took the bottle from her outstretched hands, dropping a sweet kiss on her plump lips before squirting some into his scarred palms and gently rubbing it all over her swollen stomach. He knelt before her, dutifully getting every inch of her covered. “You are so beautiful, Elain,” he murmured, kissing her at the fullest part of her belly.
She snorted. “I am a beached whale who ate too much.”
“You are a gorgeous woman carrying life inside of her womb. That will always be beautiful, sweetheart.”
How he always knew what to say was beyond her, but she tugged him up off the ground to kiss him thoroughly. It should’ve annoyed her with how just a few sweeps of Azriel’s tongue had every concern and irritation simply melt away. He knew when to play that card and fuck did he play it well.
But even his tongue couldn’t stop the hiss of pain as another contraction wracked her body.
He immediately pulled back at the sound, eyes scanning her face. “Are you all right?” he asked, concern etched into the tone.
She breathed through the wave that tightened in her abdomen. “Braxton Hicks contractions,” she said as an explanation.
 His brows shot into his hairline. “Do we need to go to the hospital?”
Elain reached up to cup his cheek in her palm, her thumb swiping over the stubble there. “No, it’s a normal thing this late in the pregnancy. I’ve had a few this morning starting before dawn. It’s why I was grouchy.”
Understanding lit his face and he carefully ran his hand down her stomach again. “Why didn’t you wake me this morning?”
She huffed a laugh. “Because I knew you’d go into full-birthing-dad-mode and neither one of us would’ve slept any longer.”
Azriel shot her an unamused glare. “You will be thanking me for that birthing-dad mode when you’re in labor and I have everything packed up within minutes.”
This time Elain laughed loud and joyfully. “Yes, you’re probably right.” She nodded to the dress on the bed. “Help me slip that on?”
He grabbed the fabric, bunching it in his large fists, and pulled it over her head. It was an off-the-shoulder, loose, pale pink cotton dress, decorated with roses. It looked vintage, gathering just under her bust, with oversized puffy sleeves that sat off her shoulders, over her biceps. Ruffles accentuated the bottom hem, emphasizing the vintage style. It was the perfect spring dress. When Elain first saw it at the store, she knew she had to buy it for the shower.
Azriel tugged her loose curls from the back of the dress, letting them brush against her spine. He placed a kiss on her bare shoulder before grabbing the rose-pendant necklace he bought to go with the dress and draping it around her delicate neck. “Perfect,” he murmured onto her skin, his smile pressing against her neck.
Elain sighed softly, reaching up to thread her fingers through his dark hair. “How am I still horny for you?”
He nipped at her throat, a rumble shaking his chest. “Because you know I can deliver what you need without even blinking.”
This time she laughed, letting his hands run across her body in possessive little touches.
Azriel brazenly cupped her sex through the dress, growling as she let out a mewling sound and began to writhe against those skilled fingers, searching for the friction she desperately craved. “Would you like to fuck my hand, love?” he murmured, mouth grazing her jaw.
Elain fell slack against him, letting his strength hold her up. “Az,” she breathed, eyes fluttering shut as he began to rub her in earnest. “Please.”
He nipped the curve of her ear, tugging the lobe between his teeth. “You beg so prettily, El.” Bunching up the dress in a fist, Azriel slid her panties aside, swiping his fingers over her soaked pussy. “Fuck, baby. You’re so wet for me. Always desperate for my touch.”
She gripped him, nails digging into his exposed forearms. “I need—I need,” she panted out, wiggling in his hold. “Please, Az.”
Giving her exactly what she wanted—needed—Azriel sunk his middle finger into her aching cunt, pumping once before adding a second digit. “Such a good girl,” he whispered, thrusting in and out of her. The heel of his palm grazed her clit sending bolts of pleasure up her spine.
Elain bit her lip, stifling the moan that threatened to burst from her. His fingers scraped along that special spot inside of her, building her up and up and up until she teetered on the edge of bliss.
Barely conscious of her surroundings, Elain caught the sound of the door handle jiggling, followed by a “Momma!”
Azriel clapped a hand over her mouth as he continued his machinations. “Momma’s getting dressed, Kaden. We’ll be out in a minute,” he called out, pressing his palm firmly on her clit and sending her spiraling into her orgasm.
Too far gone to care, she tumbled into sweet oblivion, coming hard on his fingers. Elain moaned, only quieted by the muffling against her husband’s scarred hand.
He worked her through her release, slowing his movements when she started to come down from her high. Az peppered her skin with sweet kisses, removing his fingers from her pussy and readjusting her panties back into place before letting the dress fall back down. “Better, my love?”
“I’m gonna have to change my underwear, but yes.” She twisted in his arms, catching him sucking his fingers clean. Elain brought his mouth down to hers, tongue licking the drop of her release dotting his bottom lip. “Thank you, husband.”
He smiled into their kiss, deepening it once more. “I’ll go check on Kaden while you finish up. We’ll head out when you’re done.”
Twenty minutes later, they were in the car on their way to Rhys and Feyre’s place. It was a gorgeous day full of sunshine, the air warm with the oncoming of summer. It was as if even the Mother wanted to grace her presence on that day with her radiance. They really couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful day for a baby shower.
“Momma?” Kaden called from the back seat. “Where are we going?”
His speech had improved so much since they first brought him home that the therapist they hired had told them after the end of the school year, that he likely wouldn’t need to continue seeing a specialist to catch him up. He was reading and writing the way a five-year-old should be and was on track to pass kindergarten with flying colors.
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Remember how we talked about going to Aunt Feyre and Uncle Rhys’s for the baby shower today.”
He seemed to think about that. “What’s a baby shower?”
Her lips quirked up at his curious mind. Thankfully, he hadn’t asked about where babies came from again. “It’s a party to celebrate the upcoming arrival of your brother and sister.” Her hand came to rest on her belly instinctively.
His face scrunched up. “Will I have to take a bath again?”
Azriel let out a snort, glancing at her. “It’s a fair question.”
She laughed. “No, sweetheart. Not that kind of shower. To shower with love. The party is just to celebrate the babies before they arrive.”
“Will there be cake?” he asked, excitement lighting up his face at the prospect of sweets.
“For my sister’s sake, there better be.” Elain’s late-stage pregnancy craving was anything sweet. Cookies, cakes, pastries, whatever she could get her hands on, she was eating it. Azriel was barely able to keep the pantry stocked with desserts for her to snack on.
Her husband chuckled. “If she doesn’t, we’ll stop by a bakery on our way home and get each of you a cake. How’s that sound?” he asked, grasping her hand and bringing it to his mouth to kiss her knuckles.
She grinned. “You spoil me.”
He looked at her then. “You deserve to be spoiled.”
They were fashionably late to their baby shower, and Elain completely blamed her husband’s morning sexual charade for the delay in their arrival. Not that she minded at all. She had another Braxton Hick contraction in the car, Azriel eying her with worry and once again asking if they should make a pitstop at the hospital just in case.
But that would’ve made them even more late and Elain knew it was unnecessary.
All of their friends and family were waiting for their arrival. And she hated being late.
“What am I going to do with you gone for six months, Elain?” Thesan teased, taking a sip of his beer.
She shot a devilish grin at the head nurse sitting on the couch across from her. “I’m sure Viv would love to pick up all the slack.”
Viviane squawked in outrage and pointed a menacing finger in her direction. “Don’t put your work on me while you’re enjoying your babymoon, Elain Archeron-Knight.”
The group laughed as she pushed herself up off the couch. Another contraction hit her and she winced, catching the attention of the sharp-eyed nurse. But before she could ask, Kaden came bounding up to her, tugging on the skirt of her dress.
“Momma, can I have a cake pop?” He looked up at her with those damn puppy eyes he knew she couldn’t resist.
Elain ran a hand through his hair. “Sure, sweetie. Only one. You don’t want to spoil your appetite for Uncle Cassian’s good barbeque.”
Said uncle was out in the backyard tending to the grill with her husband, Rhys, and the Moonbeam brothers because, apparently, that’s where men gathered. Aelin and Rowan had joined them, the former getting an eyebrow raise from Azriel at her company’s appearance.
She made her way to the kitchen, hoping to perhaps score one of those cake pops herself—she was the guest of honor, surely she could snag one too. Feyre, Nuala, and Cerridwen had been busy putting together the final touches for lunch and were just waiting for Cassian’s proteins to serve food.
But just as she reached the breakfast bar, a wave of excruciating pain washed over her. Catching herself on the counter, Elain gripped the side of her stomach, groaning loud enough that the other room went silent. And then she felt it. Liquid surged between her legs, puddling the floor beneath her.
No. No, it was too soon. They couldn’t be coming already.
Viviane rounded the corner from the living room as Feyre and the twins approached her.
Somebody breathed her name, but she couldn’t decipher who it was over the blood rushing in her ears.
More footsteps sounded as her friends and family came from the living room to see what was going on.
“Elain.” It was Feyre’s voice that broke through the fog of fear that had clouded her, but she was too numb to respond. Too nervous. “Somebody get Azriel!”
Her panic grew and her breathing turned shallow. It was too soon. She wasn’t ready, wasn’t prepared enough. The anxiety of giving birth hit her like a freight train.
She couldn’t do this.
She couldn’t.
~~~~~
Azriel took a swig of his beer, rolling his eyes at the cad comment Rhys made. His tanned skin warmed in the sunlight even with the sleeves of his button-down rolled up to his elbows. With a glance at the large window, he caught Elain rising from her spot on the couch, Kaden gripping her dress to speak with her.
Gods, that fucking dress. Elain looked like a maternal goddess in it, emphasizing her swollen belly, brimming with the life of his children. Az never realized he had a breeding kink until he and Elain got back together. His desire to fill her with his seed, to watch her grow with life had him hardening in his pants.
Now at eight months, she had reached the stage where little things irked the hell out of her. Honestly, her temper was cute as hell, but he tried to be considerate of her exhaustion and short-fuse, offering himself up to take the heat of her ire. It was only fair—he’s the one that got her pregnant.
It may have made him a primitive, alpha-douchebag, but fuck did he love to see her waddling around, pregnant and barefoot in their home. She was already such a wonderful mother to their boy, Kaden. Cassian had been right. He was so incredibly grateful for Elain’s maternal instinct.
“Something caught your eye, brother?” Cassian taunted, grinning. His brother knew exactly what he was looking at. Or whom.
