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aksm · 9 months

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People knock on Rhoam for being a bad dad cuz he's distant and stern to little Zelda and say how Rauru is the goat (heh) for taking her in like his own daughter. Like Zelda had her real parental connection with Sonia and Rauru. But frankly that's a little reductive.

Rauru literally descended from the heavens, married a priest, started a kingdom. Man didn't really know much strife yet. There's no looming threat of calamity or prophecy yet. Things are peaceful. Things are fine. Things are great. Zelda dropped in during this time, talking about a doom that's going to happen tens of thousands of years in the future.

This sad, lost princess.

Of course any reasonable person would take her in and calm her and tell her she is fine and listen and support her.

Rhoam not being able to be this kind of figure for Zelda is tragic. Just read this poor man's journal entries:

"It has been a year and three months since her mother passed. Perhaps she is held back by heartache too deep to heal. If the Ganon prophecy wasn't looming over our heads, I would tell her to take her time... To wait until she is ready. But our situation is dire and leaves no room for weakness—even on behalf of my beloved daughter. My heart breaks for Zelda, but I must act as a king, not a father. I must order her to train relentlessly at the fountain." Pg 4.

"In truth, I understand Zelda's feelings. Painfully so. She lost her mother, her teacher, before she could learn from her. Ten pointless years of self-training, without so much as a book or note to help her find her way... Those in the castle talk behind her back. And I, her only family, scold her for her shortcomings. No wonder she wishes to hide away in her beloved relic research. I'd love nothing more than to console her... But I must stay strong. She MUST fulfill her duty, just as we all must. Even if she comes to despise me." Pg 6.

"I have been told my Zelda went to the Spring of Wisdom... This will likely be her last chance. If she is unable to awaken her power at Lanayru, all hope is truly lost. If she comes back without success, then I shall speak kindly with her. Scolding is pointless now. I forced 10 years of training on her... and after all that, it seems her power will stubbornly awaken some other way. Perhaps I should encourage her to keep researching her beloved relics. They may just lead her to answers I can't provide. For now, I sit anxiously, more a father than a king in this moment. I sit and await my daughter's return." Pg 7. (He fucking dies and never gives Zelda this bit of closure uuuugggghhhhhhh Zelda I'm so sorry Rhoam I'm so sorry)

It sucks because most people remember the cutscenes (duh it's more immersive and important) and in the cutscenes of the first game Rhoam was mostly shown as being stern and mean to babygirl Zelda, who is closed fists explaining herself to him at the verge of tears. And in contrast everyone in the first royal family of hyrule in the second game treated her with such kindness and we can see how happy she was being there with them.

Rhoam was shackled by duty. By prophecy. By the looming calamity. And from the day he named his daughter 'Zelda' he shackled her as well.

And what does Zelda do with these shackles? She accepts them. She tolerates them. Because she loves her father and her kingdom and knows there's a power dormant in her that can stop the calamity that she must do her best to unlock. She does this dutifully. She does all the training, she does everything that is required.

But it still doesn't unlock. So she tries other ways. She isn't just going after the 'relics' because she's scholarly and nerdy and wants to learn about them. She does it because she's pragmatic. She knows her sacred sealing power isn't present in her. She knows she might not be able to control it or even unlock it in time.

So she tries this alternative approach. The Divine Beasts, the guardians. Ancient tech that was used to prevent the calamity of their time. And she awakened the tech. And her father chose the champions for each divine beast. And they were all prepared. And it's all thanks to Zelda.

And then... Fucking tragedy again. Ganon probably learned his lesson from the last time he was thwarted and immediately went for the tech, corrupting it and turning it against the new users. Against Zelda.

It's never really stated how fast it all turned to shit when the tech betrayed them (or maybe I don't remember) but every account points to it being almost overnight. The champions died. Rhoam died. And suddenly, suddenly Zelda unlocks her sealing magic.

I always always hate the literary trope of using tragedy to unlock a great power that could've actually stopped the tragedy from happening in the first place.

And it's no different in BOTW. I hate that Zelda had to go through all this to unlock her powers.

And then what happens next?

She's stuck in limbo (in an almost mocking parallel to Rauru in the next game with his imprisoning arm) holding Ganon back. For a hundred years.

This young woman had gone through so much only to be trapped with a calamity seeking to destroy Hyrule for a century.

Does she know her father died in the war? Does she know the champions died in battle? Would she know Link would survive in the Shrine of Resurrection? Would she know how long it would all take? The century she would have to wait?

I think she didn't. I think it all happened too fast. I think ultimately, she decided a stalemate with ganon was an agreeable outcome. I think in her mind she probably thought she failed Hyrule. When the divine beasts turned she must have been distraught. Distraught might not even cover it tbh. But at least... At least when the kingdom was brought to it's knees by the corrupted tech and was waiting for the final blow, she had the ability to ensure the final blow never came.

And oh boy I have a looot more to talk about regarding Tears of the Kingdom. But I do want to have a couple of more playthroughs of it to really formulate what I want to say.

#zelda #zelink #totk thoughts #loz spoilers #totk spoilers #the legend of zelda #legend of zelda #tloz botw #tloz totk #loz totk #loz botw #loz tears of the kingdom #tears of the kindom spoilers #breath

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spacebarbarianweird · 6 months

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The Scorching Sun

My desperate attempt to redeem the ending scene

Astarion is running away from the sunlight once the tadpole is gone, and Tav is nowhere to be seen.

Tags: hurt/comfort

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

The excruciating pain pierces Astarion as his skin starts burning.

The sun's searing rays cause agony from which there is no respite. The tadpole's grip finally releases him. Still, as it does, it leaves behind a gaping void, one filled with a mind that races with panic and anxiety, amplifying the horrors that lie ahead.

Astarion is scared. He has never felt so frightened in his life. Not when he awoke in his coffin two centuries ago, dying of hunger and pain. Not when Cazador put him through horrors and torments. Not when he was sealed in the tomb for an entire year. Not when he thought Tav was dying.

Because now he is burning alive.

Astarion desperately looks at his companions seeking support, but instead, he sees disgust on their faces as if without tadpoles they suddenly realize Astarion is a vampire.

He hears a chuckle, probably from Gale, that "Now our friend has to return to shadows" and another voice, "Seems like we won't see him again soon."

Once trusted friends now cruelly mock him, their laughter an eerie cacophony that reverberates in the depths of Astarion's consciousness. Each word stabs his undead heart.

You are nowhere to be seen. You are absent when he needs you the most.

Astarion runs toward the huge crates at the pier, which cast a comforting shadow. Astarion stumbles – he can't see anything; the sun has burnt his eyes. By touch, he finally gets to the shadows, curls up in the corner, and presses his legs to the chest.

Eyesight finally recovers. Astarion hears distant voices – someone laughs, someone cheers. He is jealous. Why can't he be there, with them, in the sunlight? Didn't he suffer too much? Didn't he fight the Brain with the rest? Why, why?

Tears stream down his cheeks. Tears of pain, tears of desperation, resentment, injustice.

Betrayal.

As the sun slowly rises, a merciful shadow retreats, and a harsh ray of light burns Astarion's right leg. The once-safe haven has become dangerous, and despair compels Astarion to seek refuge in the nearest house. The sun continues to scorch him, subjecting him to wave after wave of searing pain.

However, an invisible barrier obstructs his path, granting entry only upon invitation, offering no respite for the vampire. Astarion is left to writhe in the agony of the daylight.

He must go to the Inn. The vampire's invitation is forever, but the city lies in ruins, with only fleeting shadows left. Baldurians cheer, praising the gods for saving them from unimaginable horrors. Amidst the joy and light, Astarion feels like crying, for he knows he doesn't belong here. Life, light, and happiness are not for him; he remains a creature of the night, a monster. His foolish hope for anything else has faded away.

At last, he reaches the Inn. Astarion pushes the door open and collapses on his knees, palms pressed into the wooden floor. The pain clings to his body like acid sweat. The tavern is empty, and Astarion manages to stumble upstairs, each step feeling like an eternity. Even the cruelest tortures in Cazador's mansion did not leave him feeling so helpless and weak.

Finally, he crawls into the room he once shared with you and collapses onto the bed. The dark room envelops Astarion like a lover, providing a shred of safety. The echoes of his former companions' laughter still torment the vampire like cruel ghosts from the past.

In desperation, Astarion questions if he heard your voice. Were your promises of love empty words? Could you no longer want him, and the tadpole was the sole reason for your affection? These tormenting thoughts whirl in his mind, threatening to drown him as hunger and pain draw him closer to the abyss.

The hunger is insatiable, gut-wrenching. The tadpole had once dulled it like a medicine. Now, it is back, threatening to turn Astarion into a feral, mindless monster.

Astarion clenches his fingers, trying to grasp the reality: he is alive, his master is dead, and he is free. But it all means nothing.

Hours pass, and Astarion attempts to enter a trance to escape the agony, but his sunburnt body refuses to cooperate. He longs for respite, for a brief escape from reality, but the pain and dark thoughts overwhelm him.

Yes, he did hear your voice in that laughter, and he envisions an evil grin on your face. Perhaps you despise him and have moved on to someone else. Silent tears stream down his face, bearing witness to the profound betrayal he feels from those he once trusted and loved and to the unending nightmare of his existence.

Then, he hears footsteps. The door swings open.

"Astarion! I should have known you were heading here," you exclaim as you sit on the bed and take his hand.

Astarion looks at you in disbelief. Your face, your voice, your scent. You are back. He wants to grab you, to press his face against your collarbone. But he is so weak he can't move.

"Does it hurt?" you ask. Astarion nods, and you press your lips to his knuckles.

"I'm so sorry. I fainted when the tadpole was removed. When I woke up, they told me you had run away, and I've been trying to find you ever since. Hey, look at me," you gently caress his cheek. "I am here. I'm not going anywhere."

Astarion finally manages to look into your eyes. He sees the same love, care, kind smile, hope, and support he thought he had lost.

"I thought… I thought you were never coming back," he whispers.

"Well, if you had run even further, I would have lost you forever," you say.

The tears prickle his eyes once again. How could he have ever doubted you? What kind of person was he to assume that his lover would betray him?

"You didn't answer if it hurts."

"Like a hellplane," he replies.

"I am so sorry. I truly am."

Astarion finally manages to lift his hands and he presses you against his chest. You roll over and lie beside him, putting your head on his shoulder, and he wraps his right hand around you as you place your hand on his stomach.

There are so many things he wants to say to you but simply can't.

"What are we going to do next?" you ask.

He shrugs. "I don't know. What do you want?"

"Anything that doesn't involve staying in this city. We could settle somewhere…"

"It would be tediously boring," Astarion interjects.

"Agreed. We'll always have time for that. Maybe we should go to the Underdark to help other spawns."

He strokes your hair. "I'm not taking a living person to a den of seven thousand vampires, that's for sure."

Astarion presses you tighter, wanting to feel your heartbeat. Then, a realization washes over him: he is no longer in pain. His skin doesn't burn, and his muscles aren't being torn apart. Your presence alone alleviates his suffering. He kisses your forehead and responds with a smile.

"What do you think about getting away? Traveling with me and seeing the world?" you finally propose.

"Darling, I thought you'd never suggest it. I'm sick of this place."

"And we can find a cure for you. There are probably ways to allow you to walk in the sun or even reverse your vampirism. This world is full of cruel wonders, so why not give it a try?"

He nods and gazes at your face as if trying to memorize every little detail.

"I'm not going anywhere, Astarion," you smile. "Stop looking at me as if I'm going to disappear." You sit up and ask, "Can I kiss you?"

"Only if you promise me something," Astarion counters.

"What is it?"

"Stop asking for permission to touch or kiss me."

"You sure?" you hesitate.

"Yes. Stop treating me as if I'm made of glass. It's you. Your touches can never be unwelcome."

You giggle and kiss him. At that moment, you are the two happiest people in the world.

You both lay in each other's arms until sunset. When night falls, you leave the city walls and enter the wilderness. You continue forward, holding hands as if afraid to lose each other. Astarion's undead heart rejoices. He has everything a man needs.

Freedom.

A woman he loves, who loves him in return.

A future.

He would be a fool to exchange all this for false promises of power.

Suddenly, you stop, wrap your hands around his neck, and press your lips against his. Then, you proceed to kiss his cheeks, his forehead, and everything you can reach while standing on the ground.

He flinches for a second but then hugs you back and tightens his grip.

"Never ask for permission," he whispers into your ear. "You are always invited."

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion romance #astarion fic #astarion x reader #astarion x female reader #astarion fics #astarion ending #astarion ancunin #astarion fanfic #astarion fanfiction #spacebarbarian fics

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amongemeraldclouds · 1 month

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Ruin The Friendship

A letter gets mailed to its intended recipient. A letter confessing your feelings. A letter you never meant to send.

Lorenzo Berkshire x Reader

Warning: fluff, no use of y/n

Author’s note: My final entry for the Hogmarch challenge, prompt five. This was such a fun challenge, thanks for hosting @thatdammchickennugget ♡

✿ Masterlist | 1k words

“What letter? I didn’t have any mail to send, Daisy,” I ask our house elf as she updates me about the chores she’s done for the day.

“The letter beneath your bed. Daisy found it and to thank you kind miss for saving Daisy from your father’s fury yesterday, Daisy went the extra mile to send it,” she announces proudly.

“You mean,” I whisper, a sinking feeling growing in my chest, “the letter containing my deep and honest thoughts and feelings, about the boy I love, that I swore to myself I would never - and I mean never - send?” I exhale, feeling the edges of a panic attack creep in.

Daisy frowns. “Sorry miss, Daisy did not know. Daisy thought she was helping,” she apologizes, cowering in the corner.

“Stand up, Daisy. I’m not going to hit you,” I reassure her. “But I could hit myself so I don’t have to attend class tomorrow and face the mortifying events that are sure to follow.”

I jump up from my bed and nod, waving my wand. I could do that.

“Miss, please!” Daisy pleads. “Don’t hurt yourself. It’s Daisy’s fault,” she hisses. “Stupid! Stupid! Stupid Daisy!” She chides, punctuating each word by banging her head against my drawers.

“Stop, Daisy,” I reach out, touching her shoulder. "Fine” I sigh, “no one is hurting themselves.”

I am just going to have to go to school tomorrow and die from shame.

The letter

My sweet Enzo, It’s ironic you admire me for my bravery for taking down our childhood bullies and for being one of the top students in our DADA class. Yet here I am in a moment of weakness, thinking of you. Actually, even when I feel strong, defeated, or happy, I still think of you. In an ideal world, I’d be brave enough to tell you face to face. But we live in an imperfect world where hearts can break and relationships end, far more often than anyone would like. So if it saves our friendship, I can and must lock my heart away. I wish I can tell you when or how it happened, but I myself don’t understand. All I know is that I’m hopelessly in love with you. There, I said it.

The aftermath

I peer into Enzo’s dorm, head snaking past the door.

Please, please, please, let it be vacant. Let it be vacant, I chant in my head.

I sigh when silence greets me and move the rest of my body inside, sagging against the door in relief.

What are the odds that Enzo has already read a letter that just arrived this morning? He’s probably at quidditch practice, which means I still have a shot at saving myself from utter mortification. And more importantly, to save our friendship.

I scan his room and hurry towards the table littered with books, dried ink splotches stain the oak wood. If the letter were anywhere, it would be somewhere he—

I yelp when a door opens and turn towards Enzo stepping out from the bathroom with damp hair clinging to his scalp, water dripping down his sculpted chest, running along his toned abs. All hail quidditch.

He clears his throat and I bite my treacherous tongue - the one that unconsciously moved across my lips. Salazar, if I don’t get my act together, I won’t even need some stupid letter to reveal my feelings.

My cheeks burn as I return my gaze to his amused expression. “What the hell are you doing here and why are you naked?” I accuse. That’s right, I’m just blushing because I’m angry.

He adjusts the towel across his hips and I turn away, shoving the image of his toned figure from my mind, trying not to imagine whatever else is beneath his towel. “First of all, not naked,” he states.

“And more importantly, you’re asking me what I am doing, taking a shower, here in my dorm?” he points to the floor for emphasis. I wince and kick myself internally.

“I thought you’d be at quidditch practice,” I try. “I just - I just lost something and thought it might be with you.”

“What is it? I can help you look,” he offers, moving towards me and I step back.

“Enz please, put some clothes on first!” I plead, reminding myself to breathe.

I stop midstep when I feel something cool and solid behind me and I realize I’ve backed into a wall. Why the hell is Enzo prowling towards me like I’m his prey?

I close my eyes when he stops just in front of me, heat radiating from his body. I will myself to disappear, to fuse with the wall, to—

“By any chance,” he starts, “the thing you’re looking for. Is it white and made of paper—”

No, no, no, no, I chant this time, my eyes opening to stare at him in horror.

He continues, “the one with your handwriting scrawled inside?”

All the words leave my mind.

He smirks, “it would be a shame if you lost it and wanted it back because I rather liked it.”

“Y-you do?” I whisper.

His smirk gives way to a warm smile. “Darling, you’re more courageous than I am and I still admire you for your bravery. You managed to write it. Here’s my response: I love you too.”

“Well technically, I never meant to send it. It was Daisy,” I try to explain.

“So I have Daisy to thank. I’ll bring her flowers next time,” he says, making a mental note before continuing. “I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time too, but I was also worried it could ruin our friendship if you didn't feel the same.”

“Now that we’ve established we feel the same…” I begin but trail off when he rests his arm on the wall above me and leans in. My breath hitches.

“I won’t need my clothes until much later,” he ends my sentence.

It’s not what I was going to say but the second I open my lips to protest, his mouth crashes into mine and nothing else matters.

#hogmarch challenge #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire x you #lorenzo berkshire #enzo x reader #enzo berkshire imagine #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #hp fandom #slytherin boys #wizarding world #amongemeraldcloudswrites

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loveinhawkins · 10 months

Text

“Still super jealous as hell by the way,” Eddie says; Steve laughs, elbows him in the chest—disguising a want to touch by shoving him away.

There’s a brief flash of warmth against his skin before Eddie teeters back.

He stays close though, dances in and out of Steve’s space as they walk, almost close enough to…

“D’you know what’s adding an extra layer of, uh…” Eddie clicks his fingers then says with relish, “Of batshit insanity to everything?”

“No,” Steve says, and he feels a smile growing; he couldn’t fight it even if he tried. He doesn’t want to. “But I’m sure you’re gonna tell me.”

“My, uh. One of my favourite games as a kid was… uh well, it didn’t really have a name, it was more—”

“No jump rope for you?” Steve asks in mock surprise.

Eddie snorts. “Nah, nothing as normal as that, Harrington, honestly. Kid me was a visionary.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Steve says.

The words hover in the space between teasing and genuine; he means both, of course.

“At, um. When I was at my dad’s.”

Eddie’s smile flickers, and Steve tries to fill in the gaps: has vague memories of middle school halfway through one year, of murmured interest, you seen the new kid? He just moved here.

“Our place backed onto some woods, and I’d just… kinda wander.”

Eddie scoffs—his foot makes an aborted motion as he walks, like he’d gone to absentmindedly kick a twig and thought better of it.

Better safe than sorry, Steve thinks. Hive mind and all that.

“So your favourite game was wandering?” he prompts when Eddie goes quiet.

A tease again. Softer. Really means you can tell me. I want to know.

He wonders if Eddie can hear it.

“Well, when you put it like that, it sounds shit. And it was more, like, active up in…” Eddie taps his temple. “I’d just… uh. Pretend the woods were haunted, stuff like that.”

“Oh,” Steve says, amusement growing. “So all this,” he gestures to the vines and trees, to the fog creeping along the forest floor, “is real immersive for you, then. Got it.”

“Um, no,” Eddie says, and his voice is going up into that wobbly tone that only comes from suppressing genuine, ugly laughter. “The stuff in my head was gothic, Harrington. It had class.”

“God, man, I’m sorry. Is the alternate dimension not living up to your expectations?”

“I’m gonna make a complaint.”

“Yeah, do it in writing. Make it professional.”

“To whom it may concern,” Eddie starts, all comically snooty.

Steve laughs.

And Eddie’s up close again, grinning, and Steve presses the side of his forearm up against his chest; the moment lingers, until Eddie moves back, until Steve drops his arm a fraction too late.

“I’ve found the experience provided—”

Steve snorts. “Experience?”

“—thoroughly lacking in both atmosphere and charm. I expect appropriate compensation as soon as possible.”

“Tell you what,” Steve says, “show me a picture of your haunted woods when we’re outta here. I wanna see how they compare.”

“Um,” Eddie says through the tail end of a chuckle. He sounds embarrassed. “I don’t have… My dad, uh, he wasn’t exactly the kinda guy to take a lot of pictures, y’know?”

And Steve doesn’t know—or at least, he thinks he doesn’t.

What he does know is that in the back of a cabinet there’s an old baby book: he can tell exactly when his grandma first began to get sick—and when everything else went to shit��because the milestone entries stop a third of the way through.

He doesn’t mention it. He can’t find the words, not here, not now—even if he could, he’s worried it’d sound a clumsy, weak comparison at best, self-centred at worst.

So he waits. Feels when the abrupt silence becomes less heavy.

“Did you, like, do speeches to yourself in the game, too?”

Eddie gives him a sideways, bemused look. “Maybe.”

Steve pretends to mull it over. Nods. “Yeah, figures.”

A pause.

“Uh, hold on,” Eddie says, chuckling again, like he’s been surprised into it. “You can’t just leave it there, man, you—”

“Nah, it’s just.” Steve smothers a grin. “Just fits you, that’s all. Like, you would’ve dramatically narrated your own birth if you could, I know it.”

Eddie laughs hard; he nearly drops his flashlight.

“You’re funny,” he says eventually, still smiling.

“Oh, sorry,” Steve quips back, “was I not supposed to be? Ruined your doctrine again?”

“No, just—” Eddie laughs again. Sighs. “Just timing, man. Wish I was finding out in a more, uh, low stakes kinda way. Like…”

His eyes go a little far-off, and for a second Steve can see that kid in him, the one who kept himself company in his own imagination.

“Like we’re just walking past the lockers, or something.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, with probably more feeling than it strictly calls for. “Anything beats these goddamn vines.”

He could add that there is no ideal timing, really: that if there’s one thing he’s learned throughout all this, it’s that there’s hardly ever time to dwell on things. It’s more do or die.

Besides, he thinks, you could wait all your life for a perfect moment, and it still passes you—

The earth trembles.

Eddie sways; Steve lunges to the side so Eddie falls backwards, away from a nearby vine. He tries to plant his feet, realises he’s inevitably going down, too, and course corrects.

Falls.

Feels the rise and fall of Eddie’s chest against his hand.

“M’definitely filing that complaint,” Eddie says breathlessly.

He turns so he’s facing Steve. Stays close.

They’ve both dropped their flashlights. The effect is dazzling—Eddie’s face is illuminated, eyes bright.

No atmosphere, my ass, Steve thinks.

“You okay?” he murmurs.

“Y-yeah,” Eddie says—gasps, really. Steve feels how his breathing shakes.

There’s barely a disguise now; they’re both leaning in.

And for a moment, they’re not here at all; they’re just at school, hiding by the lockers.

Then again…

Maybe it could only happen here.

Maybe wandering—maybe everything—has been leading up to this: the moment before a chance taken.

#a mix between a missing scene & scene rewrite ❤️#the walk through the upside down woods #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #pre steddie

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bitchiswild · 2 months

Text

You’re Mine

G!P Huh Yunjin x F!Reader

Words Count: 3.5k

Warnings: rough, mean girl yunjin, slapping, choking, creampie, hair pulling, etc.

A/n: im yours yunjin 🧎‍♀️

Requested

"Move, you slut," the voice hissed before a forceful shove pinned you against the locker. Anger surged through you as you turned to confront your attacker, only to find yourself face-to-face with your long-time tormentor, Huh Yunjin.

You were no stranger to the elite atmosphere of your private college, where only the offspring of the privileged elite could gain entry. In this exclusive world, Yunjin reigned as the undisputed "Queen Bee," her status bolstered by the influential positions held by her parents among the upper echelons of society.

Despite the luxurious facade of the institution, its halls harbored the harsh realities of social hierarchy and power plays. For you, navigating these treacherous waters meant enduring relentless bullying from Yunjin and her clique, who wielded their influence with impunity.

As you squared your shoulders and met Yunjin's gaze with defiance, you steeled yourself for yet another confrontation in this battleground of prestige and entitlement.

With a defiant smirk, you pushed yourself off the locker, refusing to let Yunjin's intimidation tactics hold sway over you any longer. "You're the one who needs to move, Yunjin," you retorted, your voice laced with equal parts irritation and disdain. "Last time I checked, this hallway wasn't your personal runway."

Yunjin's eyes flashed with a mixture of surprise and fury at your boldness, but you held your ground, reveling in the taste of rebellion. "Oh, look who's finally grown a spine," she sneered, her tone dripping with condescension. "But don't get too ahead of yourself, darling. You're still just a peasant in our kingdom."

You rolled your eyes, refusing to let her barbs penetrate your armor. "Please, spare me the melodrama," you shot back, your words laden with sarcasm. "I may not have your pedigree, but at least I have the decency not to treat people like trash."

Yunjin bristled at your insolence, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. "You think you're so clever, don't you?" she seethed, her voice tinged with venom. "Well, let's see how long that mouth of yours lasts when I'm through with you."

But you merely smirked in response, relishing the opportunity to ruffle her feathers. "Bring it on, Jen," you taunted, your bravado masking the flutter of nerves beneath the surface. "I've dealt with worse than you."

With that, you sauntered away, leaving Yunjin seething in your wake, a small but satisfying victory in the ongoing battle for dominance in the cutthroat world of elite academia.

As you defiantly turned to walk away, determined to leave Yunjin's petty antics behind you, a sudden vice-like grip seized your arm. Startled, you stumbled backward as Yunjin yanked you forcefully into an empty classroom, the door slamming shut behind you with an ominous thud.

Caught off guard by the unexpected turn of events, you found yourself face-to-face with your tormentor, her features contorted with rage and something darker lurking beneath the surface. "You think you can just walk away from me, like you're better than everyone else?" Yunjin spat, her voice low and dangerous.

Despite the adrenaline coursing through your veins, you refused to show any sign of weakness. "Let go of me, Yunjin," you demanded, your tone firm and unwavering. "You're not worth my time."

But Yunjin's grip only tightened, her nails digging into your skin with painful insistence. "You're going to regret crossing me, you little brat," she seethed, her words dripping with venom. "I'll make sure you pay for every insolent word that's ever come out of your mouth."

Your heart pounded with a mixture of fear and anger as Yunjin's threats hung heavy in the air. Despite the adrenaline coursing through your veins, you refused to show any sign of weakness.

"Now get on your knees," Yunjin commanded, her voice a sharp whip of authority slicing through the tense silence.

Your defiance blazed hotter within you, fueled by indignation at her audacity. "You must be out of your mind if you think I'll bow down to you," you shot back, your voice trembling with suppressed fury. "I'm not some pawn for you to manipulate at your whim."

Yunjin's smirk twisted into something cruel as she leaned in closer, her breath hot against your ear. "Who says you're bowing to me?" she taunted, her tone dripping with contempt. "No, princess, you're sucking my cock."

Your eyes rolled instinctively at her words, a mixture of annoyance and disbelief simmering beneath the surface. "Oh, please," you scoffed, your voice laced with sarcasm. "As if I'd stoop that low for someone as pathetic as you."

Ignoring her, Yunjin roughly pulled down her skirt, her movements fueled by a potent mix of anger and arrogance. You couldn't help but roll your eyes again at the dramatic display, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips despite yourself.

But as her cock sprang into view, hard and angry, a different sensation washed over you. Despite your bravado, an undeniable thrill coursed through your veins at the sight of it, sending an unexpected shiver down your spine. You squeezed your thighs together instinctively, a futile attempt to suppress the traitorous desire that threatened to consume you.

Yunjin's smirk widened at the sight of your reaction, a smug satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. "What's the matter, princess?" she teased, her voice dripping with derision. "Cat got your tongue?"

You fought to maintain your composure, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing you flustered. With a defiant toss of your hair, you shot her a disdainful look, determined to play the brat to the bitter end.

But deep down, beneath the layers of bravado and defiance, you couldn't shake the unsettling realization that Yunjin's cruel games had stirred something within you, something dark and forbidden that threatened to unravel the carefully constructed facade you wore like amor.