He shot him a dry look that had Cash chuckling.
“If she wasn’t already pregnant, I’d say that look alone could’ve knocked her up,” he teased. “Who knew you had such a kink, Az.”
Azriel opened his mouth to retort, but the sliding glass door opening caught his attention.
Nuala peeked her head out, a worried look on her face that had his stomach tightening in knots. “Azriel! Get in here now!”
But he was already moving, dropping his drink on the table and running after her into the house, his brothers and friends hot on his heels. He froze in the entryway of the kitchen, taking in the scene for a split second before his eyes settled on Elain bent over the counter, a puddle of clear liquid beneath her.
His feet ate up the space between them in three long strides, her name falling from his lips as he cupped her face and forced her gaze on his. Azriel prided himself in knowing exactly what Elain was feeling, what she was thinking by just the look on her face. He read her better than he did himself. So, seeing the blatant apprehension and worry written as clearly as a tattoo on her forehead had his heart racing in his chest.
Her eyes were wet with the tears he could tell she was trying to hold back.
“Love,” he said quietly, unsure how to proceed at the moment.
She blinked like hearing him cleared a bit of the fog that had washed over her. “Azriel.” Her voice cracked.
He folded her into his arms, trying to soothe whatever worries were troubling her. “You’re okay, my love.”
Elain seemed to melt in his embrace, her tension slowly ebbing away the longer he held her. He gave her whatever time she needed, ignoring the audience they had around them, but it was long enough for another contraction to hit. She cried out, gripping his hand in hers and squeezing tight.
Viviane snapped into action at that. “Azriel, her contractions are about nine minutes apart now. She’s going to have at least two more by the time you reach the hospital.”
“No hospitals,” Elain growled.
That had him pulling back to look down at her. “El, the babies are coming—”
“No. Hospitals.” He could see the wavering in her face. “I—,” she paused, hesitating. “They’re not ready. It’s too early. Too soon. They can’t come out yet…” Her head fell until she was looking at the wetness still sitting on the floor. “I’m not ready,” Elain whispered so quietly, that he almost missed it.
Azriel knew that was nerves speaking. While Kaden made them parents, the idea of giving birth to the twins was the primary source of her fear. The books he read said that many expectant mothers experienced this type of anxiety right around the time they went into labor. If they were going to have any success in her having a smooth birth, Azriel needed to get her to calm down. He glanced at Cassian. “Can you get her a chair?”
His brother grabbed one from the dining room, setting it out for Az to carefully guide Elain into. He knelt in front of her, keeping her hands clasped firmly in his. “Elain, sweetheart,” her dark eyes latched onto his, needing to hear his reassurance. He kept his voice low, wishing they didn’t have to have this conversation in front of their friends and family.
Rhys seemed to sense that and began ushering people out of the room. “Let’s give the couple a few minutes.”
He shot his brother a grateful look before returning his attention to Elain. “Sweetheart, I know you’re scared. I know it’s earlier than we were expecting. But if there is one thing that I am certain of is that you can do this.” He squeezed her hands in comfort. “You are the strongest person I know. You’ve been through so much that once all is said and done, you’re going to look at me and tell me that this was the easy part. I promise you that if anyone can do this, it’s you. And I will be right by your side for every step, holding your hand, giving you ice chips, and bearing whatever you need me to bear to bring our children into the world.”
She sniffed, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re sure?”
“Without a doubt, Elain. You can do this.” He brought their joined hands up to his mouth, kissing her fingers and letting her absorb whatever confidence she needed. “So, what do you say? Are you ready to have our babies, love?”
Elain huffed a laugh, his words settling the nerves she had. “Yes, let’s go have our babies,” she breathed, her grin taking over her entire face, lasting all of thirty seconds before a look of panic took root once more. “Az, the birthing bag is still at the house.”
He let out an undignified snort. “Do you think after having that contraction in front of me this morning, I’d leave the house without having absolutely everything packed and ready to go? Come on, baby, you know me better than that. It’s all in the back of the car.”
She blinked in surprise. “The birthing bag and my pillow?”
“In the car,” he confirmed.
“Kaden’s overnight bag?”
“In the car.”
“The car seats for the twins?”
He scoffed. “You know I installed those weeks ago, try again.”
Her lips quired up at the corner. “What about the slippers I was wearing this morning?” she asked, thinking she had him.
Az rolled his eyes in playful exasperation. “I grabbed them when I snagged the birthing bag.” He kissed her hands again. “I’ve got you, love.”
And then she was leaning forward, kissing him with so much love and devotion, he felt it down to the soul she brought back to life. The sound of their family’s cheers forced them apart, a pretty blush dusting the tops of Elain’s cheeks, but she didn’t dare look away from him.
Without looking away from her, Azriel reached into his pocket, pulled out his keys, and tossed them to Rhys. “Can you grab Kaden’s bag from the trunk? The one with dinosaurs. And then Elain’s purple one as well.”
Elain’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Why is he grabbing mine?”
His lips pulled up into a knowing grin, brushing the shell of her ear as he leaned forward to whisper, “I thought you might like to change your underwear and put on a maternity pad for the ride to the hospital.”
Her cheeks heated in embarrassment, but she nodded in agreement.  
A little body shuffled closer. “Momma?” Kaden murmured, looking so very worried over the state of his mother.
She held her arms out, motioning him forward. “C’mere sweetheart.” Elain tucked him into her chest, kissing the top of his head. “You’re going to stay here with Aunt Feyre and Uncle Rhys while Daddy and I go to the hospital to have your brother and sister.”
He looked up at her with those puppy-dog eyes and damn, the kid knew how to work them. “But I want to go with you!” His lower lip quivered and Azriel could tell he was on the verge of tears.
But his wife took it in stride, cupping his little face in her palms and swiping her thumbs across his cheeks. “I know, sweetheart. I know you do. But you’ll have a much better time here with your aunt and uncle. Momma’s not going to be fun to be around until your siblings are here.” She kissed his plump cheek. “But I promise that you will be the first to see us once they arrive. Okay?”
Feyre stepped forward, reaching out a hand for their son. “Come on, Kaden. We’ll have lots of fun eating all the desserts left over.” She shot them a wink when he finally relented, taking her fingers.
After cleaning her up as best as he could and getting her a maternity pad from her bag, he and Elain were in the car on the way to the hospital. As Viviane predicted, she had two more contractions on the way, grabbing his offered hand and the “oh shit” bar as she groaned her way through it. And then promptly went into a third one right as they arrived.
Az timed them out, still sitting about nine minutes apart. “Breathe, baby. Good, love. Just like that.” His thumb grazed the back of her hand. Her grip was tight, on the verge of painful, but he didn’t dare let his face flinch or show an ounce of discomfort. She needed his strength and that’s exactly what he was going to give her.
They were immediately escorted to their private room and Elain’s vitals were checked over. She was sitting at only two centimeters dilated, which meant they were looking at being there for a bit.
Between her contractions, he swapped out his clothes for a fitted black t-shirt and grey sweatpants to get more comfortable and then sent a text to their siblings to notify them that they were in and settled, but it would be a while before they would have any progress.
“Can you check in with Kaden?” Elain asked, taking a scoop of ice chips from her cup.
The corner of his lips curled up at the question. “I already did. Feyre said he wouldn’t leave the front window for a while and had to persuade him with his baby cousin and a lot of sweet treats.”
She snorted, shaking her head. “He’s going to have a mouth full of cavities before we get home.” Elain twisted to look at him. “Do you think we made the right decision by not letting him come with us? It sounds like he’s waiting for us to return. I know that some families let their little ones be present for the birth of their siblings and we discussed it—”
He interrupted her train of thought. “I think we made the right call, love. We’re going to be here for a while and we both know that things can upset him. I don’t know how well he’d handle watching you go through that.”
She nodded but didn’t look very convinced.
Azriel reached for her hand, covering it with his own and squeezing her fingers. “He’s safe and well-cared for. Remember that while we focus on bringing his little brother and sister into the world.” He brushed his lips over her knuckles in a sweet kiss.
Elain smiled softly at him. “Okay.”
And so, they waited.
Per his wife’s birthing plan, she wanted to attempt to go natural. Azriel admired her strength and resilience in doing so. But after over sixteen hours of hard labor, he could see her resolve fading.
He stroked her cheek, fingers brushing hair behind her ear. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”
Dark circles already lined the underneath part of her eyes. She looked so weary. “I’m so tired, Az.” Her voice came out nearly broken and fuck if that didn’t just rip his beating heart from his chest.
Kissing her forehead, he murmured, “Do you want to get the epidural? It’ll help you get some much-needed rest before the delivery.” As of now, she was only at seven centimeters and the doctor had said it could still be a while longer until she reached a full ten.
Her chin dipped in confirmation. “Please.”
Azriel didn’t waste time calling for the nurse. Within ten minutes, he watched as a grossly large needle was inserted into her back, sending that relief washing over her. He peppered her face with kisses during the procedure, murmuring words of praise and comfort in her ear as she gritted her teeth through it.
Elain spent the next eight hours in a fitful sleep, dosing off and waking up not long after each time. Azriel didn’t bother to try and sleep, not when she wasn’t really getting much at all.
But finally, after just past nine, she was fully dilated and ready to push.
His wife pushed and pushed and pushed for a half hour with nothing to show for it. She was in tears, frustrated, and so exhausted he was practically supporting all her weight having slid an arm around her shoulders to keep her upright.
“I can’t, I can’t,” she sobbed, half burying her face into his chest.
“You can, love. You’re so strong. Just a little bit more,” he tried to reassure her. It fucking killed him to see her like this.
“Can’t you do it for me?” she pleaded, looking up at him with wild, desperate eyes.
He gripped her cheek in his palm, kissing her temple. “You know I would, El. I would give anything to switch places with you right now. But I know you can do this. Just a few more pushes and then they’ll be here.”
Whatever she read within his words seemed to do the trick, her brows furrowing with a determination he hadn’t seen since they left the house. Elain pushed herself up, trying to get into a kneeling position, and he was right there, sliding behind her and supporting her weight.
The nurses squawked, muttering something about hospital policy, but frankly, he did not give a fuck, snarling, “Her body is telling her to push like this. Listen to your fucking patient.”
Changing the position was exactly what she needed because their son was born within the next two contractions, entering the world with a healthy set of lungs.