With an exaggerated eye roll and a scoff that bordered on theatrical, you watched as Yunjin brought her cock closer to your mouth, her movements slow and deliberate. Despite the tension crackling in the air, you refused to let her see any hint of weakness, maintaining your bratty demeanor with unwavering determination.

"Oh, please," you drawled, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you leaned back against the nearest desk, crossing your arms defiantly. "Is this supposed to impress me? Because let me tell you, it's doing the exact opposite."

Yunjin's lips curled into a sneer at your defiance, her grip tightening on her cock as she hovered tantalizingly close to your lips. "You think you're so clever, don't you?" she spat, her voice laced with venom. "Well, let's see how long that smart mouth of yours lasts when it's wrapped around my cock."

You fought to suppress the shiver of anticipation that threatened to betray you, maintaining a facade of nonchalance even as Yunjin's cock loomed closer, the heat radiating from it palpable against your skin.

Rolling your eyes yet again, you tilted your head to the side with a dismissive huff. "Is that the best you've got?" you taunted, your voice laced with false bravado. "You'll have to do better than that if you want to impress me, sweetheart."

But beneath the surface, a tempest of conflicting emotions raged within you, a heady mixture of defiance and desire warring for dominance. In this twisted game of power and manipulation, you knew that maintaining your bratty facade was the only defense you had against Yunjin's relentless cruelty.

Yunjin's patience wore thin as she grew tired of your defiance. With a swift movement, she grabbed your head, forcing her cock through your lips, her grip firm and unyielding. The sudden invasion left you momentarily stunned, your breath catching in your throat as she began to fuck your mouth with a forceful rhythm.

Despite the initial shock, you refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing you submit so easily. With a muffled grunt of protest, you struggled against her hold, your bratty attitude flaring to life even in the face of this humiliating act.

"Mmmph!" you managed to protest around her cock, the sound muffled and garbled as she continued to thrust into your mouth with increasing intensity. Each movement was met with resistance, your jaw clenched tight as you fought against her, determined not to let her break you.

Yunjin's laughter echoed through the empty classroom, a cruel symphony of dominance as she relished in your futile struggles. "That's it, princess," she taunted, her voice dripping with mockery. "You're going to learn your place one way or another."

But even as Yunjin exerted her control over you, a flicker of defiance burned bright within your chest. With every fiber of your being, you vowed to endure this humiliation with your pride intact, refusing to let her cruel games crush your spirit.

As Yunjin's thrusts grew more forceful, your resolve hardened, a silent promise to yourself echoing in the recesses of your mind. No matter what she threw your way, you would never bow down to her, not now, not ever

Despite your best efforts to resist, a wave of conflicting sensations washed over you as Yunjin's relentless thrusts persisted. With each forceful movement, an involuntary moan escaped your lips, the sound muffled by the cock that filled your mouth.

The sensation of her cock sliding in and out, coupled with the tight grip of her hand on your head, sent sparks of arousal coursing through your veins. Despite the humiliation of the situation, a shameful heat pooled low in your belly, betraying your body's undeniable response to her touch.

As Yunjin's pace quickened, driving her cock deeper into your mouth, you found yourself succumbing to the overwhelming pleasure, your moans growing louder and more desperate with each passing moment. The friction between you, fueled by a potent mix of desire and defiance, sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, blurring the lines between pain and ecstasy.

Yunjin's laughter mingled with your moans, a twisted symphony of dominance and submission that filled the air around you. With each thrust, she exerted her control over you, relishing in the power she held over your body and mind.

Despite the shame that threatened to consume you, a part of you reveled in the raw intensity of the moment, surrendering to the pleasure that coursed through your veins. In this twisted dance of dominance and desire, you found yourself teetering on the edge of surrender, your body betraying you even as your mind fought to maintain a semblance of control.

Tears streamed down your face, a mixture of humiliation, frustration, and a strange undercurrent of arousal. Despite your attempts to suppress them, they flowed freely, betraying the complex emotions swirling within you.

Yunjin's hand moved from your head to gently wipe away the tears, her touch oddly tender against the backdrop of the dominating act she was performing. "There, there, princess," she cooed mockingly, her voice dripping with condescension. "You're so much better with my cock in your mouth."

Her words struck a nerve, a mixture of shame and defiance bubbling up within you. Part of you recoiled at the degradation of being reduced to this, while another part burned with an unspoken desire that refused to be extinguished.

Despite the conflicting emotions warring within you, you found yourself unable to tear your gaze away from Yunjin's piercing eyes. In that moment, as she held you captive with her gaze, you realized that this twisted dynamic between you was far more complicated than you had ever imagined.

With a defiant tilt of your chin, you met her gaze head-on, a silent challenge burning bright in your eyes. Beneath the layers of humiliation and submission, a spark of rebellion flickered to life, a silent vow to reclaim your power in this twisted game of dominance and desire.

As Yunjin's thrusts intensified, her grip tightening on your head, a primal urgency infused her voice as she gasped, "God, I'm gonna cum in your mouth. You better swallow it all."

With a surge of desperation, she released into your mouth, her essence flooding your senses. The bitter taste of her release filled your mouth as she emptied herself, each pulse a reminder of your submission to her will.

As she withdrew, a surge of defiance surged within you. With a defiant flick of your tongue, you spat out her cum, the act a rebellious assertion of your autonomy in the face of her dominance.

Yunjin's eyes flashed with a mixture of surprise and anger at your defiance. "You insolent little brat," she hissed, her voice laced with venom. "You'll regret that."

But even as she glared at you, a spark of triumph flared within you. In this moment of rebellion, you reclaimed a fragment of your dignity, a silent declaration that you would not be reduced to a mere pawn in her twisted games of power and control.

Yunjin's grip tightened on your hair as she dragged you up from your knees, a cruel smirk twisting her lips. With a rough shove, she pushed you over the desk, the cold surface biting into your skin as you landed with a thud.

Your heart raced with a mixture of fear and anticipation as Yunjin wasted no time in yanking down your skirt and underwear, exposing you to her ruthless gaze. A shiver of vulnerability coursed through you as her fingers teased your entrance, tracing agonizing circles around your slick folds.

Before you could gather your wits, she thrust her fingers inside you with a brutal force, eliciting a whimper of both pain and pleasure from your lips. The sudden intrusion left you reeling, your body straining against the onslaught of sensations crashing over you.

Yunjin's hand came down hard on your exposed ass, the sharp slap sending shockwaves of pain rippling through your body. The sting lingered, your skin flaming red under her punishing touch as she asserted her dominance over you.

"Take my cock like a good girl," she commanded, her voice dripping with cruel authority as she positioned herself behind you. With a brutal thrust, she buried her entire length inside you, the sensation overwhelming as she claimed you as her own.

Your breath hitched in your throat as she filled you completely, every inch of her cock stretching you to your limits. Despite the pain and humiliation, a shameful heat pooled low in your belly, your body betraying you with every desperate gasp and whimper that escaped your lips.

In this twisted dance of dominance and submission, you found yourself teetering on the edge of surrender, your body yielding to the relentless onslaught of pleasure and pain inflicted upon you by Yunjin's cruel desires

Yunjin's grip on your hair tightened, her fingers tangling in the strands as she thrust into you with a relentless force. Each brutal thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure and pain coursing through your body, the rhythm rough and unyielding.

With a savage intensity, she pulled your hair back, arching your spine and exposing your neck to her hungry gaze. The sensation of her fingers digging into your scalp ignited a primal need within you, a desperate craving for more of her dominating touch.

Your skin burned under her punishing grip, each slap leaving a fiery imprint on your flesh as she marked you as her own. The sting of her hand against your skin mingled with the throbbing ache between your legs, the sensations blurring the lines between pleasure and pain.

Through gritted teeth, Yunjin's voice reverberated with a raw hunger as she growled, "You like it rough, don't you, you filthy little slut?"

A shiver of arousal coursed through you at her words, your body responding to the raw dominance in her tone. "Yes," you gasped, your voice barely more than a desperate whimper. "Harder, please."

With a primal grunt, Yunjin obliged, her thrusts becoming even more forceful as she claimed you with a relentless ferocity. Each collision sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, your senses overwhelmed by the raw intensity of the moment.

Amidst the chaos of your entwined bodies, a symphony of dirty talk filled the air, a primal exchange of desire and dominance that fueled the flames of passion burning between you. In this raw, unbridled moment of carnal ecstasy, you surrendered to the primal urges consuming you, lost in the savage rhythm of pleasure and pain orchestrated by Yunjin's command.

"Take it," she commanded, her voice a husky whisper laced with authority. "Spread your legs wider for me."

Your body responded instinctively to her commands, yielding to her dominance as you obeyed without hesitation. With each directive, she exerted her control over you, guiding your movements with a commanding presence that left you powerless to resist.

"Look at me," she demanded, her voice a sharp command cutting through the haze of pleasure clouding your mind. "I want to see your eyes as I take you."

Yunjin's grip tightened around your throat, her fingers exerting pressure as she leaned in close, her lips brushing against your ear. "Feel good princess?" she growled, her voice a husky whisper laced with dominance.

A whimper escaped your lips as her words sent a shiver of excitement coursing through you. "Yes," you gasped, your voice barely more than a desperate plea. "Yes it feels so good.”

With a primal hunger, Yunjin complied, her lips trailing down your neck with bruising force, leaving a trail of fiery marks in her wake. Each bite and suck of her lips against your skin elicited a whimper of pleasure from your throat, the sensation of her teeth sinking into your flesh sending shivers of ecstasy down your spine.

As she marked you as her own, the sound of her hand meeting your skin echoed through the room, punctuated by the symphony of moans and gasps that filled the air. "You're mine," she growled, her voice dripping with possessiveness as she claimed you with each punishing strike.

With each thrust, the desk beneath you creaked and groaned under the force of your shared passion, the sound of your bodies colliding filling the room with a primal rhythm that echoed through the empty space.

Amidst the chaos of your entwined bodies, your moans mingled with hers in a symphony of ecstasy, the raw intensity of your shared pleasure reverberating through the room. In this raw and uninhibited moment of carnal desire, you surrendered to the overwhelming sensations consuming you, lost in the intoxicating dance of dominance and desire orchestrated by Yunjin's commanding touch.

"God, Yunjin, I'm gonna cum!" you cried out, your voice filled with a mixture of desperation and ecstasy. Despite the intensity of your impending release, Yunjin's thrusts never faltered, driving you closer to the edge with each relentless movement.

The table beneath you began to scrape against the floor, the sound of wood against tile adding to the cacophony of pleasure filling the room. With each collision, the friction between your bodies intensified, fueling the flames of desire burning within you.

Yunjin's grip on your throat tightened, her fingers digging into your skin with a possessive force as she growled in response to your cries. "That's it, princess," she snarled, her voice dripping with dominance. "Cum for me, fuck, I'm gonna fill you up so good," Yunjin groaned, her voice thick with desire as she thrust into you with renewed fervor. Each powerful thrust drove you to the brink of ecstasy, the promise of her impending release sending tremors of anticipation coursing through your body.

With each collision, the table scraped against the floor, the sound a symphony of pleasure and desire echoing through the room. Yunjin's grip on your throat tightened, her fingers leaving bruising imprints on your skin as she claimed you with a possessive intensity.

You moaned in response, the sensation of her cock filling you completely pushing you closer to the edge of oblivion. "Yes, please," you gasped, your voice barely more than a desperate plea. "Fill me up, Yunjin, I need it."

With a primal roar, Yunjin surrendered to the intoxicating pull of pleasure, her body tensing as she reached the brink of release. With one final, powerful thrust, she buried herself deep inside you, her seed flooding your senses as she emptied herself completely.

Pleasure washed over you in a tidal wave of ecstasy, leaving you trembling and breathless in its wake. As the echoes of your shared climax faded into the air, you lay spent and sated beneath Yunjin's commanding touch, your senses ablaze with the raw intensity of your shared passion.

In the aftermath of your passionate encounter, a heavy silence enveloped the room, broken only by the sound of your ragged breaths and the faint creaking of the table beneath you. You lay spent and tangled together, bodies slick with sweat, as the remnants of your shared pleasure lingered in the air like a hazy mist.

Yunjin's grip on your throat loosened, her fingers trailing lightly over the marks she had left behind, a silent testament to the intensity of your connection. Her eyes met yours, a rare vulnerability shining in their depths amidst the fading fire of desire.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of your shared experience hanging heavy between you like a tangible presence. In this moment of quiet intimacy, you found yourself caught in the delicate balance between desire and vulnerability, the boundaries of power and submission blurring into a tangled web of raw emotion.

With a soft sigh, Yunjin pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, her touch surprisingly tender against the backdrop of your heated encounter. "You're mine," she whispered.

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cupid-styles · 3 months

Note

can you do a blurb about alpha harry freaking out when yn comes to his place smelling like another alpha (she hugged one or bumped into one or something) and being all grumpy and wanting to get rid of it 🤭

oh absolutelyyyyy we love our possessive frat alpha harry!!!! this is on the shorter side but part two will be the mating blurb😙😙

word count: less than 1,000

content warnings: a/o/b content (mentions of knotting/spicy but no smut), harry being jealous and possessive

frat alpha harry concept tag

main masterlist | talk to me

patreon

. . .

Harry wrinkles his nose the second Y/N steps into his bedroom.

"You reek."

It comes out without him even thinking about it, Y/N's jaw immediately dropping as she whips around, a shocked expression on her face.

"Sorry— sorry, that was rude," he mumbles, raising his hand to tug at his messy curls, "It's just— you smell like another alpha. A different one... like, not me."

"You could've stopped at 'another alpha.' I got it then."

He's currently resisting the urge to plug his nose — all he wants to do is throw her over his shoulder and put her in the shower, washing away the fragrance of whoever she'd been around, and scenting her until he couldn't tell who was who. The thought of his omega girl smelling like an alpha that wasn't him made him feel physically sick, bile rising in his throat as the smell continues to permeate his small bedroom.

"Who were you with?" he demands, any attempt at niceties being thrown out the window. It was difficult for him not to get increasingly aggressive the more she stood there, arms crossed over her chest like this whole thing wasn't making Harry sick.

"I told you, I had to work on a group project with some people from my humanities lecture. I just spent, like, three hours in the library with them."

"And were you sitting in a nest of their stuff or something?"

Y/N sends him an annoyed glare, toeing her shoes off in the entry of his room. There's still a decent distance between them, Harry all the way on the other side with an irritated wrinkle formed between his brows.

"Harry, you know I wasn't," she lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand over her face. "I'm exhausted. I don't wanna argue about this, you know it's not my fault."

The genuine response strikes a chord within him and he suddenly feels awful for accusing of her doing anything that would purposely cause her scent to alter. He swallows harshly, trying to push away his natural alpha instincts in favor or apologizing to his girl.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, eyes falling to the carpeted floor. "You're right, it's not your fault. It just... pisses me off."

"I know it does. I'm sorry, too. I could've gone home and showered before I came over."

Harry shrugs, though his heart twitches at the thought of her natural fragrance: sweet and woody, nostalgic and comforting. The only thing he ever wants to smell for the rest of his life.

"But... you know," she says softly, a flirtatious lilt to her voice, "No alpha would even think about getting close to me if I had a pretty bite mark on my neck."

A breathy chuckle leaves Harry. "I know, baby. You deserve more than just a random night in this shitty frat house, though."

"I don't care, though—"

"I know you don't, but I do," he murmurs lowly, taking a step towards her. "You're my mate, yeah? Wanna make it perfect."

He lifts his thumb to pluck at her bottom lip.

"Are you gonna let me make it perfect for you?"

The sentiment makes her feel melty and weak in the knees, so all she's able to do is nod her head slowly. He smiles.

"There's my good omega," he says, and her stomach starts to feel like Jell-O. It's always this way when his voice starts to lower and he speaks to her as if she's the only person in the world. She gets tunnel vision, like he's the sole focus of her attention, and it'll only ever be that way.

"How will you make it perfect?" she manages to whisper out.

"Hmm," he hums, tilting his head slightly as he contemplates her question. "Think I'll take you on a trip somewhere. Maybe somewhere tropical so you can walk around in those pretty bathing suits I know you're dying to wear," she blushes, and it makes him chuckle. "I'll spend the whole day spoiling you. We'll lay out on the beach and I'll put sunscreen all over that perfect body of yours. And when we get tired, I'll carry you back to our room."

Her breath hitches in her throat, the imagery clear as day in her head as he speaks.

"Won't even care if your hair's dirty from the ocean or you have sand everywhere— I'll kiss every inch of your body, hm?" he presses a kiss just below her ear lobe and she shivers. "Stick my tongue in that cute pussy and make you squirt over and over until you're begging for me to mate you. Make sure you cum plenty before I put my cock inside of you and fuck you 'til you're all swollen with my knot."

He catches her ear between his teeth, biting gently. He can smell the arousal slicking in her panties and the warmth radiating from her desperate pussy. "And then... when you're shivering and shaking the way you do, I'll bite you. Make you my pretty fuckin' omega girl with the sweetest bite mark on your neck."

She swallows loudly and he hums, giving her hip a small squeeze.

"Now go take a shower. I need to scent you before I go insane."

#bestie asks #writing #abo harry

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astrolynnworld · 4 months

Text

movie date

pairings: switch!chris x reader

summary: you and chris are at the movie theater and chris starts to get horny.

warnings: smut, switch chris, fingering, oral, exhibitionism, language, mommy/daddy kink, praise.

a/n: since you guys loved my last sub story with chris i decided to give you guys a best of both worlds 🫡

word count: 1,255

chris holds the door for you as you guys walk into the theater

“after you, princess” he says as he gestures his hand out for me to go first. i laugh at the corniness that is chris sturniolo

nonetheless i walk in first as he trails behind me. we had already bought our tickets online so we just had to go to the employee working at the front desk to confirm our purchase and further allow us entry.

“do you want anything to eat before we go in, bae?” chris asks

“can we share a popcorn please?” i ask back

“i love when you know what i like” he remarks with a smile

after getting our popcorn, we find the theater number for our showing and get comfortable in the first open seats we could find.

as the trailers play, me and chris are having little side conversations about which movies look interesting enough to see for future dates.

we continuously eat our popcorn as the lights dim, signaling that the movie will begin soon.

about 10 minutes into the movie i decided to lift the arm rest up and get comfortable in chris’s lap as we finish the last bits of popcorn

“why does every movie theater have to be freezing?” i ask rhetorically

chris laughs, “here” he says while taking off his sweater to wrap around me while i lay on his lap

i smile as the small romantic gesture.

we continue to watch the movie without a word. although, i do start to shuffle around trying to find a better position where my body wont feel uncomfortable.

soon after, i start to hear chris’s heartbeat pick up.

“are you okay?” i ask the anxious boy

“yeah, why wouldn’t i be?” he responds

i leave it alone from there.. until i start to feel an growing imprint on my back

chris was getting hard. what from? i don’t know

“chris .. are you hard?” i ask

“im sorry.. i can’t help it when you’re this close to me, i can feel the warmth of your body” he replies.

“do- do you want me to take care of it?” i say while raising up so i can get closer to his face

“but- y/n there’s people around” chris says while anxiously looking around

“come on chris, there’s nobody in our row. nobody will be able to see, all you have to do is just keep quiet.. can you do that for me like a good boy?” i say while rubbing on his hard dick

“hugh.. of course i can miss” chris states while entering his submissive state

i personally love when chris is submissive, he gets so needy and cute. i would do nothing more than to always be the one in charge when it came to chris

“good boy.” i reply, knowing these words are his weak spot

i pull out his dick and start softly touching the tip just to tease him a little. he throws his head back on the chair.

the movie theater was dark but that doesn’t stop me from seeing the red throbbing tip that lies in front of me

“when’s the last time you touched yourself, chris?”

“i don’t touch myself, i wait for you”

now if i wasn’t already turned on by this whole scenario, this sentence would have sent me into a spiral.

i knew the last time we had sex was over 3 days ago, had he really not cum in three days?

“good. i want you to always keep it like that. good boys don’t cum when mommy’s not around”

i felt it throb in my hand.

“awe do you like when i talk to you like this baby?”

“mommy please.” he whines

“please what, baby?”

“please put it in your mouth” he tries to whisper

with this phrase i immediately put as much of him in my mouth as i could.

the speed of my motion caught him off guard so he let out a huff that almost blew our cover.

i put my right hand over his mouth and used my left hand to stroke whatever could not fit in my mouth.

i stroke stroke stroke, spit spit spit, lick lick lick, just being sloppy on his dick cause i knew that’s what he liked the most.

“fuck y/n your mouth is absolutely amazing” he iterated in an exasperated moan

he started to thrust up into my mouth, forcing his cock deeper.

gagging on his dick, i let him continue because i knew he was about to cum

“omg omg omg i’m gonna-“ the boy says before releasing spurts of semen down my throat

“fuck y/n..” he says out in breathy moans

i swallow his semen and give him a kiss to further lay back in my original position

“oh we’re not done” he says after i get back in my spot on his lap

“wha-“ i’m cut short as i feel his hands slide down into my underwear

“you’re so wet baby, is that all from me?”

the code switch drove me insane, how he went from calling me mommy 3 minutes ago to calling me baby in that patronizing tone

“hmm? i need you to speak for me baby” he says while gently rubbing my clit in circles

“fuck chris, yes this is from you.” i say inbetween breaths trying to maintain my volume

“you sound so good when you say my name like that” he says keeping the pace steady

“chris i need you to go faster please” i plead

“beg me princess.” he says in a stern dominant tone

how could a sentence be so hot?

“please chris please go faster, i neeeed to feel you so bad… do your worst to me daddy”

this ignited a new passion in chris, a passion to make you a fuzzy brained mess for his fingers.

“you’re gonna regret saying that, princess”

he uses the wetness of my pussy to slide his fingers on in.

i freeze at the feeling of his fingers going in because immediately after, he starts thrusting his fingers inside of me as a pace uncomprehending

“chri- chris.” i moan quietly while trying to pull away from him

“don’t move princess, don’t you wanna be a good girl?” he says mockingly

i thrust my body up trying to follow the rhythm of his fingers as he pushes and curls his fingers deeper inside of me

“that’s it my pretty girl, feel good for me”

i continue to use my body to push into his fingers, feeling the knot in my stomach start to untie.

he pulls his fingers out and starts fastly circling my clit once again so he can help me reach my climax.

i cover my mouth in pleasure while pushing out the feeling of my orgasm.

“cum for me princess, you’re doing so good” he says as he talks me through it

losing control of my hips i start bucking into his hand while letting out my high.

“you just squirted all over the chair” chris says as i relax my body

“huh?” i have him repeat

“the chair.. look”

the chair next to us was covered in my juices

“oh my god.” i say as a notice the scene

“we need to clean this up” i continue

“after baby, i wanna enjoy you for right now.” chris says

he grabs me back in his lap to cuddle as we finish the movie.

“we’re definitely gonna have to rewatch this movie” i say laughing

“oh yeah for sure” he responds.

————————————————————————

a/n: thank y’all for reading this!! hope you guys enjoyed <33

#chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #smut #bd/sm switch #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #mommy k!nk #daddy k!nk #writers on tumblr

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adventuringblind · 6 months

Text

Possessive

Lando Norris x Reader x Oscar Piastri

Dialouge: "You are ours and ours only."

Summary: Oscar gets possessive during a night out.

Warnings: downright Filthy smut, marking, dom/sub, double penatration,

Notes: This is part of my 1000 follower celebration

Masterlist

Neither Lando nor Oscar would say they are possessive men. They love each other and their girlfriend, and they know she loves them. It's very difficult, however, to remain neutral while watching another man flirt with her.

He started a conversation while she was dancing with Lily and Carmen during their post race celebrations. She'd politely tried to get away from him but the man is annoyingly persistent.

"Should we help her?"

"Can we do it without punching him is the real question."

"But it would be so satisfying if we did."

"Osc, you scoop the spiders up and take them outside. There is no way you can punch that guy."

The Australian whips around to face Lando. A smug look plastered on his face. "Wanna bet?"

Lando, with no alcohol in his system since he Despises the stuff, agrees. The Brit would soon come to learn never to challenge Oscar again.

The woman in question still looks highly unlikely comfortable and getting more agitated by the second. Relief, however, hits her as Oscar appears behind the man pursuing her and taps him on the shoulder.

"Pretty sure she wants to be left alone." His arms cross over his chest but he still looks as unassuming as ever.

Most people would assume Oscar doesn't know the definition of the word violence. She knows better, though. Her and Oscar had been together before Lando. If it's in the name of defense, he won't hesitate to swing.

"I don't see a boyfriend anywhere. Maybe you should go where you are wanted." The stupid man who can't take a hint seethes.

Oscar takes a step closer, invading the others space. "Seeing as I am one of two boyfriends she has, I think you should step away."

There is silence on the other end. Then a brutal look of disgust. "Well if she's used goods then you can have her, pal."

The look she hasn't seen for years only appears on Oscar for a second. The one that has is inner demons raging. The unflappable, sweet, gentle Oscar is seeing Red.

Only a second before the Aussies fist collides with the other man's jaw, sending him reeling backwards. He's always had a nasty right hook.

She says nothing as Oscar promptly takes her hand and guide her to the entrance. Lando trailing them from where he was watching. The Brit looks a mixture of terror and turned on.

The car ride is silent apart from the loud expressions passed between her and Lando and Oscar's fingers wandering occasionally. The last time he was like this neither of them could walk the next day.

The thing about Oscar, the incredibly calm and unfazed Australian, is that he takes all those emotions and puts them elsewhere. Into sex, specifically. Lando learned this the hard way. His teasing went one toe over the line. He ran out Oscar's patience in a series of events over the course of a week to test the limits.

So Oscar likes control more then he shows. It gives him an outlet, per say. He times and calculates and gets some kind of high off it. Plus it resets him to where he can take whatever shit people throw his way without losing his mind.

Oscar doesn't let go even after they are saftley back in their flat. Instead her body is slammed into wall of the entry way.

"Why don't you tell her what you said Lando. What got you into this mess." The voice he pulls out is the condescending one. The one that makes her knees weak.

"I said you wouldn't punch the guy."

"And if I proved you wrong?"

Lando swallows hard enough for her to hear it. Probably see it also, but her eyes are stuck staring at brown ones that are eating her alive.

"That I would do whatever you wanted tonight. No questions asked."

Lando screwing himself is not shocking. Now, Lando actually doing what he's told? That is even more shocking then when he got drunk. Only once before he decided he hated it for sure.

"Then I want you stripped and on the floor in the bedroom." Silently, the Birt pads away to do as told. Oscar loosens his hold on her body and give her some space. "Seriously though, are you okay? We won't do this if you were any kind if put off by that."

"And miss this opportunity? Absolutely not. If anything to sight of you actually punching somebody has me feral."

"Good. Then let's go find Lando."

Lando, to his credit, is following through. He just looks wicked sad about it.

"Lando? You alright love?"

"Doing what you're told is much less fun."

Oscar rolls his eyes at the pouting boy on the floor.

She was going to ask for instructions. But as she opens her mouth she finds there is no need. Oscar is dragging her to bed. Her clothes are litterally (and unfortunately) ripped from her body. The room is cold without layers, but it won't be for long.

Oscar's lips are everywhere. He kisses, sucks, licks, and bites every inch of skin on her body. Every peice of her knows the feeling of the Aussies warm lips. Every kiss leaves her tingly and every bite leaves her wanting.

"Lando, come here. I think people need to be reminded that she is ours. Would you like that baby? Do you want people to know you are ours and only ours?"

Her brain is too far gone to respond coherently. Lando has already got to work, claiming her where Oscar hasn't already. The Australians voice is gentle, but it's demanding. There is a need burried within it that says he needs people to know she's taken.

"I swear you're just too pretty. Everybody wants you. I'm tired of them not knowing you're already spoken for." Oscar is the next to shed his clothes. Lando's hands have gone from stagnant to touching her like she is the air he breathes. Both males are staking their claim on her tonight. A shared feeling of want for people to know she chose them passes between the two.

Mumbled pleads escape her. Some kind of contact where she's sensitive needs to happen or she might combust.

"Think you can take both of us in the same hole love?" Back to gentle. His need to care for her outweighed the need and desire to have her like this. It makes her agree so fast she gets dizzy from nodding her head so much.