They sagged back against the pillows, his face wet with tears as they placed their new baby directly on Elain’s bared chest. He couldn’t stop himself from tipping her head back to kiss her softly on the lips, pausing the savor the moment.
Az traced the pads of his fingers over the curve of their boy’s cheek, just needing to touch him to prove he was here with them. Even covered in fluids, he was so beautiful. The perfect blend of the two of them.
The nurses gave them just a few minutes with the first baby before Doctor Chen said that she needed to start pushing again. She took their boy from Elain’s arms, promising to bring him back for Azriel after he was cleaned up and their daughter was born.
Delivery of their little girl went easier than with their son. But whereas their boy came out crying, their daughter came out silent.
Azriel knew something was wrong just by the silence, but it only grew the anxiety in his stomach when the doctor turned her back on them, taking their little one with her to work on.
“She’s not crying,” Elain breathed, worry clouding her voice.
He could only squeeze her shoulders in comfort, watching as they shoved things into her nose and mouth.
“Suction,” Chen ordered.
“Azriel, why isn’t she crying?”
“She’s going to be okay, love. They’re helping her. She’s okay.” The words passed his lips even as his heart dropped into his stomach when they started doing compressions on her tiny body.
No.
This couldn’t be happening. They couldn’t lose her. It would kill him to lose his little girl, but Elain, fuck, he couldn’t even begin to fathom the devastation she would face at this loss. There was nothing he could do. He couldn’t pay to fix this or threaten someone to save their baby girl.
So, he did what any father would do.
He prayed.
He prayed to every god, every deity, everything, and anything he could think of to keep his little girl safe and bring her back to them. To take her place if they demanded it. A life for a life. He’d pay it for his child, his family. “Come on,” he murmured. “Come on, baby. Come on.”
Elain curved her face into the side of his chest, howling in a way he’d never heard from her before.
His arms went around her, that dreaded feeling turning his blood cold. The terror he felt of their little one dead before she lived was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. But still, he did not stop praying, clutching Elain’s shaking body to his. “Come on, little one. Come on!” he chanted. “Please.”
And then, a rattled cough tore from her tiny body, followed by the sweet, beautiful sound of her cry.
Elain’s wail turned into relieved sobs, as the doctor walked over their bundled little girl and placed her into his wife’s awaiting arms.
“Somebody was just so excited to meet you, she took a breath a little too early, but we cleared out her passages and lungs and she looks good now.”
His wife tucked their daughter into her chest, kissing the top of her head. “Hi sweet girl, Momma’s here,” she whispered, tears still falling down her cheeks. Tears that matched the ones running down his face.
She was here. His baby girl. Fuck, she looked just like him, with dark hair and tanned skin. He hadn’t gotten a look at her eyes yet, but already she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“Here you go, Mr. Archeron-Knight,” one of the other nurses said, pulling his attention from his wife and daughter as she handed him his son, cleaned up and wrapped in a soft blanket.
The small bundle was gently laid in the crook of his elbow. Azriel didn’t think he’d ever feel the amount of love he did on Kaden’s adoption day, but sitting here with his gorgeous wife, holding their newborn twins, he felt his heart soar in his chest.
Sweaty and fatigued, Elain glanced up at his face, the sweetest, exhausted smile pulling on her lips. “I love you,” she murmured.
He let out a sound that was a cross between a chuckle and a sob. “I love you more.” And then he kissed her, sealing that moment in time with his undying love for her.
~~~~~
Elain woke to the sound of a whimpering cry, swiftly followed by Azriel’s low voice.
“Hey, sweet girl. What’s wrong, huh?” She heard some shuffling as her husband lifted their daughter from the nursery bed. “Momma needs her sleep so we need to be quiet.” He kept his voice low enough to not disturb her—fuck she loved him so much—but she was already awake, rolling over in the hospital bed to face him.
Azriel holding his children was, hands down, the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. How she could even feel the need for him after pushing two babies out of her currently aching and severely injured body was beyond her, but just watching him bounce their fussing daughter made all those desires come roaring to the surface.
Almost as if he could sense her presence, hazel eyes slid to hers. “I’ve got her, love. Go back to sleep.” His voice remained soft as night as if anything louder would disturb her.
She curled up on her side, watching him. “I think we should get used to no sleep now.”
He huffed a laugh, patting Rosalie on her back as she further settled into the crook of his elbow.
Their daughter was almost two pounds smaller than her brother, coming in right at five whereas Ryder was a healthy six pounds, fourteen ounces. The doctor was a little concerned over Rosalie’s lower birth weight, but Elain had managed to get both babies to latch and feed earlier and she ate well, so they were mainly playing it by ear.
Because of her smaller size, Azriel already placed an order for some preemie clothes and sent a photo of her with the twins to their siblings. They asked to give them a day to recuperate before coming to the hospital in the morning. After the scare with Rosalie, both she and Azriel wanted to take some time to spend with the babies. Plus, the medical team was in and out of their room, taking Rosalie for some additional tests just to be sure everything looked good.
It was just after seven that night, and they were settling in for the evening. Tired of hospital food, Azriel ordered hamburgers from DoorDash for them to eat. Elain was starving and it sounded so good that she drooled when she suggested it to him. Both babies had been fed only an hour earlier and she anticipated not having another feeding till late evening or early morning.
Elain grabbed whatever sleep she could, knowing she’d need it when they were released in a couple of days, but she was sure Azriel hadn’t slept a wink since she’d gone into labor.
She pushed herself up, reclining on her pillows. The nurses cleaned her after the delivery and stitched her up from tearing, but Elain couldn’t wait to get home and take a proper shower. “Does she need to be changed?” she asked, nodding to the now-sleeping baby in her husband’s arms.
Azriel shook his head. “No, I think she was just fussing.” His dark hair was still mussed up from when he stripped out of his shirt earlier, taking time for skin-to-skin contact with each of the twins.
Elain had to rein in her laugh at how the nurse blushed as he revealed miles of gloriously tanned, tattooed skin and corded muscle. Her husband was a fine specimen, but he never flaunted it, so seeing another woman react to it was humorous especially since he didn’t even seem to notice her blushing, stammering state.
“You should sleep too, Az,” she said instead.
He looked at her, his lips curving up. It had been doing that a lot since the birth of the twins. The sweetest, smallest smile that crept up the corners of his mouth. Almost as if he didn’t even realize he was doing it. It was utterly adorable and made him look younger. “I’ll rest later. You need it more than me.”
Her shoulders shook in amusement. “You know, we can sleep when they do.”
“I just don’t want to miss a second of them.” His attention returned to his little girl who already had him wrapped around her finger. To be fair, all of their children did. “Fuck, I can’t believe they’re here already. It seems like it was only a month ago you found out you were pregnant.”
“I can’t believe our first anniversary is coming up in just a handful of weeks.”
At that, he laughed. “I guess a trip for our anniversary is out of the question?”
She grinned. “Not unless all our little ones are coming with us.” Because like hell was she going to be able to leave them so soon. Plus with her nursing, it just wouldn’t be ideal.
He seemed to consider her. “We could take the jet to the Summer District. Kaden will be out of school then and we’ll both still be out on leave. Just a thought.”
Gods, he was fucking perfect. “That might be nice.”
A knock on the door interrupted whatever he was going to say. He frowned in confusion, looking at her.
Elain shrugged, sitting up further on her bed. “Come in,” she called out.
She thought it might be a nurse or a doctor, coming to check on her or the twins. What she didn’t expect was for Rhys to peek his head into the room. Surprise lit her features and she glanced at Azriel, who looked equally as bewildered at the sudden visit from their brother.
“Hey,” Rhys said. “I apologize for dropping by unannounced, but somebody really couldn’t wait till tomorrow to see you.” He opened the door slightly, revealing Kaden clutching a teddy bear, eyes puffy and red from crying.
Her heart ached at the distress their son must’ve been in for Rhys to come all the way here. “Hello sweetheart,” she said, keeping her voice soft. “Come here, my love.”
He took a small step further into the room, Rhys’s hand guiding him at the backside of his head. Kaden took slow steps as he approached the side of her bed. “Momma, are you sick?”
She reached out to cup his cheek in her palm. “No, baby. I’m not sick. Your brother and sister decided it was time to come out of my tummy.” Her eyes found Azriel’s as he rose from his seat on the couch, moving toward them. “Would you like to meet them?” she asked, returning her gaze to Kaden’s.
His head dipped in confirmation.
Elain pushed herself back even more. “Rhys, can you help him up and then grab me that flat pillow over there.”
He set the boy on the bed between her spread legs, Kaden shuffling backward and bumping into her sensitive lower area.
She hissed out in pain before she could stop herself. A wave of agony washed over her with enough intensity that her stomach curdled with nausea.
Azriel reacted immediately. “Easy, buddy. Momma’s going to be sore for a while and we need to be extra careful with her.”
“I’m okay,” she spoke quickly, not wanting to upset Kaden any more than he already was, and kissed his plump cheek as she breathed through the pain. “Okay, Rhys. Place the pillow over our laps.”
Adjusting his arms in preparation, Azriel gently lowered their daughter until she comfortably rested on the nursing pillow.
“Kaden, this is your sister, Rosalie,” he announced, letting his finger stroke her rounded cheek.
Elain couldn’t see his face directly, but she did catch his eyes widening as he stared down at her, his fingers carefully tracing over her delicate features just as his father did.
“Rosawee,” he said, not quite catching the ending syllable. It would be something they would have to work on. When she kicked a leg within her swaddle, he pulled his hand back, startled.
She laughed, feeling the bed dip as Azriel sat down next to them, bringing over their son. “And this is your brother, Ryder.”
He reached out to trace the outline of his brows, the touch gentle and exploratory. “I’m a brother?” he asked, turning his head to look up at her.
“That’s right sweetheart. You’re their big brother, and they’re going to love you so much,” she told him, kissing the top of his head.
Elain took in her family, her incredible husband, and three beautiful children. It sounded so wild to even think about. She was a wife and a mother. Thinking back, she remembered the day that had changed the trajectory of her life forever. The bank robbery a few years back. It was crazy to think how such a terrifying moment altered her life in the best of ways. It brought her back to the love of her life.
It put her on this very path.
She’d face every one of the moments since then tenfold as long as it brought her to this point in time, sitting here with her gorgeous little family.
“Perfect.”
She looked up at Rhys, catching him with his phone out.