Lando gets to be underneath her. His lips are still attached to her skin. It muffled the moans and tiny whines he's letting out as she sinks down onto him.

"Yiu know, Lando. That guy said our girl is used goods. What do you think? Do you agree with him?"

Lando detaches, his mouth agape. "I can barely get into her mate. I don't know how you're going to. Feels good to me."

"But aren't I used?" She whimpers.

Lando's hand reaches around her front to play with her clit. His large nimble fingers send shockwaves through her body.

"You are not 'used goods' baby." Lando says into her skin. His warm breath sticks to her shoulder. "We love you. We're keeping you. Fuck anyone who says shot like that."

To say she's gushing at this point is an understatement, despite that fact Oscar decideds lube is a smart idea. Now she's even more wet and sticky that she was with just her own self made lubricant.

Oscar takes it incredibly slow. To slow for her liking. But the second he's sliding into her, the friction with Lando, the stretch and positioning of everything. Yeah - it hurts.

Her teeth sink into Oscar's shoulder. Lando's hand is caressing her cheek and wiping away the stray tears that slip down the sides of her face.

It is ridiculous, really, the situation she's in right now. But she can't think as Oscar is cooing praises in her ear and Lando is meticulously puting his hands on her.

They spiral quickly after that. The tension that was in Oscar's shoulders releases as he is finally able to take what he needs. Lando has decended into a mess of moans and thrusting hips.

She is completely at their mercy. A mess of movment. The symphonic melodies of their voices fill the space of the bedroom. Hot breaths stick to her skin over the already present layer of sweat.

The ache in her bones and coil in her stomach rapidly approach a breaking point. She can't even warn them as everything in her snaps and leave her body a flailing mess. The two boys stutter and sink further into the mattress.

Then a silence. An amazing thread connecting all three bodies together.

They stay like that for the next ten minutes. Unmoving. Listening to the sounds of breathing and heartbeats.

"That was eventful."

"No kidding."

"Sorry if I was to rough."

All of them laugh. "Maybe you should apoligize to the guy at the club."

Oscar pulls out slowly, and then Lando lifts her gently off him. Then they actually collapse. Arms outstretched to hold each other close. "We need to clean up."

"We also need to look at your knuckles, Osc."

"I still can't believe you punched him."

Oscar rolls his eyes. "Well it ended well didn't it? I don't hear you complaining."

"Remind me to never challenge you again."

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sykosugu · 29 days

Text

♤♢ on the run ♧♡ | prologue

♤ summary: she's an infamous bank robber, and he's the only detective that's been able to get close to her. he was never apart of her plans. but he's got his clutches in her and she can't let go. a geto suguru au

♢ warnings: this story will contain descriptions of violence, destructive behavior, toxic behavior, illegal activities, sexual content, death. use of weapons. forbidden romance

♧ currently: on going | no posting schedule

♡ taglist: open! just let me know

♤ wc: 1.4 k (they will get longer I promise)

♢ carlile speaks: hi everyone! welcome! I was working on chapter one, and the mood boards (yes boards, there are two more bc I'll do anything to avoid writing even though I love doing it) and this idea popped in to kind of give you a beginning thought as to how they officially met. But chapter one is coming! enjoy this little insight, and I know it definitely is little right now!

you are here | next part

Seventy seconds. That’s all you had until the silent alarm blared at the local police station. But lucky for you, you only need thirty of those seconds to get what you needed. A simple in and out procedure was always how you operated.

In through the front door, dressed to impress. A Bag under your arm and an umbrella in your hand. The umbrella is the key. Literally.

Bank managers always approach you from first entry, wanting to impress someone who looks so lavish; we must keep our high end customers happy. You’re led to the safety deposit room, with the intent of placing your precious jewels into a box.

Until the handle of the umbrella is twisted and a knife is drawn.

The knife held to the manager's throat while he opened every single box he could in the 30 second time span. But you know exactly which boxes to open. You've been surveying this area for weeks now. Camera hacking. One of your specialties. Every customer who entered this room in the last month, you’d seen and known what to take. Totally under wraps; never to be seen until the job needed done.

When the managers think they can overpower a girl like yourself, the gun stashed in your waistband makes its appearance, deftly putting the men in their places.

This was always how you operated. Never the cash; always the safety deposit boxes. Sometimes the items placed inside were of monetary value, but some were of unmatched value; precious family heirlooms that could get ransomed for way more than any cash vault would hold. That’s always what you were after. Sometimes, jewels were involved and that was a plus. A girl can never have too many diamonds. They are your best friends after all. But the ransomed heirlooms, some of kings and queens of the corporate world: that was your MO. You were the Red Queen.

Were.

Suguru was not something you’d anticipated. Suguru was your biggest flaw. He was now your weakness. But he was also the enemy.

He’d been tracking you for months; been minutes from you so many times. You were his biggest project that he’d never been able to get his hands on. You were a myth at this point. Never actually seen, except by the bank managers who were never able to give a good enough description.

“She had big sunglasses, bright red lipstick and a killer smile.”

He knew that much. That was it.

Until now.

He had you.

You walked out five seconds too late.

He had you.

A hand harshly grips the back of your upper arm, spinning you around. Your fist instinctively reaches up, elbow colliding with the person in question; a cracking sound fills the air as your arm connects with their face. You’d successfully knocked their head back. Killing was never your objective when it came to defending yourself, a body leads to problems. You don’t have time for problems. Suguru’s used to combat though, with gritted teeth he takes the blow. Cracking his neck, his other hand reaches to grasp your other arm, flinging you down onto his car's hood as pedestrians continue on their day. Most stop for the show, but others see the badge hanging from his neck and don’t question anything. Your back comes in contact with the car, your head bouncing off the surface; ears ringing from the loud bang. Your arms are braced in front of you as you feel the handcuffs being placed around your hands.

He had you.

Nobody could ever get you. You were like a ghost in the nighttime; but he found you out. Who was this guy? Why does it kind of turn you on? But it also definitely terrifies you.

“We finally meet,” he grins down at you. “I’m Detective Geto, and you’ve been my biggest foe for almost a year,” You just stare back at him. “But you can call me Suguru.”

You were in the back of his car in minutes. Hands cuffed in front of you while he stared at you in the rearview mirror. Unbeknownst to you until now, he’d lied about catching you. He said you’d gotten away again.

He watched you walk into the bank this time. He was the one who was ahead. He finally had the upper hand.

And he liked it.

“No, sir. She got away again.” you heard him say flatly in the front seat. “Yes, sir, I get that but if–” he stops, pressing his thumb and pointer finger into his eyes. “Sir, if i can just speak for a minute,” you can hear yelling through the speaker, but no words can be made out.

Why isn't he telling him you’re right here? What is going on?

“Sir, I had her. She got away. I’ll get her again.,” he pauses again, “Yes sir, I understand. Thank you, Chief. I got it. I’ll handle it. Thank you.”

He’ll handle what? What is happening?

Suguru’s eyes catch yours in the mirror. “You’ve been eluding me for the longest time, Y/N. Or should I say The Red Queen.”

“Call me Ruby. I don’t use that name anymore,” you mutter. Unsure why you’re even responding. What does he want with you? He lied about you to his boss.

“Ruby,” he swirls the name around his tongue, “Pretty,” and he’s starting the car.

“Where are you taking me?” you question, fingers reaching down to pull one of the bobby pins from your boot. You’re always prepared.

“Even if you free yourself, the doors are locked,” he smirks at you in the mirror. You catch his gaze, offering him a glare. “I’m not a threat to you. Not right now.”

What the hell does that mean?

“You’re literally a cop, and you’re not telling me where you’re taking me.”

“I just want to talk to you before I decide what to do next,” his eyes fixed on the road again. You notice the white in his knuckles from gripping the steering wheel so hard. He’s nervous. You could use that to your advantage. Wherever he was taking you, you were going to use your biggest asset: yourself; to get what you needed.

Your freedom. Your biggest job was coming up soon, and you needed to be prepared.

This cop obviously had an attraction towards you. If only he wasn’t a cop, you could entertain the thought of a relationship if he hadn’t been. But honestly, it would probably hold you back.

“Where are we going? Why did you lie? What’s going on?”

“So many questions, Ruby. Live a little,” he chuckles at you. Was this guy insane? A cop isnt taking the opportunity to turn you in? He’d be decorated for the rest of his life.

“Live a little? Do you hear yourself? You said I’d been eluding you for nearly a year, why arent you taking me in? Don’t you want the accolades? Detective Geto takes down the Red Queen,”

“Thought you didn’t go by that name anymore?” He questions, a smirk on his lips.

“I don’t,” you grumble. “But word obviously hasn’t spread yet,” your eyes roll.

“Besides, I'd rather get to know you first,” he says nonchalantly.

“Are you insane?”

“Maybe. But you are too,” he eyes you, making your face redden like your lipstick.

“You don't know anything about me,” you bite out at him. Who does this guy think he is?

“I do,” he states matter of factly. He states your full name. Your fake secured social security number. The list of aliases you use to book hotels, rental cars whatever you needed. He knew what he needed to know. But after seeing you in person, he needed to know more.

He put two and two together based off your appearance. A long black Chanel coat. Big black sunglasses. Dark red lips. The umbrella.

He just knew it was you. He watched you walk into the bank.

“Count to thirty,” he thinks to himself. He’d studied your tactics. He knew them like the back of his hand.

And waited. You were late. One. Two. Three. This might actually happen for him. Four. He’s sweating. Five. You’re here. You’re right here. If he just reaches out—

And now here he was, you in the back of his car driving you to his safe house.

Where he’d get to know what he wanted—needed—to know.

He would figure out a way to know everything.

♧ tags: @celestie0 @lostfracturess @carlacujo @alwaysfreakingout @shervinss @jaelahh @gojolvrr34 @shesplendl

(pls make sure your settings are right to get tagged!)

#jjk suguru #getou suguru x reader #suguru geto smut #geto suguru #geto x reader #jjk geto #jujutsu geto #geto smut #suguru geto #suguru x you #suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #suguru geto x y/n #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #geto suguru x you

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dressdaisy · 25 days

Text

kiss and tell 🎀

könig x reader fluffy drabble <3

warnings: none, unless embarrassment counts

it’s a tiny bit sad in the middle but then we get silly again :)

horangi makes an appearance too!

word count: ~1,400

turns out your husband, könig, isn’t that good at keeping you a secret…

you used to be a night owl, until you met könig. he kinda got you used to his soldier sleep schedule (up at 5 am, in bed by 10pm, when he wasn’t out in the field and forced to go days without sleeping). you were cursing your well adjusted sleep habits now, though, tugging your blanket around your shoulders as you see könig off at the door. it’s near 12 am, your neighborhood is quiet and still, but könig is as alert as ever.

you’d been out having a drawn out, romantic dinner when he’d been called on, but it was an urgent matter, so you two immediately went home so he could shower and pack. he always gets all focused and serious in times like these. he’s going on about the usual safety reminders-

“lock the door at all times, liebes” “don’t go out too late. invite your friends here instead.” “turn your scented candles off before you leave… on second thought, maybe just don’t use them at all? you’re a little forgetful sometimes”

-and you just smile sleepily at him, watching him adjust his bulletproof vest. of course to fully get into könig mindset, he’d gear up before leaving. your neighbors always turned in early, so he wasn’t worried about them seeing some scary soldier exiting your house, leaving them to wonder if that guy was friends with your tall as a tree, yet gentle husband. you’d already changed out of your favorite (and könig’s too) red dress, but you still hadn’t removed your makeup, opting to fuss over könig’s packing instead.

just as he taught you about bettering your sleep cycle, you taught him of accepting commodities and being cared for. now his pack has his usual stuff, plus on the go hygiene products, non perishable snacks (he has a weakness for these dark chocolate granola bars), and little mementos that are his guiding light through these trying missions. <3

now, huddled together at the doorway, you can’t help but tug him down by his vest for a kiss, pressing your lips over his through his mask. he makes a little noise of surprise, having been cut off mid safety rant, but he instead lifts his mask to kiss you “i’ll always come back to you, even if i have to crawl” (never “bye”) properly. the space between you warms as you kiss each other with all the love you have, damn near creating your own dimension where just the two of you exist. you know it only makes it harder for him to leave though, so you act as the rock, gently pulling back before wiping your lipgloss from his lips. “you’re gonna be late, love”, you whisper, discretely blinking away a tear when he glances at the clock on the entry table. “right as ever, königin”, he smiles as he straightens his mask picking up his duffel and helmet in one hand.

“redo of our date night?”, he asks, turning the door knob with his free hand and stepping over the threshold. you cross your arms over your chest, tugging your makeshift robe closed as the night chill from the open door sweeps in. “next weekend”, you declare confidently, full faith in your husband, secure in the knowledge that he’ll always make it back to you. the rest of his departure goes by in a blur, from the kiss he blows you before climbing in his car, to you locking the door after waving til his car turned the corner. a successful send off, you sigh as you head to shower and do your skincare before passing out for the night.

unfortunately, there was one little detail you both forgot…

könig strides into the base, heading straight to his office to grab some files needed for the mission briefing. he’d meant to get those documents signed and sent up the next rung of the kortac ladder, but no one had anticipated the turn of events that kickstarted this urgent mission. other soldiers were coming and going through the halls, some glancing (no one dared stare) at him in awe… or fear. either worked, in his opinion. könig couldn’t help but let it stroke his ego. he remembered how it felt to be a fresh faced rookie, only hoping to someday become one of the higher ups. he chuckled quietly to himself, even slowing his purposeful pace a little to give the newbies a nice colonel könig sighting.

when you got it, you got it, no?

he sauntered to his office, noting horangi was waiting outside his door. he also noted the way his friend’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as he took in his appearance. könig returned horangi’s strange look with a confused look himself. he’d checked he got everything right before leaving your house. his vest, the gear strapped to his vest, his mask, he even made sure to put his helmet on before entering the base… so why was horangi staring at him like he’d sprouted wings?