“Your first family photo.”
Her lips turned up and silver lined her eyes. “Thank you, Rhys.”
He waved her off. “Do you want me to take Kaden back with me?”
“No,” Azriel said, ruffling his eldest son’s hair. “He can stay here with us tonight. Can you put his booster seat in our car? The keys are in my bag.”
“You got it.” He grabbed the keys but paused on the threshold. “And congratulations you guys. Rosalie and Ryder are beautiful.”
Azriel leaned further into her side, kissing her temple. “Thank you, brother.” Once alone, he turned her head toward his, bringing her mouth to his for a slow, sweet kiss. “I love you so damn much, Elain.”
His smile was infectious, making her lips turn up at the corners. “Thank you, Azriel, for giving me this life—these babies. You have made me the happiest I could ever imagine. I love you.”
“Momma! She’s got my finger,” Kaden’s giggle interrupted their moment.
They laughed, looking at their three beautiful children.
Elain knew that this perfect moment was just the very beginning of the rest of their lives.
~~~~~
Remember, sharing is caring! Please reblog if you liked the fic. It helps spread my work and I truly appreciate it. 💕
While I have moved most of my fics to AO3 only, I am still going to utilize a tag list here on Tumblr. This as a permanent solution and may change in the future. For notifications, you can follow and subscribe to my fanfic account where I will be reblogging updates and snippets only. You can also find me on ao3. If you would like to be added to my tag list, please leave a comment on this post.
My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​
My ao3 account: tswaney17
Taglist: 
@nikethestatue
@reverie-tales
@123moiaussi
@duskwhisperer
@zdenkah
@nyxreads
@shedoessoshedoes
@athena-85
@jasmineandshadows
@nightcourtseer
@nivem565
@debramclaren
@illyrianvalkyriecarynthian
@secretpuppyflower
@justreallybored
@ultadverb
@the-regal-warrior
@roseandshadows
@tcursebreaker
@kingravinger
@mis-lil-red
@eloeloeheheh
@fawnandshadows
@swankii-art-teacher
@miss-bee-cat
@bookhhrelaz
@impossiblescissorspeachpaper
@elrielbaby
@lesolehabitantdelalune
@thoughtsaboutshows
@britishwings
@aelin21galathynius
@saz-griffin
@azrielslight
@bookstaninthesoul
@curiositywoman
@karsyn-b2
@elainsweetcobalt
@emilyondemand
Some tags seem to not want to link, which could be related to your visibility settings. Sorry about that!
68 notes · View notes
Note
17 Jance mayhaps (if you already did it I'm sorry, I love ur style and reading your prompts!!)
Thank you so much 🥰. I think I've officially lost the battle with my “I'm keeping these short” thoughts because this is almost 1.8k oops 😅.
As always, ao3 link at the bottom if you prefer to read it there <3
(Rating: Mature)
Send me a Ship and a Number and I will Write a Kiss
17. … to distract.
“Please, Nacko,” Jan begged from his place on the couch.
Knowing that they had an interview the next morning, Nace had offered Jan to stay at his house. After all, it was no secret that the guitarist was by no means a morning person and, being the one who lived closest to where the interview would take place, it seemed only reasonable to offer him a place to sleep without the need to drive from Vrhnika to Ljubljana in the early morning.
And maybe – and just maybe – something inside his chest was also tickling under the pretext of seeing Jan's gorgeous face when Nace inevitably woke up before him, his features relaxed and his hair tousled. No one needed to know that, though. He was more than willing to take the secret to his grave. It wasn't like someone like Jan would ever look at him that way, anyways.
Once they arrived at the apartment, Nace offered Jan a glass of wine. The bassist himself didn't drink anymore, but he liked to always have something to offer to his guests – in this case, a bottle of red wine.
And that's how they had gotten to this situation, Jan sitting cross-legged on the couch, an empty glass on the small table in front of him and looking up in the direction of Nace, who was standing on the other side of the table, with his pajamas already on and holding the bottle in his hand.
“I've already told you, Jan,” he said, a hint of tiredness in his voice. “You know that on any other occasion I wouldn't mind you drinking more, but we have an interview tomorrow and we can't risk you having a raging hangover because you drank the whole bottle of wine by yourself.”
“...Please?” Jan asked again, pouting and looking up at him with those beautiful dark puppy eyes that had no right to be so adorable. That, combined with the fact that his improvised pajamas were his boxer shorts and one of Nace's old t-shirts that was definitely too big on him – the length reaching almost halfway down his thighs and the collar being so wide that it left one of his shoulders exposed, as well as a bit of his chest hair – was definitely not helping Nace keep his thoughts pure.
He thought about how his hands would feel exploring the skin under the t-shirt or pulling on those gorgeous black locks, how he'd look up at him with his big brown eyes just like that while Nace fucked his mouth, taking it all like the good boy he knew he could be; how he’d love to kiss and bite and mark that exposed skin on his shoulder and neck until everyone knew who he belonged to, how he'd beg even prettier for Nace to touch him, to make him feel good; how he'd look all sweaty and ruined with his head thrown back, moaning Nace's name at the peak of his pleasure as he pounded into that sweet spot inside him over and over and-
Nace really needed to stop his train of thoughts right there before this ended in a terribly embarrassing situation.
“I'm sorry, okay?” He smiled at him apologetically, setting the bottle down on the table as he took a seat on the other side of the couch, hoping the other didn't notice the slight blush he felt creeping up his cheeks. “I know you probably don't want to go to sleep yet so… anything else you want to-”
The question died on the bassist's lips as he suddenly felt Jan straddle his thighs, resting his hands gently on his chest.
Nace simply remained still, his body a bit tense and his eyes wide open in surprise. He still didn't look at the guitarist's face, a million questions running through his mind when all of a sudden the weight of the younger man in his lap and the burning touch of his hands on his chest clouded his senses.
Eventually, he dared to look up, finding Jan's eyes, those eyes that made Nace's knees go weak and that accompanied him in his most sinful fantasies, looking back at him with that smirk he always had plastered on his face when he had an idea. He knew exactly what he was doing and Nace had fallen right into his trap.
“Hello there, Mr. Jordan,” Jan said, his deep voice reverberating in Nace's brain, as his hands went up to cup his cheeks.
He didn't respond, his own hands moving to Jan's thighs, over his t-shirt, while his eyes were flicking from the other's eyes to his lips and then up again and oh how much he'd like to send it all to hell and close the distance between them and-
Before he knew it, Jan's lips were on his.
Nace didn't move his hands, the uncertainty of not knowing how far Jan was willing to take this surpassing the urge to touch every single part of the other's body; but he started to reciprocate the kiss, taking everything Jan had to give him and trying to burn it into his memory, almost as if he was afraid that it was all a dream product of his treacherous imagination and he might wake up at any moment.
Their lips moved slowly against each other, his mouth opening in a silent invitation that Jan didn't hesitate to take, tongues dancing together in a rhythm known only to them.
Everything was so sultry, so sensual, so… Jan. It was intoxicating. And Nace didn't think he would ever get enough of this.
All too soon, the guitarist broke the kiss, pulling away completely and taking his place back on the couch. Nace immediately missed the warmth of his body pressing against his own.
“W-what was that for?” he asked after a few seconds, trying to sound nonchalant despite the deep blush he felt covering his face.
“Nothing,” Jan shrugged. “Can't I just kiss my really hot friend?”
At that, Nace looked up, meeting that mischievous grin before his gaze finally fell on the bottle that had somehow ended up in Jan's hands. Little shit.
“Oh hell no, come here,” he tugged at his arm and in one swift motion took the bottle from him, setting it safely on the table, and took him back into his lap, making him let out a surprised gasp.
“Well, I guess this will do too,” Jan smirked, moving his arms up to wrap them around Nace's neck, tangling his hands in the soft curls at the nape of his neck and drawing him into another kiss.
Nace didn't hold back this time, all the blood he had been trying to suppress from traveling south now rushed to his cock as his hands began to caress the body of the man on top of him.
The touch of his cold hands against the warm skin of his thighs sent a shiver down Jan's spine. Nace's hands traveled up his thighs, slowly slipping under his shirt until they reached his waist, grabbing it and moving his body so they could start grinding against each other.
Deep groans escaped their mouths the moment both of their already half-hard dicks brushed against each other, making them break the kiss, their foreheads pressed against one another as they breathed heavily into each other's mouths.
Without halting his movements, Nace leaned close to his ear and whispered: “Did you just want to distract me so you could get another glass or are you just a horny little slut, baby?”, catching the lobe between his teeth to emphasize his words before starting a trail of open-mouthed kisses and little nibbles along his jaw and neck.
The sound the younger man let out and the way Jan's hips jerked forward of their own accord, beginning to grind down more desperately, told Nace everything he needed to know.
It was still fun to tease him, though.
“I need words, honey. Or do you want me to stop?” he said teasingly. As if you'd be able to stop now that you finally have what you've been dreaming about for so long, the rational part of his brain told him.
“Please don’t stop.” Jan whined. “F-fuck, God knows how long I've been waiting for this.”
That sound, that plea, the meaning those words entailed all sent an electric jolt straight to Nace's cock. He sounded so beautifully desperate and– God. Jan Peteh was going to be the death of him.
“Oh yeah? Do I make you hard, baby?” he punctuated his words with a particularly hard thrust of his hips.
“So damn much, you have no idea. Fuck, have you seen yourself?”
Jan buried his face in Nace's neck, exploring his skin with his lips and teeth, careful not to leave marks in a place that would be visible during the interview and paying special attention to discover the bassist's most sensitive spots. Nace tilted his head to the side to grant him more access.
Neither of them could stop the soft little noises escaping their mouths, getting increasingly louder as Nace's hands started to roam all over the younger's back. They came to a stop at his ass, cupping Jan's cheeks over his boxers and pulling him even closer.
The increased pressure on his crotch caused the guitarist to pull away from Nace's neck, throwing his head back and exposing his throat as a sinful moan escaped his lips. It was probably the most erotic thing Nace had ever seen in his entire life.
However, as heavenly as the dry humping felt, Nace wanted – needed – more. He needed to feel skin on skin with the man that had been occupying his every thought ever since he officially joined the band.
He slowly licked a strip up his deliciously exposed throat, a smug smile spreading across his face at the shudder that ran through Jan's body.
“Shall we take this to the bedroom, kitten?” he asked, his deep voice accompanied with a little squeeze on his ass making Jan blush furiously.
Instead of answering, Jan smashed their lips together in a hungry, passionate kiss.
Nace took that as a yes, placing his hands under Jan's thighs and lifting them both off the couch to start the short walk to his room, grinning into the kiss when he felt Jan's dick twitch at the casual demonstration of strength as he wrapped his legs around his waist.
As he closed the bedroom door and threw a very flushed and now fully hard Jan unceremoniously on his bed, Nace made a mental note to treat him to all the red wine he wished for the days to come.
masterlist | ao3
53 notes · View notes
thr-333 · 2 days
Note
I just realized. I don't think I've seen anything about April in OaaHF. Where is she? What does she do in the resistence? How aware is she of Leon's situation?
Set while Leon is recovering from his first facial scar:
“No, no way!”
Leon groaned as the yell woke him, sound getting choked out by the bandages wrapped tight around his neck. Constricting his airway making it so he could never get a full breath, was always light headed. Although that could be the bloodloss.
“We need his portals, its not a-”
“I don’t care if it’s a transport mission, I don’t care if he’s at the very back line, you are not getting him out of that bed,”
Leon scrunched up his face so he wouldn’t have to deal with the light of day. Or the light of med bay. He wanted to go back to sleep and it wasn’t even the yelling that was stopping him. Pain flared along his face and shoulder in tandem with his heartbeat. Bandages pulled meticulously tight making every throb worse.
“It’s not an active mission, I’ve mapped out the points all Kraang will be avoided-”
“Then you do it!”
That voice, Leon knew it even past the haze pain. Probably helped that there were no painkillers available to keep him floaty. He sighed his big sisters voice was always soothing, well when she wasn’t yelling at him. Although he supposed she technically was.
“Ape’s I’m needed here,” Leo reasoned, his voice was deep and raspy. Huh Leon wondered if his voice sounded closer to it now, “I can’t up and leave the resistance without aleader for a minor mission,”
“So you admit it’s a minor mission!” April accused, Leon tried to open his eyes. The best he could make out was a couple of blurry figures until the light forced him to shut them.
“Minor but needed, lives are at stake here April,”
“His life is at stake!” Leon opened his mouth, but his throat was raw and the skin of his cheek pulled weirdly threatening to make him throw up if he tried. He tried anyway, why should be matter? “If he moves that wound, the wound you gave him is going to tear right open, he won’t survive that a second time,”
“April it was an accident, my hand slipped,” 
His future self was right of course. After all he had been the one to sacrifice his scarf to keep as much blood inside Leon’s body as possible. He had literally held Leon’s life in his hands. You didn’t do that for a person you were actually trying to kill… no matter how much it looked lik you wanted to seconds before.
That was fine. It was an accident. Leon shouldn’t have baited him.
“Bullshit, also I don’t give a crap, he’s not ready for field work!”
“The doctor cleared him,”
“Which you know they shouldn’t have!” April screeched, ugh Leon wished she wouldn’t, “Come on Leo you're a medic, just look at him!”
There was silence. Leon held still pretending to be asleep. Which was easy as he was teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. Only the jabs of pain and his sister keeping him present.
“It’s between him and them,”
“Him, everytime, my little brother should come first everytime,” Leon’s heart didn’t know if it should skip a beat or clench. It was the answer he wanted to hear- but one he was completely undeserving of.
“I can’t play favorites,”
“Plaaeesseee,” The pure amount of sarcasm poured into the tone would have shot three men dead, “Is that why Mikey’s locked up in the underground bunker within an underground bunker, deep fried and finished with magic?”
“April-”
“Or how about Donnie’s lab, which is enforced with thirty percent of our titanium stores?” Leo would have rolled his eyes if they wouldn't just keep rolling back into his head. Obviously it wasn’t a matter of favoritism, his brothers were simply more important than him, “And how me and Cassie keep getting shortlisted missions? Junior hasn’t left your side in months and you haven't left this safehold in a year? Yet guess who’s going on missions every other week?”
“It’s all a matter of circumstance,” Leo’s voice took on a cold and harsh tone, “I’m trying to keep everyone alive for the sak-”
“Everyone but Leon,” 
She called him Leon… when had he become Leon? When has he started solely thinking of himself as Leon? Why was his futureself exclusively Leo? The thoughts were to hard to capture, slipping through his hands like sand. He wasn’t sure he wanted to dwell on them anyway.
“Well sucks for you but I care about keeping him alive, even if you don’t,” 
That wasn’t fair, he cared about Leon he did, as much as he could. Leon didn’t make it easy, after… after everything he caused. He couldn’t blame his future self for being a bit weird. He cared where it counted. Leon would’ve been dead three times over now if he didn’t.
“This mission is needed-”
“I’ll go then,”
No, April
“April, No,”
“If it’s so important you need to drag him out of bed and risk reopening the slice you put in his neck then it’s important enough for I, commander O’Neil to take over,”
“You’re not who you are in the future, you’re not Commander O’Neil,”
“And I never will be if you keep coddling,” April spat, “Besides I don’t care about being a commander right now, I care about being a sister, so it’s either I take the mission or you cancel it,”
The silence stretched on. Leon grasped onto his threads of consciousness. Purposely twitching his shoulder to get the fiery pain to keep him awake. It was amazing how something could fill him with so much dread yet he still selfishly felt hope that they would go through with it. Because he was selfish, rather stay hidden away in bed in a back room of the stronghold while his big sister fronted all the danger.
“Fine,” Relief and dread, unfortunately not in equal measure, “You come back alive understand?”
“Oh darn, there go my plans,” April tossed back, a shade closer to her usual teasing tone but still tense.
Leo didn’t answer. Because he was Leo, even in Leon’s own mind. But the older turtle huffed. Leon listened to his footsteps fade as Aprils got closer. The dip in his bed bit him to open his eyes.
“Heya blue, you awake?” April’s hand gently brushed his forehead, Leon cringed as he opened his eyes, “How’re you doing?”
He couldn’t answer, not really. So he leaned into her palm. Flinching as the small movement pulled on his wound from neck to cheek. He hissed through the pain. Tight bandages around his throat feeling suffocating as he would have struggled to breath even without them.
“Sorry, sorry, just wanted to check in,” The details of Aprils face were hard to make out pain blurring them out, “I’m going away for a mission,”
“Do… t,” Leon tried to sound out, it didn’t come anywhere close, but hey look at that: His voice was raspy.
“Don’t worry about me, it’s my job to worry about you,” She pat his cheek, thumb rubbing soft circles under his eye, “Seriously, please, it’s ok to care about yourself, you should, once in a whil- actually all the time,”
Leon shook his head imperceptibly. She was wrong. He had done that, over and over again. Each time they lost so much. He couldn’t, not anymore. Why couldn’t she understand that? 
Leo understood that. He knew what it was like to sit with that guilt, that self hate. He knew how to work for others to ease that feeling even a little bit. As losses stacked everyday and crushed him under their weight.
“I bet your thinking something stupid right now,” April pinched his opposite cheek, the unscarred one that showed off his brilliant red stripe, “I wish you were better so I could beat my love into your skull, but we’ll have to save that for when I get back,”
Leon plucked up the strength to use his right arm. Greaspoing Aprils loosely. He needed to get his point across, even without words, he had to.
“I will be alright, you rest up,” April moved from his grasp to instead thread their fingers together, “I’m your big sister, I’m always going to look out for you, even if I have to do that by not being here,”
No, no that wasn’t what he meant. Leo jerked to grab her again. White hot flares shot through his shoulder. Fuck, wrong arm. Darkness clawed at the edge of his vision, plusing in time with the pain searing through him.
“You’re so………. Don’t let anyone convince you…..” April's voice faded in and out, “ We have always…….. None of this………… alright Leon?”
Leon, that was the last word he caught before his world faded to black. The last thing he heard his sister say. 
When he woke up.
She was gone.
34 notes · View notes
annwrites · 12 hours
Text
exactly what he needs, pt. 2 ♡ ⋆。˚ | pt 1
— pairing: nate jacobs x fem!reader
— type: ficlet (multi-chapter)
— summary: you & nate hang out in your room (after he snoops through it right in front of you), then ask each other questions, & he dresses & does your hair before you head out to spend the evening together.
— tags: conversing, getting to know one another
— tw: sexualization, lying (nate manipulating the truth), dollification
— word count: 6.2k
— a/n: I edited this numerous times, but fucked myself over by writing part 1 in present-tense to begin with, which I'm not always great at. So, if I messed up the tenses anywhere, please ignore it. Going forward, I'll probably be publishing further installments in past-tense.
Next post will be reader & Nate going shopping & having dinner!
Tumblr media
The next morning when you wake, it only takes a few minutes for you to remember that Nate will be there in a little less than an hour, and the nerves immediately set in.
Surely people will see you getting out of his truck. What will they think?
You shake your head. It doesn't matter. Not really, anyway. You don't much care what any one person of the student population thinks of you.
You know high school is just a blip—a very brief moment in time, where it seems like every little thing you experience can be the end of the world, but it's really all just the beginning.
People will think whatever they like. It's not your job to try and change their minds. Not that trying to do as much would work anyway.
Once you've quickly showered, dressed, pulled your hair into a high ponytail to keep it out of your way, and eaten breakfast, you don't even have time to wait by the door as Nate's truck pulls up. You quickly pull on a pair of boots and step outside, locking the door behind you.
When you look up, your stomach does a flip when you see Nate holding the passenger-side door open for you.
You walk over to him. "You don't have to get my door for me, you know."
He shrugs, taking your backpack from you, setting it in the backseat with his. "I want to."
You tell him thank you as you climb inside and he shuts the door behind you.
Once you're on the road, he's the first to break the silence. "You can listen to whatever you want on the radio."
In truth, it's a bit too early for music for you. "I'm ok."
"Did you eat already?"
You nod. "I had a bowl of cereal."
He gives a slight frown. Not a very healthy start to your day. Something full of sugar.
"Do you want me to pick you up something on the way?"
Your eyes go wide. "Oh, no, I'm fine. Thank you, though. It's nice of you to offer."
He decides tomorrow he's bringing you breakfast, and he won't be asking for permission beforehand.
You're both silent again for a moment and the truck slows as he pulls up to a red light. He briefly wonders if you know how to drive. If not, he'd be a more than willing teacher.