“you old dog!”, horangi gave könig an easy push on his shoulder. “you got a girl and you didn’t tell me?”

what???

könig had done all he could to keep you safe and untarnished by his work… obviously you knew what he did, but he’d never delve into details, and he sure as hell didn’t tell anyone at work about you. what purpose would they have knowing? he didn’t need them trying to cajole you into coming to stay here just to have könig be available on base full time! his engel didn’t have to step a single foot in this place. how on earth did horangi find out?

kortac did have their own…creative…ways to find out information, and it would be much easier looking into one of your own compared to an enemy. könig was racking his brain for any instance where he might have noticed surveillance being run on him, or any of his non agency issued electronics acting odd from possible hacking. the mailman had been acting a little shifty… (no, he hadn’t) and his personal phone had been displaying that odd pop up every time he opened his photos app! (again, false alarm. it was a “storage full notice”. he’d filled up his storage with pictures of you and your adventures together.)

horangi, meanwhile, crossed his arms, thinking könig was trying to think up a convincing lie against the obvious evidence.

aha! what if horangi was just making a wild guess, trying to catch könig off guard? könig wasn’t a fool. he’d been in the business long enough to not fall for such a elementary level interrogation technique. he just had to keep his cool. horangi definitely had nothing on him. könig allowed himself a casual, light scoff before setting his duffel on the floor and facing his office door, wanting horangi’s weak interrogation over with already. “where is this coming from? now’s not the time for jokes”, he huffed dismissively.

“you can’t be serious. you must have a girl…unless you’re going for a ‘confuse the enemy’ method now?”

okay, now könig was annoyed, which is saying a lot, because horangi was the one colleague he most liked. “cut to the chase, kim” könig fished his keys out from his duffel, flicking through them to find the one to his office

“könig, there’s a glittery lip print on your mask… right where your mouth would be”

shit

the only sound in the hall was könig’s keys clinking as he dropped them in shock.

how could he forget you’d kissed him through his mask, while you were still wearing your cursed (it was actually quite lovely, it tastes like strawberries to könig, he’s just mortified right now) shimmering lipgloss?

that’s why all the soldiers he passed in the hall looked at him funny. it wasn’t awe, it was confusion! basically all of kortac witnessed him making a fool of himself! of course könig is losing his mind, horangi’s cackling laugh serving as the background music, but rest assured, könig’s reputation is safe. those five (5, fünf, cinco) soldiers he passed didn’t get a long enough look as to notice the glittering spot on his mask. only horangi was brave enough-and dare i say lucky enough- to actually look at the revered and feared colonel. könig’s thanking all the forces of the universe when he remembers he always packs backup masks.

for what’s it’s worth, your husband sure learned his lesson. that’s how the only restriction regarding your kisses came to be

new rule: no kissing over the mask

. . . . . . . . . . . .

sorry, i just love making könig be silly 🫶🏼

#könig cod #könig #könig x reader #könig x you #könig fluff #könig drabble #könig mw2 #konig call of duty #konig cod #cod x reader #cod drabble

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stickthisbig · 1 year

Text

I've started conducting job interviews at work now? It's terrifying but it turns out I'm really good at it? So if interviewing is daunting, here is my advice from the other side of the table. It turned out to be very long, so here's a cut.

When you apply:

Oh my god please spell check your resume, I beg of you.

Gimmicks absolutely will not help you. You will get so much farther with a resume that is neatly formatted and a cover letter that is straight to the point.

Make sure you count all your experience!! Internships and fellowships count as experience!! The computer system will reject you and I'll never see it in the first place!!

After you've gotten the interview:

If you're trying to get a job in a field you've never worked in (as most of the people I interview are), break down your former employment or experience into the skills you used and keep that information at hand. You used to work in food service? You have experience in delivering an experience at a high quality with basically no margin for error, and you work well under pressure. You were a telemarketer? You have experience at following a workflow and deescalating conflict.

We and every other job WILL be asking you about a. conflict management and deescalation (have examples for how you resolve conflict with coworkers, clients, and bosses) b. personal time management (how you stay organized and on schedule) c. what you do when you realize you can't handle a problem by yourself d. your strengths and weaknesses (see below) Just go on and have an answer ready. You will be asked. There will be questions you're not prepared for. Be prepared for these.

Do a little googling about the company/organization. What will become extremely clear to you immediately is whether they're going to care about you caring about the mission. Some businesses don't. Every non-profit and every government agency does. If they seem like they care, you should pretend to care.

Ask all your questions of the person who is scheduling the interview. I don't recommend trying to figure out who will be your boss and contacting them. Everybody's very busy all the time, none of us are hiring specialists, and we're using the HR staff to act as our buffer. You will look like a nuisance, not a go-getter.

Do look at a map and figure out where you're going. It's vastly preferable to call an hour ahead and say you're unsure where to go than call ten minutes late and say you're lost.

When you walk into the office:

I personally don't give a fast fuck if you come empty handed, but some interviewers HATE that, so definitely bring a notebook and a pen. It's no longer necessary to bring paper copies of your resume. If you're going to interview a lot, may I recommend dropping five or ten bucks on a sketchbook at Michaels or similar? It looks polished and also you can actually use it for things. If you need to write notes to help you remember anything from above, it's okay to write them down. Anybody who would ding you for that isn't someone you need to work for.

If you don't know what to wear: black or khaki pants, nice shirt. Preferably a blazer, but that's optional at entry level imho. Lately I'm finding that the men's sections in thrift stores have better selections? If you've got big hips, you can slit the sides of a men's dress shirt up to your waistline and tuck it in. If you have to come in jeans, wear a belt. If you only have a t-shirt, make sure it's clean and tuck it in. You don't have to prove to me you have money to get this job; you just have to prove to me that you are taking this opportunity seriously by presenting yourself neatly, because you will be expected to be dressed neatly at work.

My sibling in Christ beloved child of God, be polite to every fucking person you see. Oh my god I cannot stress to you how polite you need to be. I cannot believe that this is a thing I have to say, but I sure do! If it's close between you and another person, that snippy comment you made on the elevator WILL lose you that job. Ditto for if they walk you around to meet people. Just be THE politest motherfucker.

When you walk into the room:

When you sit down, what you are looking at is one person who is running the interview, twoish people who are related to your job, and sometimes also someone from HR, unless HR does all the interviewing. One of these people wants to be your hype man. If it's my office, it's me, I'm hype man. I want to have a dialogue with you to see how prepared you are and how good of a communicator you are. I want this interview to go fast and seamless. I'm in your corner. Don't play to the guy who's actively staring off into space. Focus on the interviewer who's most focused on you.

NEVER downplay your own experience. Getting a job you're underqualified for is a problem for future you. If you only have internships, or you only have retail, or you only have food service, or you only have work study, fuck it. You walk in there and act like you've been the goddamn president. The question of your qualifications and the question of your experience are separate. Never act like your experience doesn't count because it's in a "lesser" field.

EVERY. TIME. you are asked about your weaknesses, explain how you have used them for growth. Do not wait to be asked, just slap it in there. One of my biggest weaknesses is giving up control, so I've made a conscious effort to involve other people earlier in the process. If you're not fuckin working on your weaknesses, just try to imagine what would be a good idea. Or maybe work on them? I'm not your dad.

What I am looking for is your ability to answer my questions in a complete and concise way. If you can't give me a specific example, I want you to be able to reflect on your previous work and say "When it comes to X, my experience doing Y is relevant in this way." I am asking you for a synthesis. Most of what I need you to do in this position, I know you've never done. If there is something where I specifically need you to have done X as a professional qualification, there is nothing else you could say that would be right, so you have nothing to lose.

Keep some question in your back pocket for when they ask "do you have any questions for us." It is a hundred percent okay for this to be a softball question, but it's also okay to ask something more probing. You can ask how they handle training, town and gown relations, what the possibilities for employee development are, whether they've done any diversity initiatives, if there's a good work-life balance, what the previous person in the position is doing now, what their strategic planning is like, whatever, just something to prove you're engaged. Do not ask about leave, and do not ask a gimmicky question you saw on the internet. If you can't think of anything, just fuckin ask them how they like working there. That's perfectly fine.

This isn't the time to bring up ADA accommodations. The person who can approve that for you is almost certainly not in the room, and you put us in a super weird position. I am saying this as a person who receives ADA accommodations from my employer and did not disclose my disability when I was hired, as is my legal right. Don't bring it up until you think it would actively prevent you from fulfilling a job requirement or accessing the office. In the before times I had a dude once who called me asking if the building was accessible, because he just wasn't going to interview if it wasn't, and I was just like "...that's fair, my man, but you can come on down."

After the interview:

I fully don't care about a thank you note; I'm unlikely to see it anyway. Some people do. You may send one (1) and ONLY ONE thank you note; generally it should just go to the person who scheduled your interview. Do not, and this is so important, do not email again. I know it is the fucking worst how employers get away with ghosting people but my friend you and I cannot change that. (We do send notices to people who get interviews but don't get the job; people who don't get interviews are informed by the computer system.)

It's gonna be okay. I'm not trying to trick you; I want this to go smoothly, and I want you to demonstrate that you understand how you would use what you've already done to do what I need you to do. I don't want this to be awkward any more than you do. Actually, I want this not to be awkward more than you do, because I have to do this several more times.

#work advice #interviewing #I'm interviewing my new intern in like a week and a half aaaaaaa

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ficmashup · 4 months

Text

Taken

Summary: You join TF141 after something happened on your last deployment. They take you in and while it takes some time, you find yourself warming up to them, and them to you. Perhaps especially to the Captain.

A/N: Nothing like a sprinkle of angst on Christmas Eve. ;) I will be doing a part two for this because I can't resist, but can't promise when I'll post it. Soon, I hope! Have a lovely holiday to everyone celebrating. :)

Warnings: SA mentions if you squint, crass language, death, stabbing, beating, shooting, torture, angst, trauma, overall I just decided to stab the characters in the feels. Just a bit. Happy ending though, imo.

Word Count: 4.7k

Masterlist

It’s not expected, but then again, these things never are.

What kills me the most is that Ghost had to be there, had to see it. I’d rather it had been anyone else just so I could spare him the pain of reopening old wounds. We’d been clearing a warehouse and stumbled upon more than we’d expected. We both realize our mistake at different times and I have a split-second decision to make. I’m ahead of Ghost by a dozen or so feet and hidden behind a pile of crates, so I see the group first.

There��s no time to warn Ghost and if he comes forward, he’ll be shot on sight. So I step forward first. I take out those closest to his entry point and my focus on keeping him safe leaves me vulnerable. Ghost moves in just as I’m grabbed from behind and I ram the butt of my gun backward into my captor’s ribs. There’s a grunt, but he doesn’t let go and I drop my gun to hang from my chest in exchange for the long knife on my thigh. I plunge the blade into his thigh and hear a string of curses spat into my ear as their grip only tightens on me.

I fail to realize that during the struggle, they’ve managed to drag me backward towards a side door. My last view as I twist the knife is Ghost’s wide eyes behind the mask before my head is slammed against the wall and all goes dark.

* * *

I wake up tied to a chair. I keep utterly still and take stock of my body. My head is heavy and I feel the tightness of the skin on the right side of my face from where blood has dried. There’s a sharp sting coming from across my collar bone and my right ankle twinges. A sprained ankle and a scrape, I’d guess. Possibly a concussion. Nothing too bad. My wrists and ankles are tied to the arms and legs of a chair and the rope chafes, but the ties are sloppy. Keeping me here like this was unexpected, then. An opportunity that they couldn’t pass up.

I keep my breathing steady and my head bowed with my eyes shut. All I do for a few moments is listen. There’s shuffling and voices, but they’re muffled and seem to be coming from a nearby room. Multiple people, but more than likely less than a dozen. I take a chance and open my eyes, looking up and finding the space dim and empty. It looks like a shack barely held together by the sand and dirt covering the floor.

“Awake.” A voice with a rough accent comes from behind me and my spine stiffens as he moves in front of me. He’s limping slightly and I get a brief moment of satisfaction at knowing this is the man who grabbed me and I clearly dealt some serious damage. With the dried blood on my face and him being able to walk after clear medical assistance, I’d say I’ve been gone a few hours. The fact makes what’s left in my stomach curdle.

The man says a few words that I don’t understand, then one that I do. “…bitch.”

I chuckle softly. “Unoriginal.” His fist darts out and the hit is harder than I expect. It leaves me dizzy as the weak chair rocks with the impact. Stays on all fours, though. The man grunts and spits at my feet before walking to the door, apparently satisfied with his revenge. He opens the door and shouts something down the hall before looking at me with ill intent in his eyes. I shift a bit in my chair, noting that they’ve removed my uniform and boots. I’m only in tight shorts and my tank top. It’s going to be torture then. Fine. I’ve already been through hell and lived through it, fashioned myself teeth from the mouths of my demons I killed, I can take whatever poor imitation these amateurs try.

Three more men come in and one steps in front of the others. “Why you here?” He asks in broken English.

“To kill people like you.” I answer simply, staring unblinkingly at him.

He gives me a smile. “Coincidence. That is why we here as well. To kill people like you.” It’s a struggle not to roll my eyes. That’s the base of every conflict in the history of the world. He pulls his handgun and aims it at my forehead while I go completely still. “Tell me more.”

* * *

Hours pass. The torture is easy enough to sit through, nothing unexpected, nothing skilled, nothing I haven’t been trained for. The true killer is waiting with my own thoughts. Like thinking that they aren’t coming for me. Stupid. Utterly stupid. Yet the persistent feeling of being unworthy lingers in my chest. And I know that the longer I’m here, the more nagging those thoughts will be.

They can finally be rid of you, no trouble, no hassle, just a lost soldier, happens all the time.

I gasp as a soldier lands a particularly well-aimed punch to my gut and the chair finally falls over. I feel the arm crack at the impact while the group laughs, but the ropes around my right wrist and ankle are now free. My fingers slowly curl around the splintered piece of wood hidden under my body. One of the men waves his hand and another steps forward and yanks the chair back up. I use the momentum of the sudden movement to plunge the long piece of wood into his throat and get my free leg up under me to keep me from toppling over.

The man’s eyes go wide as he chokes on his own blood and everyone else in the room is frozen with shock. I take advantage of that and take the gun in the man’s thigh holster and manage to shoot two men before they draw their guns and one more before they manage to shoot. I use the body of the man I stabbed as cover, but I can barely hold him up. I grunt under the impact of a bullet hitting his dead weight and feel another bullet graze my shoulder before the door straight across from me bursts open. I take advantage of the distraction and shoot one more while the other gets a bullet between the eyes from the intruder’s gun.

I turn on instinct and level my gun at the intruders, stopping my finger just in time when I see the distinct, pale skull mask. “Fuck.” I lower the gun and let the body drop to the floor as Ghost pushes in, but I don’t miss the way he looks me over.

His hand grabs his radio before anything. “Clear, I’ve got the package.” He slings his gun over his back as he reaches me and I don’t realize that I’m trembling until he guides my hand to his shoulder to keep me upright as he unties my other wrist and ankle. My fingers cling to his tac vest like a lifeline.

“Confirmed. If package is secure, move out.” Price’s voice comes over the radio and my heart squeezes at the sound of his voice. I catch movement out of the corner of my eye and my hand still holding the gun twitches before I recognize Soap moving into the doorway to watch our backs.

“Clear, LT.” He reports before looking me over with wide eyes. I must really look like shit then.

“Affirmative.” Ghost responds over the radio with a wave back at Soap to tell him the same. “How bad, G?” He asks gruffly once the flimsy chair falls to the floor behind me and he stands up, keeping his forearms within my reach so I can use him to stand. His fingers graze my arms too, not gripping or grabbing, simply guiding.

My head shakes as I stare at him. “Not bad. Nothing broken.”

He nods in return and pulls out my uniform shirt and pants that he must have collected from the other room. My boots too. “Then let’s go. Can you walk?” I take my clothes gratefully and he keeps to my side while I slide the top on with only a slight wince as the fabric slides over the open wounds covering me. The pants are a little more difficult, but I manage before nodding to Ghost that I’m ready. He wraps an arm around my waist and I lower his hand to my hip as my ribs ache with protest. He corrects his grip and we limp out with Soap leading, gun up.

A few more bodies litter the narrow hall and the room beyond, but the true relief is when we walk outside and I can see the stars. I hadn’t realized how stale the air was in that shack and how the metallic smell of blood had stained my nostrils. I gulp down the cool air before I press my lips together as I hold in a laugh. My shoulders start shaking and Ghost’s pace falters before I shake my head. “It’s fine, I’m fine. It’s just the shock and exhaustion.” Laughter taints every word and I swear Ghost’s eyebrows furrow with concern before we keep moving.

“You get scarier all the time, G.” Soap comments ahead and I can’t hold back a low laugh even as I shake my head at myself.

“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry.” I breathe as the giggles make every word waver.

Ghost’s grip tightens as we carefully scale down the side of the rocky hill. “Not sure what you’re apologizin’ for. You fuckin’ got taken watching my ass and I’d rather have you laughin’ than anything else.”

My head shakes, the laughter fading as I struggle to keep my feet moving while my body starts to shut down. “I’m sorry for thinking you wouldn’t come for me.” Ghost comes to a full stop now as I look between the men and Soap has shock scrawled over his face.

“Course we did, lass. The hell you talkin’ bout?” Soap’s accent gets a little thicker, betraying how deep my words hit.

Ghost starts to move again and I stumble after him even though he’s practically carrying me on his hip. “Keep movin’.” He grumbles and regret lingers in my chest as we fall silent the rest of the way. At the bottom of the rocky path sits a car and my heart beats a little faster at seeing the two figures waiting there for us. Ghost picks me up and carries me the rest of the way before immediately handing me to Price once we’re close enough. He holds me close and tight for far too brief a moment before sitting me on the hood of the car. The moonlight is just bright enough to make out each other’s features and I can’t get enough of his eyes, even with the worry filling them.

“You broken?” He asks quietly and I can hear how the words drag and crackle on the way out of his chest. His hand perches on the side of my neck, his thumb brushing lightly over my pulse point to feel my heart beating.

I give him a weak smile. “Just a bit chipped. Nothing permanent.” I promise and it’s a gift to see a little tension leave his shoulders. “But I’ve lost a lot of blood. I need to be kept conscious as we head back.”

“Still the medic, hm?” He teases dryly but the attempt at humor soothes me more than anything else. “Gaz, let’s go. Fast and steady.” Price pushes the keys into Gaz’s hands as he passes by with a wink, pushing something small that crinkles in my hand. A real smile tugs on my lips. A candy. We pile in the car and it’s a surprise to find myself pressed tight between Ghost and Price with Gaz driving and Soap in the passenger seat. It’s as if everyone traded seats.

“Did…did either of you grab my med kit?” I ask as my head gets a bit dizzy and I pop the hard candy Gaz gave me into my mouth. Soap turns in his seat with a half-grin, holding up my kit. My hands reach for it, but Ghost intercepts and pulls it into his lap.

“What d’ya need?” He asks as he opens it and looks over the contents.

I shift the candy into my cheek. “Bandages. My ankle’s fucked. Need to wrap it at least.” Ghost glances at Price and they instantly come to a nonverbal agreement as John shifts me closer to him while Simon gingerly lifts my foot into his lap. I frown. “I can do it—”

“Let him. That’s an order.” John’s voice in my ear and the command in it has my body stiffening for a moment, then laxing a moment after. My back is pressed against John’s chest with his arm thrown across my middle, his hand heavy on my hip to use it as a steadying point rather than put any pressure on my ribs. He must’ve noticed how Ghost was holding me earlier. Doesn’t miss a thing, my Captain.

Ghost eases my boot off and my hands clench at the pain, but he’s careful and the steady ache of the rest of my body makes it easy enough to sit through. Once my sock is off too, he takes out a small flashlight and I grimace as the light illuminates just how bad my ankle looks. It’s red and swollen from all the activity I forced it through after the sprain. Ghost starts wrapping and I nod when he looks at me to make sure he’s doing it correctly.

When he’s finished and I’m satisfied, I move to pull my foot away, but he keeps a firm hold on it. He gives me a deadpan look. “Keep it elevated.”

I give him a look back that I’m sure is a bit lackluster given my current condition. “It’s supposed to be elevated above my heart, but that’s not happening in the car.”

“Better this than nothing.” Ghost responds without a second of hesitation and his eyes don’t budge from mine. My mouth opens again, then shuts when Price gives my hip a soft squeeze. My lips purse, but I don’t say another word as I relax into John and try to keep my eyes open. I rest my hand on John’s knee and my thumb slides back and forth as I breathe in his scent.

“Give me a list of injuries.” He says and I nod, fighting through the fog of my mind to think clearly.

“Uh, sprained ankle, head wound, possible concussion, multiple lacerations, bruised ribs on my right side, a bullet graze to my left shoulder, and some bumps and bruises.” I go over the list twice in my head before nodding slightly in confirmation. The car is silent for a few beats and I feel a weight settle over all of us. The weight that comes with caring for someone else and hurting when they’re hurt. I swallow, struggling to accept the feeling rather than struggle against it and feel guilty for inflicting it on others. In truth, it’s a choice they all made. I choice I made too, when I let them in.

“Don’t think I ever asked how you are when you’re the one who needs to be treated.” John barely breaks the silence, but the tension lessens when I hum a tired laugh.

“Oh, I’m sweet as sugar, Captain. Naturally.” That gets chuckles from most of the men in the car.

“Liar.” Soap accuses, grinning back at me and I give him a smile in return. Also, I show him my middle finger. He returns the gesture instantly and happiness flits through me at the simple banter.

“You’re not gonna be difficult for me, are you, sugar?” John whispers just low enough for me to hear and I smile, wincing as it stretches a cut on my cheek.

“I like to think I behave better than most of you do when you need care.” I give Ghost a pointed look since he’s the worst of the bunch and he grunts, shaking his head while Soap and Gaz make noises of dissent.

Price shifts and my grip tightens on his knee until he settles again. “I remember being pretty docile last time.”

“After some convincing.” I return, my eyes shutting for just a moment before I feel light flicking at my nose. My eyes open and see Ghost pulling his hand back, head shaking with eyes on mine. I nod once. Got to stay awake. It goes on like this for the rest of the drive. One or all of them keeping up a conversation with me while Ghost taps my nose, pulls my ear, or annoys me in some other way when I start to drift. When we arrive at base, I can barely give one-word answers because I’m so exhausted.

The men rush me into the medical tent and I hate being set on the bed, hate being the one who needs treatment, hate the starchy feel of the sheets, and hate being poked and prodded. There’s a deep frown on my face as I allow the medics to do their job and they give Price the same list of injuries that I gave him earlier. Only after they hear that, and that I’m going to be fine with rest and treatment, Price dismisses the others and they reluctantly go. Although Gaz slips me another hard candy before he goes and gets a smile out of me.

Price stays. Even after the medics pull me aside and push me into a sterile bath to clean all my cuts after I practically showered in that man’s blood, I return smelling like chemicals and find Price waiting. I give him a look and the corner of his mouth lifts, but I can’t bring myself to verbally scold him. His presence settles me as it always has and that’s something I’m especially grateful for while I’m here.

There are a few places where I need stitches and I sit through it silently, Price and I just looking each other over. Seeing that we’re both alive and safe. The medics wrap my ankle again and lay me down in bed with it elevated while I try to keep my grumbling to a minimum. I’m exhausted, but this place, this position, keeps me on edge. But it’s getting harder to resist.

“Just sleep.” John says with a hint of humor in his voice as he sits in the chair next to me.

I heave a breath, nodding. “I’m not fighting it. Just hard to do in a place like this.” He moves a touch closer and breathing comes a little easier as his fingers slot with mine, the tips of his fingers sliding over the length of mine. He understands more than most why I’m having trouble.

“You’re not going to be alone here. Not for a second.” He promises with nothing but sincerity in those lovely blue eyes. My lips press together.

“I can’t ask you for that.”

“You’re not. I’m giving it to you.” He returns instantly and I can’t help but melt. Can’t argue with that. “Sleep.” His other hand raises to slide over my head, his fingers twisting a few locks of hair between them. My eyes flutter closed at the feeling and I don’t mean to fall asleep, but his gentle touch lulls me into peace in seconds.

* * *

I wake up feeling a slight weight settling on top of me and I’m on alert in a split second, my eyes flashing open and my hands darting out to grab what I can. The person freezes and I end up staring into dark eyes with their wrist in one hand and the collar of their shirt in the other. “Just me, G.” The voice takes a few moments to sink in, but I relax a second later with a grimace as the sudden movement tweaked my ribs.

“Ghost.” I breathe and slowly release him while he lets go of my wrist that he grabbed to keep me from choking him. “Gotta stop meeting like this.” I tease and he hums as he sits in the chair next to me, moving it as close to the bed as he can. I settle back down and note that the slight weight was another one of his jackets laid over my chest. A little smile pulls on my lips at the sight.

“Think I’d have learned by now. Especially since you still have my other jacket.” He flicks his chin towards the one covering me and I smirk while my heartbeat slowly calms. He’s only wearing the cloth that covers his face tonight and there’s no black smudged around his eyes. It’s as close to being Simon as he allows himself to be on base.

“I always meant to return it.” I say honestly, thinking fondly of his jacket hanging in my closet back home. “Think I like it too much now. I’ll get you another one.” That earns me a rare chuckle as he leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

“Sounds good.” He agrees and there’s that little glint in his eye that tells me he has something to say. He’s either waiting until he’s ready to say it, or he’s still mulling over the words in his mouth. “Took me a solid ten minutes to get Price out of here.” I smile, imagining the soft argument followed by Ghost shoving Price out of the infirmary.

“Thanks for relieving him.”

He shakes his head. “Not a problem.”

“And you wanted to talk to me.” I help him along a bit with amusement in my voice as his fingers knit together and his gaze steadies on mine.

“I did.” He confirms and now I wait, letting him decide when he’s ready to talk. My hands slide over the jacket he laid over me, grateful for the lack of chemical smell emanating from it. It just smells like him. Like bitter tea leaves and a small citrus tang that usually taints his clothes. Probably his detergent. “I don’t forgive you.” He starts and my attention immediately shifts to him and his dark eyes trained on mine. “I don’t accept your apology for thinking we wouldn’t come for you because that’s bullshit and I won’t forgive you until you never fucking believe that again.”

My eyes widen when I hear the heat in his tone. It’s not that odd to hear Ghost get riled up, especially around Soap, but I’ve never had him take that tone with me. Not seriously. “I know it was stupid.”

“Damn right.” He grumbles and I give him a pointed look for rubbing it in. “Say it. Tell me you know we’ll always come for you.” His gaze is unyielding and I know he means it.

“I know the team will always come for me.” Even to my ears, the words sound hesitant. Ghost’s eyes narrow.

“You say that every day ’til it feels as natural as your fucking name. And I’ll ask you to say it every once and a while. ‘Til it’s a reflex.” I sigh, but his tone is insistent. After a moment, I relent with a nod and he pins me in place with his eyes before nodding back and relaxing again in his chair. “You don’t get to save my ass, then think we’re not coming after you. Never believe that, G.”

“I get it, Ghost. I’ll do it.” Because it’s important to him and because he’s clearly trying to do something good for me, even if it’s something I hesitate to do. “And when I can stand without falling over, I’ll give you a hug for being such a pain in my ass.” The mask twitches and his eyes crinkle so I know he’s smiling.

“We’ll see if you can catch me to do it.” He returns and I smirk, knowing he’ll let me. “Now, go on and pass out. Price’ll have my hide if I keep you up.”

“Mmhmm.” I smile and let my exhaustion catch up with me, falling asleep a little easier with his scent in my nose rather than the chemicals that cleaned my body.

The next time I wake, Soap has taken Ghost’s place and morning light is seeping into the tent. “Morning, lass.” He greets and I give him a bleary grunt in return. “Cheery in the morning.” He quips and I’m about to tell him what he can do with his cheer before he points to a tray beside me. “That’s for you, if you’re up for it. Will ye let me help you up without bitin’ me?” Soap gets up and I nod, grabbing onto his arms as they slide under mine to pull me up into a sitting position.

A long breath leaves me as pain echoes through my body with every movement, but Johnny is gentle and makes sure to stack pillows behind me before moving back. He pushes a glass of water into my hand along with some pills. “Nurses said to give those to ya.”

I raise a brow and take the pills despite how my face hurts. I bet I really look like shit. “They trusted you with a task? I’m shocked.”

He smirks. “At least your spirits are still high.” Soap reaches over and pulls the tray closer to hover over my lap. “Eat up. Took everything in me not to steal your applesauce.” I hum amusedly, picking up the small container first and happily digging into the sweet treat. Soap flicks my ear. “Cruel lass. Careful, I might rethink my offer.”