"If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you something personal. If you do, just tell me to fuck off and you don't have to answer."
You look at him. "Ok..."
The light turns green and the truck picks up speed again. "I noticed neither of your parents were home yesterday. Were they both at work?"
You grow quiet for a moment, a pregnant pause settling between the two of you as you look out the window at the passing houses.
"My dad was...is. He travels a lot for work, so he's not home much."
He nods, deeming it good news, at least for him. "And your mom?"
You're quiet for even longer this time. Then, "I've never met her."
Minus Lexi, you've already divulged more to him in that short sentence than you have to anyone else at East Highland.
"I'm sorry to hear that." He's not sure that he means it. He despises both of his parents and, if anything, in this moment, is envious of you, due to your lack of relationship with both of yours.
You shrug. "It's fine."
He wants more than just 'it's fine'. He wants to know more, as it's clear it's something which bothers you. He wants you to give him emotional vulnerability for just a moment. Something he can use in the future to work his way in closer to you.
"Do you know anything about her?"
You shake your head. "My dad refuses to talk about her. After a few fights when I was younger where I tried to get him to, I gave up. It's probably for the best. She made her choice, and I think me knowing anything about her would just make things...more difficult. My life, I mean."
Even if you still felt like you were chasing shadows sometimes.
He nods. If nothing else, it's one less person he'll have to go through to be with you. Two less, from the sound of things.
Finally, he turns into the school parking lot, taking his usual spot and he shuts the truck off.
"I'll get your door for you," he states before getting out.
You unbuckle yourself, not sure what to think of his insistence with the whole door thing. It just doesn't seem to be something men much concern themselves with anymore—getting a girl's door for her—at least not teenage boys, that is. But perhaps he's different. Maybe it's just the way he was raised.
Nate opens your door and grabs his backpack, sliding it over his shoulders, then grabbing yours as well.
You get out and go to take it from him, but he continues holding it.
"Turn around."
Your brows furrow for a moment, but do as he's asked. You quickly realize what he's doing and adjust your arms as he slides your bag onto your back. He's really going the extra mile to be a gentleman, you think.
Once the truck's doors are closed and he's locked the vehicle, he places his hand against the small of your back as you walk into school together.
You look perfectly calm on the outside, but on the inside, your anxiety levels are rising with each pair of eyes turning your and Nate's way.
When you spot Lexi, the look on her face is nothing short of bewildered. Next to her sits Cassie, who's fuming.
You're torn away from looking in their direction by Nate coming to stand in front of you. "See you in third period."
You nod and give him a small smile, going to sit with Lexi, despite Cassie giving you that same glare from yesterday. A worse one, really.
"What the hell was that?" Lexi asks, her tone full of concern as you sit down beside her, setting your bag on the table.
"Nothing. He just drove me to school, that's all."
"And home," Cassie says, voice full of malice.
Lexi looks from her sister, then back to you. "The two of you are not hooking up."
You flush. "No. He just gave me a ride, that's all."
"Ok, but why would he do that? The two of you never talk. You're not even friends."
You do your best to ignore Cassie's unsettling stare.
"I'm just—" You immediately shut your mouth. You should've thought further ahead, should've thought about what excuse you would give people when they inevitably ask why the two of you are hanging out all of a sudden.
Nate asked you to keep it a secret and you aren't about to betray his confidence. If you do, you're sure he'll fail and never bother asking for help again.
"Just what?" Lexi prods.
"We're just hanging out. It's not a big deal. I promise."
Suddenly, Cassie stands, angrily grabbing her bag, jerking it off the table and storming away.
Lexi rolls her eyes. "Just ignore her. I don't know why she's still hung up on him, anyway. He treated her like crap." She shifts in her seat, facing fully toward you now. "What I can believe even less, however, is the fact you're giving him the time of day. He's an asshole. He was abusive toward Maddy and wanted to keep screwing Cassie so long as she kept it a secret. He uses people, Y/N."
Abusive? You knew he and Maddy had argued quite a bit, but nothing that severe.
"What do you mean by abusive?"
She shrugs. "I don't know much, since she and Cassie obviously aren't friends anymore. But I know a good portion of it, at least, was emotional. Maybe verbal, too. Then again, I don't think she was any better." Lexi glances behind you, and you don't dare turn around, now worried the subject of your conversation is who she's looking at. "She gives as good as she gets."
Tumblr media
Once the school day is over and you go to drop off your books at your locker, you find Nate leaning up against it.
He smiles when he sees you and you give him a shy smile in return.
You put your things away, then look to Nate.
In truth, what Lexi told you had gotten to you a bit. You try to tell yourself that it's all nothing more than hearsay, and you're only tutoring—not dating him—so whatever had occurred between he and Maddy and Cassie is none of your concern.
"You ready?"
You nod, and, just like this morning, he places his hand firmly against your back.
Tumblr media
Once you're in his truck, you notice Maddy staring at you today, just a few cars away. She and Kat are both looking in your direction, Maddy clearly getting worked up and Kat obviously trying to calm her down, and your eyes widen when she begins heading in Nate's direction.
Before she can reach him, however, he gets in the truck and pulls out of the lot, leaving her standing there, staring after the two of you.
You're glad whatever was about to happen has just been avoided.
Tumblr media
Over the next week, you and Nate go to your house every day after school to study. You gradually get to know more about one another, like you learning he has a brother—which you'd somehow managed to forget over the years—and he tells you how passionate he is about personal fitness, something to which you don't much relate.
It'd been abundantly clear since day one that he dislikes his father. But that dislike—even if he talks about him very little—clearly, somewhere along the way, became loathing. It's all in the tone he uses, the language he uses when he's brought up.
But the thing that always seems to calm him—make him happier—is talking about you.
He asks you every question in the book: favorite food, color, flower, song, type of music, art, what you want to be when you graduate, the kind of house you want to live in. The list is endless.
And then the day came when he asked to see your room, with you standing awkwardly in the doorway as he surveys every inch.
He starts with your bed, your fluffy white comforter with small pink flowers printed across it, and your plethora of pillows. And then he notices the small brown teddy bear leaned back against said pillows. He briefly picks it up, smirking to himself, then looking at you.
“Do you sleep with this?”
Your face goes blood-red. “Y-yes.”
He studies it for a moment longer, making a mental note to one day buy you one himself, wanting you to sleep with one that’s come from him instead.
In truth, while you think about you sleeping with a stuffed animal as embarrassing—at least for another person to now know about—it’s a major fucking turn-on for him. You’re that innocent that you still sleep with a teddy.
He sets it back down, throwing a “that’s very sweet” your way before moving on to your bookshelves.
Not that he’s read or heard of the grand majority of the novels you have, he can tell by the titles and covers alone that they’re all either romance or fantasy. He supposes he understands that: you trying to escape through stories. Stories where you can go somewhere else, be someone else. Have a new family, new friends.
And then he thinks it incredibly sad—just how lonely you are.
It’s not like he isn’t already aware of it, because he is—has became more and more so as the last week has gone on. Everyday he’s come to your house it’s been empty. But to see your shelves crammed full of books—your one attempt at escaping into a better life—he vows in that moment to start working faster at bringing the two of you together into a relationship.
You need him.
You like stories about princesses trapped in towers and white knights coming to save them? Then that’s exactly what he’ll be for you. He’ll rescue you from the lonely hell you’re living in and give himself to you fully. He’ll dedicate all of his time that he can to you. And he plans to spoil you fucking rotten.
He looks over the various trinkets you have set on—and on top of—those shame shelves. Porcelain figurines of unicorns and cats, a small jeweled crown, some candles and a few faux plants.
He turns back to you. “Which one is your favorite?”
You shift nervously from one foot to the other. “The Lord of the Rings, actually. I…I really like Éowyn and Faramir’s story.”
He nods.
He’s never watched the movies, and has obviously never read the book, so he makes a mental note to at least do some reading on the characters you’ve mentioned to understand you better.
He then looks over your entertainment center and the small collection of DVDs you have alphabetically organized in one of the cubbies. Beauty and the Beast, Ever After, Stardust, The Last Unicorn, The Princess Bride, among a few others.
He then steps over to your closet and pulls the doors open without even asking your permission first.
You don’t much react to him doing so, supposing that everything in there you’ve worn to school at some point anyway.
He’s met with skirts and sweaters and dress blouses. Another thing he’s going to have to change—your wardrobe. It isn’t exactly “frumpy”, but it isn’t feminine enough for his taste, either. He wants your clothes to reflect who you truly are. Sun and baby doll dresses, and tennis skirts with the right pretty tops will suit you far better. Sandals and delicate flats. Your hair curled and actually down for once, perhaps with a bow in it. And he’ll buy you a few nice pieces of expensive jewelry as well. Maybe take you on a shopping trip to Tiffany one day.
He closes the doors in front of him.
What he really wants is to go through not just your bedside table, but also the top drawers of your dresser. He's curious if you've ventured into the territory of lingerie and sex-toys yet. And if so, what your preferences are.
He doesn't like to imagine you using more than a vibrator on your clit to get yourself to orgasm. As for lingerie, he doubts that you own any, but he often pictures you in lacy panties and pastel teddy nightgowns.
He adds such things to his mental shopping list of things to one day buy you.
Speaking of orgasms, however, he'd come thinking of you nearly every night for the past week.
He imagined you on his bed, naked, your pussy soaked for him, your legs spread wide as he teased you until you were begging for him to put himself inside of you.
He imagined all the things he'd teach you in bed, sure that you're inexperienced.
And only after you promised him that you're his—belonged to him and wanted no one and nothing else but him—did he finally join your two bodies together.
Finally, he sits on the edge of your bed. He then glances to the chair which hangs from the ceiling in the back left corner of your room, directly facing where he now sits.
You walk over, sitting in it.
He then lays back on your bed, feet still planted firmly on the floor, arms folded behind his head—God, he’s so tall.
“Do you not get lonely here?” He asks, turning his head to look at you.
You lift one of your socked-feet onto the chair, wrapping your arms around your bent knee. You shrug.
He shakes his head. “Don’t do that.”
Your brows furrow. “Do what?”
“Act like you being left alone all the time doesn’t matter. It matters; you matter.”
You remain quiet. Then, “I’m used to it. I like being alone.”
He refuses to believe that, knows it’s bullshit.
You’d only spent a week together, and only a little over an hour every day at that, but it’d not taken but a couple of days for you to—at times—talk his ear off. At one point, it’d nearly gotten on his last nerve, until his stomach dropped and heart broke when he realized why: how fucking long had it been since you’d had someone—anyone—to really talk to? Someone who bothered to truly listen? How long had you stayed silent, withdrawing further and further into yourself, until you’d built up an entire fantasy world within your mind and soul, which became your new reality?
And so he promised to himself—and mentally to you—that he’d never, even if it were true—tell you he doesn’t care what you have to say. He won’t be just one more person to hurt and let you down. Just like he knows you won’t be as much to him.
You’re good for him. He could tell as much from the first day he spoke to you.
He stares at you for a moment, making you squirm. “I don’t believe that.”
“Ok.” You don’t particularly feel like arguing. He can believe whatever he wishes.
He frowns. He dislikes that you don’t seem to much care what his opinion of you is. He supposes it’s a strange dichotomy. Going from Cassie who, it was all she cared about, to you, who clearly can’t care less.
“You’re really telling me that talking to barely anyone at school, except occasionally Lexi, and being alone in this house all the time doesn’t ever get to you?”
You shrug. “It’s just what I’m used to.”
In all the talking to him you’d done over the past week, all of it had been surface-level. About history or the new book you were reading, or something you’d read in a news article. None of it was actually truly about you.
If his plan to get in deeper with you—to know you like no other person on the planet does—is going to work, then you need to give him more.
“What if it wasn’t?”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugs, looking up to the ceiling. “What if we started hanging out more often than just when we study after school? We could text or something, too.”
You appreciate his being concerned for you, you think it really kind of him. Even if makes you the least bit uncomfortable. You tell yourself it’s simply because it’s something you’re not used to: someone showing genuine concern for you.
“I don’t want to be a burden.”
He looks at you again. “You wouldn’t be. I like spending time with you.”
You’re not sure how to respond, so you just say thanks.
“I feel like for the last week I’ve done nothing but ask you questions about yourself. Is there anything you want to know about me?”
He’ll never admit it, but your lack of interest in him hurts his feelings. It makes him feel like you aren’t nearly as attracted to him as he is to you.
“I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
He smirks. So that’s why. Always so fucking considerate; his sweet girl.
“You won’t.”
You think for a moment. The things you really want to ask him about are too personal this early on (even if you’d told yourself such things were none of your business, you can’t help wanting answers). Like why he despises his dad so much, and what happened with him and Maddy and Cassie. And what happened at that New Year’s party which landed him in the hospital?
You start smaller. “What made you want to play football?”
He considers giving you some bullshit answer—which will seem a plausible enough explanation—and giving you the actual truth. Finally, he decides on both. “It gives me something to do, for one. A reason to push myself harder. It gives me something to focus on. And football is a contact sport. So when I’m pissed off, I finally have something to take it out on.”
“Like when you’re angry with your dad?”
He grows silent.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”
He shakes his head. “It’s ok. It’s not like I’ve exactly been subtle about my dislike of him.”
He doesn’t elaborate further than that.
“So…what’s your favorite color?”
He laughs. “I don’t know. Black, I guess.”
Somehow it seems fitting for him.
He looks at you, able to read you. “But that’s not the kind of question you want to be asking, is it?”
“I don’t want to overstep boundaries.”
He leans up on one elbow. “Then how about we make it fair? You ask me one actually personal question, and then I ask you one. And we both have to answer. No matter what. As soon as one of us refuses to, I head home.”
You think about it for a moment, worried about the sorts of things he may ask, but you have an out. “Deal.”
He smiles. “Alright, ladies first.”
“Will you tell me what happened during New Year’s?”
He sits up fully then. “Fezco smashed a bottle over my head, then beat me within an inch of my life. He got the upper hand immediately by doing what he did with the liquor bottle. He almost fucking killed me, all for a worthless druggy.”
Your brows furrow. “Who?”
“Rue went to him with some made-up story about me harassing her and some friend of hers online. When in reality I want nothing to do with her. So then he threatened to kill me and finally fucking tried to.”
“Why would she do something like that?” It feels like he isn’t giving you the whole story. He’s laid out the edges of a puzzle, but is withholding the middle.
He shrugs. “She’s a drug addict, how should I know?”
Before you can reply, can think of a polite way to say: so what’s the real story here, he takes his turn.
“How come we were never friends?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, we’ve known each other since we were five-years-old. We grew up together, have known each other for over a decade now. And only in the last week have we really finally talked, or spent any amount of time together.”
You lean back in your seat. “Well, just because you grow up with someone doesn’t mean that fact has to serve as some prerequisite to becoming best friends or something. Sometimes people, even from a young age, just don’t click. You were always running around on the playground, playing sports with others. I was always sitting off to the side and reading or coloring or playing with toys. I guess you were just more outgoing than me.”
“You know what they say: opposites attract.”
You tell yourself he’s just referring to friendship.
He lays back again. “Well, it may’ve only taken eleven years, but we’re friends now. I just… I just wonder what things might’ve been like had it happened sooner.” He sighs, then, “Your turn again.”
To an extent, you wonder that, too. Mostly just what it would’ve been like to have a best friend for that long.
“What happened between you, Maddy, and Cassie?”
“Not going to give me an easy one, huh?”
You let out a small laugh.
“Me and Maddy had been together since sophomore year. I guess we just grew comfortable with one another, even if we weren’t always happy. Even if it wasn’t always healthy. It didn’t start out toxic. We were happy at first. For awhile. A long while. But she just…it was like she wasn’t pleased unless we were fighting and then making up.
“It was just a constant cycle of her beating me down, then trying to build me back up again through sex. She just…she made me feel like shit about myself. As both her boyfriend and a man. It was like it wasn’t bad enough: the shit I dealt with at home with my dad. She just had to become one more problem in my life that I was forced to deal with.
“I’d hoped that if I loved her hard enough, if I gave her enough, she’d love me back the way I wanted to be loved. The way I loved her. Turns out I was just a fucking idiot.”
Tears sting your eyes. You feel so sorry for him. To be so young and to have already known an emotionally abusive relationship was heartbreaking. It was one reason why you refused to date at such a young age. You were all too young to understand yourselves, nevermind another person. Not in the context of loving and taking care of them, at least. You all were barely even fully-formed people yet.
So that was what Lexi had been referring to before. Just like everything, there were always two sides.
“And Cassie?” You ask, softly.
A muscle in his jaw feathers. “Just a giant fucking mistake. We first hooked up a couple weeks after Maddy and I had broken up…again. It happened on New Year’s Eve. I just…maybe I was trying to get even for what Maddy had done to me at the beginning of the school year—fucking a guy in the pool at McKay’s house—right in front of everyone.
"And then we hung out more, and at first I thought she was different. Maybe better for me. Until she started blowing up my phone with hundreds of calls and texts, screaming one night in my room about how crazy she was, how she’d never let me be with anyone else. How she was better for me than all the rest.”
Your brows raise. That unhinged? Cassie had always seemed so sweet and demure to you. But you’d also hardly ever been around her outside of school.
And dating—being in relationships—seemed to sometimes bring out the worst in people. Facets they themselves didn’t even know they had.
“I’m sorry, Nate. I never knew Cassie was so…” You trail off, until he fills in the rest for you.
“Psychotic?”
You laugh. “I wasn’t going to say it like that, but…” You shift legs, wrapping your arms around your other one now. “Your turn.”
He remains lying back, wanting this question to come off as something he’s casually asking. Whereas, in reality, he’ll be holding onto every word of your answer.
“Have you ever dated before?”
You feel like you suddenly want to use your out, but refrain. It’s a simple enough question, with a simple answer. “No.”
He looks over at you. “Never?”
You shake your head. “Nu-uh.”
His brows raise. He’d never known you to have a boyfriend before, but until recently he’d not exactly kept tabs on you.
It surprises him.
“Have you never kissed anyone or had sex?” He prays the answer to both is no. Also hopes you don’t cut his questioning you short.
You’re quiet for a moment, the two of you just staring at one another. Until, finally, you decide to answer. “No. And I’m not ashamed to say it. Not having done either of those things is a choice, just like having done them is as well.”
He sits up, hunching over to try and hide the erection he can feel forming.
No one has ever been inside of you—not in your mouth, not in your pussy, and not in your ass. Another pair of lips have never even touched your own, another tongue has never tasted you. Another pair of eyes has never explored your lovely naked body.
He wants to know what you do, then, to satiate yourself when the mood strikes. Do you rub at your clit until you come? Do you finger yourself—he wonders if your hymen is still intact? Do you bunch a pillow up between your legs, humping it until you've finished and the case is soaked? Or do you take and rub your teddy against your wet, needy pussy until you’re sore and can’t take it anymore?
God he wants to know what you fucking taste like. Wants to feel your fingers in his hair as he goes down on you. Needs to know what your perfect pussy feels like around his cock.
But he knows it’s too soon for any of that. For you, at least.
“That’s not something to be ashamed of. Not nowadays. You should be proud of yourself for having held out this long. I admire it.”
You shrug. “It’s not that hard to do.”
He smirks. “That’s because you’ve never done it before. Once you’ve been with someone in that way…giving up that kind of intimacy is difficult.”
You think any kind of intimacy must be hard to let go of after having it. Whether it’s emotional, intellectual, physical…sexual. Maybe it’s one more reason you keep most people at arm’s-length. If you never let anyone in, then you’ll never have to worry about losing them.
You clear your throat. “My turn.”
He lays back again.
“Can I ask about your dad?”
He flexes his jaw. “What about him?”
“Why do you hate him so much?”
There’s a long pause and then he finally sits up. “I guess it’s time for me to go.”
You plant both of your feet on the floor, now sitting on the edge of your swing-chair. “You don’t have to. I’m sorry. I was just curious. Since he always seems so…perfect, you hating him, I guess, is just a source of confusion for me. Then again, maybe that perfection is the source of it: your hate. I don’t know.”
“That’s part of it. But not all.” And that’s all the answer he’s willing to give you.
Letting onto his hate for his father in the first place was a mistake. But that loathing sometimes seeped out. And he feels like he can be honest with you. He trusts you. So, sometimes he lets go a little. That lid he keeps so tightly screwed slips loose sometimes in your presence.
He stands and you fill with guilt.