I pause and raise a brow. “Offer?”

Mischief glints in his eyes and I take a deep breath to prepare myself. “You’re coming to Scotland with me.” He says with a smug grin. “The group we took out last night were the last few we were after, so we’re on leave starting the day after tomorrow. Since you’ve got no one waitin’ for ya at home, I’m takin’ ya with me to see my family. So I can keep an eye on ya.” He winks at me while I blink a few times to make sure I heard him right.

“That’s…that’s not necessary, Soap. I can take care of myself.” I frown as I think of myself laying on his couch surrounded by his family, just taking up space. “I couldn’t possibly impose on you and your family.” Besides, it’s been a long time since I’ve met someone’s family. Parents…I haven’t been around parents in at least a fucking decade.

“Too bad.” Soap answers instantly, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. “I’ve already told my Ma and she’s excited to meet ya. If you resist, I’ll carry you there slung over my shoulder.” I pout, setting my food down on the tray as I try to think of a way out of this. “Come on, lass, it’ll be fun. You only have to stay off your foot for a little while and I’ll be there to entertain you in the meantime.”

My teeth sink into my bottom lip as I look at him and if anyone can pull off a puppy dog look, it’s Johnny. After a few moments I sigh, pressing my fingers to my temple. “You’re sure your family doesn’t mind—”

“They’re fucking thrilled, G. Come on, just say you’ll come without a fight.” He leans forward and nudges my leg gently.

A smile tugs on my lips and I’ll admit the thought of seeing Johnny at home is a tempting one. “Yeah, okay, I’ll come.” His face brightens immediately and his big grin makes accepting worth it.

“You won’t regret it. One minute in Scotland and you’ll never want to leave.” He assures me and I nod along, listening with a fond smile as he tells me about his sisters, his mother’s cooking, and his father’s terrible jokes. To my own surprise, I find myself actually…looking forward to it.

Taglist (hello, lovelies, hope you enjoy. Lmk if anyone wants to be tagged):

@under-the-dirt @jj-ara33 @sorchateas @cherry-blosom-tree

@thriving-n-jiving @jinxxangel13 @emsstuff1 @missmidnight-writes @thereeallink @younggirlgenius @1wh4re1nova @ghostslillady

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queenshelby · 8 months

Text

Forbidden Desire (Part 13)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader (Female/Incestuous)

Warnings: Incest (at this stage accidental), Age Gap, PTSD, Domestic Abuse, Self-Harm, Fluff, Smut

Please comment and engage xx 😘

Late at night, after the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting an eerie glow across the sky, you slipped out of the townhouse you now shared with your mother in Birmingham, which your father had bought for you. Your heart raced as you navigated through the dark streets, headed towards Liam's secret hideout.

Echoes of laughter and music drifted through the air, drawing you closer to the source. The sounds of revelry made your pulse quicken as you neared the entrance of a dimly lit pub.

Its wooden door swung open with a creak, revealing a dimly lit interior where patrons clad in colourful garb danced and sang to the lively melodies of traditional Irish tunes. Liam greeted you with a broad smile, his armoured vest and sleek trousers accentuating his muscular build. As you entered the establishment, your eyes met his, and the intensity of your attraction grew stronger.

Liam's gaze bore into yours, conveying a mix of hunger and longing that sent shivers down your spine. The scent of whiskey and sweat mingled with the rich odour of cigarette smoke permeated the air, creating an atmosphere that seemed to envelop you in its thick embrace. You found yourself drawn to Liam as if under a spell, compelled to follow him deeper into the labyrinth of the pub.

Each step you took echoed against the wooden floorboards, causing you to feel increasingly disoriented.

Despite your growing unease, you could not tear your eyes away from Liam's mesmerising figure. He led you through the crowd, weaving effortlessly through the press of bodies as they swayed to the rhythm of the live music.

The room gradually transformed, becoming more private and intimate as you progressed. The smell of alcohol, leather, and humanity intensified, leaving your senses reeling with excitement.

As you continued to follow Liam, his arm brushing against yours ever so subtly, sending shockwaves of desire coursing through your body.

In the depths of the pub, Liam guided you toward a small, secluded corner. Surrounded by velvet drapes, this area exuded an air of exclusivity, allowing you to feel sheltered from the chaos of the crowded room. Liam's hand grazed your shoulder, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"We need to be careful, Liam," you reminded him, wanting to keep the fact that you were dating a secret from your family.

The last thing you needed was rumours spreading about your romantic interests, getting to either your father or Tommy.

"Don't worry, love," Liam replied confidently, drawing you closer with his powerful arms.

"Our time together will remain our little secret. Nobody needs to know about us except for you and me." His tender kisses along your neck heightened your arousal, causing you to lose control of your breathing.

His lips trailed down your neck, slowly working their way back up, eventually reaching your own.

His touch sent electric currents surging through your body, making you feel weak and yearning for more. Your heart raced, pounding fiercely in your chest, as his tongue lightly grazed your lips, seeking entry.

As you opened your mouth to grant him access, you felt a wave of apprehension wash over you, and you, again, remembered the intimacy you had shared with Tommy.

Kissing Liam was not quite the same and even though you had been dating for almost three weeks now, you still had not slept with each other.

The thought of doing so terrified you. You did not know what he would do when he got to the point of having sex. It was all new territory for you, and you were still learning how to navigate it since the only man you ever slept with was your very own uncle.

"Slow down," you thus said to Liam, hoping he would understand your hesitation. His face hardened, and you saw his determination rise.

"Just give me a chance," he pleaded, his hands now cupping your face gently.

"If you trust me, let me prove myself worthy of your trust," he begged, but you felt somewhat uncomfortable still.

It was as if you could not fully surrender yourself to him. There was something holding you back, and you were not sure whether it was fear or just plain resistance.

"I am sorry Liam; I am not good with this. Intimacy scares me and I am just not ready yet," you admitted honestly as your heart ached at the thought of disappointing him, yet you could not bring yourself to push past your boundaries.

"Who would have thought that a member of the Shelby Family can be so prude, huh?" Liam sighed disappointedly, looking away from you. "You don't know what you're missing out on," he added, trying to tempt you further.

But you held firm, standing your ground, determined not to let him pressure you into doing something you were not comfortable with.

"You should focus on proving yourself worthy of my trust in other ways," you suggested, attempting to ease the tension since you were aware that Liam knew that you did not fully trust him just yet. "Besides, we don't need to rush things," you explained.

Liam's eyes narrowed in frustration, clearly unhappy with your decision.

"Alright, alright," he finally relented, seemingly resigned to respecting your wishes. "We'll take it slow. Just remember, this does not mean we're not exclusive. If anyone else tries to pursue you, I will not stand for it," he said as his tone conveyed a sense of possessiveness.

Awkward silence settled between you two as you navigated the aftermath of your disagreement.

Liam's expression remained tense, his jaw tightening as he fought against the urge to argue further. Recognizing his displeasure, you decided to attempt a change of subject but, before you could do so, Polly came walking into the room.

Her eyes immediately widened upon seeing the two of you, and her demeaner shifted from relaxed to alert in an instant.

"What's going on here?" she demanded, her voice edged with concern.

Feeling cornered, you glanced at Liam, who responded by stepping protectively between you both.

"Nothing's happening," he lied smoothly, his tone suggesting otherwise. "We were just catching up."

Polly eyed both of you suspiciously, but the moment passed without incident.

"Well, whatever it is, just remember Y/N, you are a Shelby now," she admonished before turning towards Liam.

"As for Liam O'Connor, you should know your place," Polly lectured him harshly, drawing disapproving looks from you.

"Polly, please. That is not necessary. We were just talking," you told her, knowing full well that her interference was not helping matters.

Polly's brow furrowed, her expression filled with scepticism. Her eyes flickered between you and Liam, weighing the honesty of your words. After a moment of deliberation, she appeared to accept your explanation, nodding curtly before turning to leave.

***

Unbeknownst to you, the following day, at the offices of Shelby Company Limited, Polly brought what she had witnessed to Tommy's attention.

"Tommy," she began as she barged into his office. "We need to talk," she stated bluntly, her tone serious. Tommy looked up from his desk, instantly recognising the urgency in Polly's tone.

"What is it?" he asked, setting aside his work as he rose from his chair. Polly hesitated for a moment, gathering her thoughts before continuing.

"You will not like this, Tommy," Polly said, choosing her words carefully. "But, last night, I caught Y/N in the middle of a conversation with Liam O'Connor. They appeared close, too close for my liking," Polly pointed out, causing Tommy to sigh.

Tommy's face contorted into a mask of anger, his eyes darkening with jealousy.

"Are you saying that one of my men is involved with my fucking niece?" he snapped, his eyes blazing with rage. Polly nodded grimly, confirming his worst fears. "How long?" Tommy asked sharply, his jaw clenching in anger.

"Since her birthday, I think. They must have met that night at your house," Polly answered, struggling to find the right words to explain the situation.

Tommy's grip on the edge of his desk tightened, his knuckles whitening as his grip intensified.

"Do you think they're sleeping together?" he questioned, his voice hoarse with barely contained fury. "Because if he does as much as lay a fucking hand on her, I will kill him, eh" Tommy warned, his face flushed with rage.

"Oh god, Tommy, enough with the jealousy already," Polly said, trying to calm him down but Tommy was beyond reason now. All he could see was the image of his beloved niece wrapped around another man, his mind racing with jealous thoughts.

"Don't you dare talk to me about jealousy, Pol," Tommy retorted angrily, his eyes flashing with a mixture of hurt and anger. "I am not fucking jealous," Tommy argued defensively, trying to convince himself more than Polly. "But I am cautious, eh? She is family after all," he added under his breath, unable to suppress his rage.

"Look, Tommy," Polly began, trying to reason with him. "I did not come here to tell on her. For all I care, she is a grown woman who can do whatever she wants...," Polly then began to say, trying to get to the point, but Tommy interrupted her again.

"That bastard, he doesn't deserve her, Pol!" Tommy said, the heat in his eyes betraying his jealousy, making it clear to Polly that she had struck a nerve.

"That's not the point, Thomas," Polly retorted calmly, trying to reason with him despite his temperament. "Now, would you please let me finish talking?" she asked, seeing that he had interrupted her several times by now, unable to deal with his growing jealousy.

"Yes," Tommy muttered darkly, his fingers fidgeting. "Speak," he commanded, his voice cold and detached.

"The reason I came here to even tell you about this is because I have a bad feeling about Liam. I always did, but usually, I would not interfere in your affairs, and I know that you put him in charge of fixing your races," Polly explained. "I cannot shake this nagging sensation that there is something wrong with him. He is hiding something," she warned, and Tommy, his face unreadable, remained silent, taking in Polly's words.

It was clear that he was weighing her concerns, considering them seriously.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and controlled. "So, you believe that Liam might be trouble, eh? And why exactly would you think that?" he asked, genuinely curious.

Polly hesitated, collecting her thoughts once more.

"I may not have concrete evidence, but I have a feeling that Liam isn't who he seems to be. He has been seen with a few unsavoury characters recently, and some whispers suggest that he might be involved in some activities that could interfere with your own," she revealed slowly, her eyes locked with Tommy's intense gaze.

Tommy's eyes narrowed slightly, a frown marring his features. His brain raced through various scenarios, analysing the potential consequences of Polly's claims. The fact that Liam had connections to unsavoury characters did not necessarily mean he was involved in activities that go against the interest of Shelby Company Limited, but it certainly raised suspicion.

"So, I should keep an eye on him, eh?" Tommy mused, deep in thought. His expression hardened; his eyes gleaming with determination.

Polly nodded in agreement, grateful that Tommy was willing to listen to her concerns. "Yes, you should keep an eye on him, and you should also keep an eye on Y/N. She could be in danger," she affirmed, her voice strong and confident.

"Trust me Pol, I will put an end to their interactions right fucking now," Tommy spat, calling for Arthur, but Polly intervened.

"Do you think that, telling Arthur about this, is the wise thing to do?" Polly asked, her voice low and cautious.

"You are right. I need to handle this myself," Tommy acknowledged, but Polly pointed out that if he were to intervene directly, disallowing you to see Liam again, this would likely backfire on them all.

"So, you want me to watch on and do nothing while this fucker makes a move on my fucking niece?" Tommy questioned with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"Yes, but get your trusted men to watch them both. You should also act cautiously around Liam and give him some space to find out what it is that he wants, Tommy," Polly advised, her eyes earnest and determined. "Let us not jump to conclusions yet. It is better to know our enemy first,” she said, and Tommy considered her advice, his eyes narrowing in thought.

"Alright, Pol, I will sit back and observe," he promised solemnly, his resolve evident in his eyes.

Polly nodded understandingly, knowing how deeply Tommy cared for you.

"Good," she told him, her voice gentle and reassuring before bringing up some other matters, including Lizzie's pregnancy and the upcoming elections where Tommy was in the run for the Labour Party.

Polly pointed out to Tommy that, by now, Lizzie was showing. Most people knew that Tommy was the father of the child, and, as such, Polly considered it to be wise if Tommy was to marry her.

Polly understood that Tommy cared deeply for you, but she also knew that he needed a wife - someone to solidify his position for the upcoming elections.

Tommy's brow furrowed at Polly's suggestion, his mind spinning with the implications of what Polly had told him to do. While he was aware of the political benefits of marrying Lizzie, he could not help but feel uneasy about the idea. His feelings for you were complicated, to say the least, and marrying Lizzie would only complicate his personal life further.

But as he mulled over Polly's suggestion, he realised that the stakes were high. With the upcoming elections, it was crucial for him to secure his position and gain public support. Marrying Lizzie could accomplish both goals while simultaneously shielding you from his desires for you. It would make things clear. It seemed like a strategic move, albeit an emotionally painful one.

His heart ached at the thought of losing you completely, of no longer having you in his life, though he knew that, ultimately, it was for the best.

"I will think about Pol," he said finally, a slight quiver in his voice betraying his conflicted emotions. Polly looked at him with concern, understanding the weight of his decision the depth of his feelings for you.

"Just remember, Tommy, you cannot have the woman you are in love with. She is your niece," Polly reminded him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Tommy's eyes met hers gratefully, and he sighed.

"You're right," he acknowledged before telling Polly that he had other business matters to attend to.

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