You’d gone too far. You’d known better—that asking about his father would end up being a mistake—but you’d brought him up anyway. And now you’d ruined the day.
“You really don’t have to leave. We can talk about something else?”
He pretends to consider that for a moment. When in reality, he’s all too-pleased that you’re so eager for him to stay.
Then, he steps over to you, standing in front of your seat, towering over you as you look up at him. He briefly thinks that this would be a perfect position for the both of you to be in as you take him into your mouth.
Then, he kneels down. One week was all it had taken for you to bring him to his knees.
He reaches up, grabbing either of the ropes the chair hangs from from on either side of you. “It’s Friday.”
You smile nervously. “That’s very observant of you.”
He smiles, letting out a small chuckle. “I just mean that it’s only four o’ clock; still early. We could go do something together.”
He begins to lightly swing you, just barely.
“Like what?” You ask quietly.
He shrugs. “Whatever you want. I could take you to dinner, take you shopping. I’ll take you wherever you want to go, even if you just want to drive around.”
You don’t know how to respond to his offer. “You don’t have anywhere else you need to be?”
“Not at all.” He wants so desperately to touch you, but he sees you like a newborn fawn, easily frightened; skittish. So he refrains. For now at least.
You glance to the set of glass doors beside the two of you which lead into your backyard. At the sun still high in the sky and tree branches blowing lightly in the wind. And then you look back to Nate, seeing no good reason to waste such a beautiful day cooped up inside.
“Okay.”
He smiles. “Good.” He stands, offering you his hand.
You take it, doing the same. “I’ll just be a minute, I need to change again. Don’t really want to go out in sweats.”
He nods, going to leave, then stops by your closet. He pulls the doors open and you watch as he pulls out a light-pink sundress, then turns back to you, holding it out in your direction.
“You don’t have to wear it, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen it on you at school before. Just thought it might look nice.”
You gently take the dress from him.
He speaks before you can tell him no. “I’ll be waiting in the living room. Take your time.”
Once the door has shut behind him, you look down at the dress in your hands, then at the things you usually wear—the clothes you feel most comfortable in—beckoning you from your closet.
Tumblr media
While you dress, Nate leans back on the couch, hoping you wear what he’s picked out for you. In truth, he wants to dress every inch of you. He wants to do your hair, your makeup—even if you never wear any. He wants to pick out a cute matching pair of lingerie for you—so only he knows what’s under your clothes—your shoes, your jewelry, even your perfume.
He isn’t sure why it means so much to him—perhaps it’s just another thing he feels the need to have control over. He wants you to look nice. He knows you’re capable of matching his ideal picture of what he wants you to be in his head.
Tumblr media
When you finally emerge from your bedroom fifteen minutes later—you’d spent half of that time sitting on your bed considering putting the dress away—he’s left speechless.
You’d put on the dress, along with a cute pair of sandals, your toes already painted a pleasant shade of pink, which just so happens to match the item you’re now wearing. And between your breasts hangs a necklace.
You stand in the entryway awkwardly, one of your hands clutching your other arm. “I feel ridiculous,” you whisper, your face red.
He stands, coming to position himself in front of you. “You look beautiful.”
You’re surprised by his response. Wearing something which shows off so much of your body makes you want to crawl out of your skin.
You’d considered putting on a cardigan to cover your arms, but it’s almost ninety-degrees outside. So you decided against it.
He reaches around to the base of your ponytail, his thumb, index and middle finger gripping your hairband. “May I?” He asks, looking down at you.
You feel dumbstruck by the sensation of the base of your hair in his grip, so you just nod.
He gently pulls the band free, your hair falling over your shoulders and down your back, coming to rest just above your ass.
He’s never seen hair as long as yours before. Why the hell do you keep it up all the time?
He flexes his hand, the holder now firmly around his wrist and he reaches up with both of his hands, running his fingers through your soft hair, massaging your scalp as he styles it.
You just stare up at him, his face the picture of concentration as his fingers work against your head, through your long strands of hair. Your eyelids droop just a bit out of the feeling of relaxation that comes over you, goosebumps rising on your arms.
Nate takes note of that, as well as the quiet whimper in the back of your throat as his fingers brush against the base of your neck for just a moment. He likes that you like the way he’s touching you. He wants to know what other places his fingers and hands could explore that would get him similar results.
Finally, once he deems your hair presentable to his personal satisfaction, half of it falling down your back, the other half split evenly over both of your shoulders, he slips one hand into his pocket, the other coming to rest under your chin, making you look up at him again.
He feels blood rush to his cock at the flushed, lax look on your face as your hooded eyes stare up into his own.
“Why don’t you wear your hair down more often? It looks very pretty like this.”
“It gets in my way,” you state, your voice now having a dreamy quality to it.
He really likes you like this. All soft and submissive and dressed how he likes. He wants you wrapped around his finger sooner rather than later. Completely his in every single fucking way imaginable.
Today will be one step closer to getting that future.
He deems what you’ve said a good enough answer, but he knows you’ll have to get used to it. Your hair being down suits you far better than it being up.
He steps away, walking over to the door, holding it open for you.
Once you’ve locked it behind you, he holds open the passenger side door of his truck for you, same as always, shutting it firmly once you’re inside.
30 notes · View notes
starfxkr · 7 hours
Text
western nights (pt. 1)
Tumblr media
pairing: older!trailer park!jj x reader
summary: jj maybank knows he's too old to be messing around with a young girl like you, but he does it anyways
warnings: age gap, smut (fingering), that's p much it.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
jj was known for bein a sleaze around the trailer park. a two time felon who's doing his best to lay low by taking odd jobs around the complex so the feds don't come knocking at his door. you could catch him doing anything from mowing lawns to helping out the grandmas who's sons long stopped coming to check on them. girls came and went out of his trailer at all times of the day--clothes askew and hair messy.
but once he set his eyes on you, everyone else went out the window. he'd known of you of course, having grown up in the complex you're whole life but you were nothing more than one of many little shits running around in a little conglomerate of cheese puff fingers and sugar highs. he paid you no mind, maybe you were one of the kids he's bought crappy water pistols for, maybe not. one summer though, one summer he's on your lawn fixing your car because your mom asked, and there you were-- sitting pretty on your lawn chair reading some trashy book in what he thinks is the smallest dress he's ever seen.
the two of you lock eyes and from then on he's always finding a reason to sniff around you.
each time you pass by jj's place he lets out a whistle, sayin "wish the girls looked as good as you when i was that age." and you just roll your eyes and keep walking. he always finding something to fix around your house and your mom becomes more and more enamored with him not noticing he only has eyes for you.
it all comes to a head during a birthday party--your mom's to be exact. the whole little block is drinking, kids running around, barbecue in the air but you're sitting across from him in his too hot trailer trying to wrangle a beer out of him.
"you even old enough to drink yet? you still got one baby fat on ya." he pinches your cheek and you smack him away with a scoff, leaning over with your hands on either sides of his hips on the couch
"does it matter? you're gonna give it to me anyways." the little pout on you face makes his dick twitch in his jeans, and he makes no effort to hide his growing erection.
"nuh uh little girl, gonna need to see some i.d." you squeak when he pats your ass to 'search' for your wallet, fingers dancing at the hem of your denim skirt and sliding up you shirt to cup your breast, "feels like you're old enough to me."
your eyes flutter shut when he swipes a calloused thumb across your nipple, a tiny hmph of pleasure works it's way past your lips when he pinches the soft flesh.
the beer is quickly forgotten when he lifts your shirt off, wasting no time in getting his mouth on you--licking the sweat from the valley of your breasts and sucking on your neck as you move to sit on his lap.
"should we even be doin this? y'know my mama's realll sweet on you." you pull away from him but make no move to leave.
jj just scoffs and waves it away, running a hand through his blonde hair in irritation, "lots of women are, nothin new, been this way as long as i can remember but it never mattered to me much."
you can tell he wants this conversation to be over, his eyes raking over your body and his fingers tugging at the button to your skirt even as you cross your arms in front of you, "if she finds out we're fucked."
he shrugs, "then don't let her find out."
that's all you need to continue, letting him capture your lips with his, his rough hands travel over your soft skin, stoking the fire building steadily inside of you. despite your veneer of coolness, he can feel your pulse throbbing in your neck under his palm.
"you scared of me or somethin?" his voice is raspy when he whispers against your jaw.
you whimper in reply, "n-no?" even you notice you don't sound too sure--maybe there's a little fear despite your flirting. you wanted to be good for him, you wanted him to like you.
he looks like he doesnt believe you, but he lets it go.
"then get over here." jj yanks you back towards him until your face was tucked into his neck. he doesn't even bother taking your skirt off, just hikes it up and tugs your panties down with a smack on your ass until they're sitting right below the swell of the soft flesh.
the moan that leaves your lips when his fingers graze your clit is almost pornographic, you hadn't even realized how wet you were until you heard the slick sound of his fingers plunging into you with ease. he was obviously skillful, he found that sweet spot inside you with no problem, rubbing it in time with the thumb on your clit while you squeaked and squirmed against him, completely overwhelmed by pleasure.
you were slick and dripping down his palm, doing your best to squirm away from the assault on your pussy but he wouldn't let you, chasing after your thrashing hips and letting out a soft grunt when you sink your teeth into his neck. the way he used his fingers should be a crime--scissoring them open and slowly dragging the pads down your front wall just to hear you mewl like a kitten at the feeling. the thumb on your clit still rubbing in quick, confident circles and he could tell by the way it swelled and throbbed that you were close.
"bet those little boys never made you feel like this huh?" he laughs at you whining response, the answer is extremely apparent by the sound of your growing wetness--your high pitched keen drowned out by the sloshing of your pussy, "there you go sugar, just let it all out."
you choke out a moan and drench him, pussy locking tight around his knuckles as you pulsed, squirting your release all over his lap. there was no way he had you feeling like that just from fingering but here you were, pulse rushing in your ears as he got your clothes back right, sitting you on the couch with a kiss on the forehead as he left to go change seeing as though you soaked his jeans.
when he comes back he lets out a chuckle at the sight of you still sitting there dazed and he finally gives you that beer, "get yourself together aight?" i'll see you back out there.
it takes you almost 20 minutes to finish the beer, still trembling and pussy aching with the need to be filled. you finally step outside, eyes hazy and brain turned to mush when you notice you don't have your panties on.
45 notes · View notes