#so happy i found something i had to gif myself
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gemini | S.R.
two emotionally wrought people collide at a wedding, and a sexual escapade ensues.
who? spencer reid x fem!reader
category: smut (18+ mdni)
content warnings: softdom!spencer, use of the term "good girl" (i couldn't help myself), unprotected sex, reader on bc, alcohol, spoilers for 14x15 truth or dare, lowkey idiots in love, fucking against a wall?, fingering, heavy petting, r has an oral fixation, r is wearing a dress and makeup, explicit consent (hot), public sex, i think that's all
word count: 3.42k
a/n: this is a little self-indulgent and i don't care! based on literally just the first line of the song gemini by del water gap. probably not ever gonna get a part two. i've never done angsty smut (smangst?) before, so this was fun.
so, here's the setting, we met fucked up at a wedding
Swirling the drink you held in your hand, you watched your friends as they chatted. The pink liquid in the cup, concocted by Penelope Garcia, was far too sweet for your taste, but you needed the liquid courage to make it through the wedding.
It wasn’t that you weren’t happy for Krystall and Dave. It was that weddings oftentimes left a bitter taste in your mouth – one so bitter that not even Penelope’s drink could offset it.
In your periphery, you saw a blur of purple in the corner, looking up to see Spencer. His hand still bandaged from his most recent brush with death, he used his free one to grip a glass of water. Raising your eyebrows, you gave him your best attempt at a smile before you greeted him, “You look good, Dr. Reid.”
He was fully donned in his favorite color, and you tried to pretend that you didn’t notice that your dress matched the purple hue of his suit. “Thanks,” he said shortly, not quite meeting your eyes.
Noting the way he was looking past you, you demurely leaned your head down, glancing over your shoulder so that you could see what he was looking at, only to see JJ. She looked gorgeous in her red dress, laughing at something her husband said before her eyes caught something.
She was staring back at Spencer, and not for the first time, you found yourself wondering what happened in that pawn shop. Bringing your eyes back up to Reid, you watched the confused look in his eyes bloom as he peeled his eyes away from JJ.
Sick of it, you spoke up, “Alright, I had dibs on being the mopey one tonight. What’s wrong?” You had wanted to brush it off as long-lasting nerves from the hostage situation, but he was acting strange.
You knew you weren’t his best friend, that was a title that JJ had been the reigning champion of since the beginning of time. Yet, you still noticed the rigidity in Spencer’s shoulders as he displayed a clear discomfort with his surroundings. You tried to think of something to say to him. How could you ask him if he wanted to get out of here without it sounding like a sexual proposition?
“JJ told me she loved me,” he said, his voice so low you weren’t even sure you had heard him correctly.
Your head snapped up, “Oh.” Swallowing thickly, you tilted your head curiously, letting loose hair tumble to the side. “Do you love her?” Likely not the right conversation for the wedding of everyone’s favorite right-person-wrong-time couple, but you were desperate for a rope to pull yourself out of your wallowing.
He took a sip of his water before setting the empty glass on the bar counter, “I did.” The admission hit you like a ton of bricks, until her continued, “but now…”
Filling in the blanks, you shrugged, “She’s married. They have kids.” Spencer was always doing the right thing, so pushing his feelings aside for the sake of JJ’s family made the most sense.
Furrowing his brows, he pondered this for a moment before speaking, “It’s not just that. I have feelings for someone else.”
“Oh,” you repeated, and somehow the thought of him being in love with an unfamiliar figure hurt more than him being in love with your mutual friend.
The both of you let the conversation lag, watching as Penelope came back up to the bar and poured more drinks. After she accused you of being boring for not wanting another drink, everyone returned to the tables. “Have you dated anyone since him?”
You choked on your newly acquired water, cupping your hand underneath your jaw in an attempt to stop water from getting on your dress. “Uh, no. I’ve kind of sworn off dating ever since,” you replied, shaking your hand out and letting water droplets fall to the floor.
Sighing, you slouched in your seat, remembering that all you’d ever be was a jaded bride. Left by your fiancé on the day of your wedding, doomed to never love again. Until you met Spencer Reid.
“For everyone?” Spencer asked, and you cursed his natural curiosity.
His question caught you off guard. Despite yourself, you shook your head, “I have like… one person who, if they asked me, I’d say yes.” Your skin started to feel warm, and you weren’t sure if it was your proximity to him or Penelope’s drink coming back with a vengeance.
Spencer stepped a little closer to you, leaning casually on the counter as if he wasn’t affecting your ability to focus. “Who’s your person?” The question was innocent enough that it made your heart ache.
“It doesn’t matter, he’s into someone else,” you told him, reaching behind your neck to pull your hair up, haphazardly twisting it. You didn’t have a hair tie, so you let the locks fall once you felt some semblance of relief.
This statement seemingly bothered Spencer because he looked into his glass, “Did he tell you that?”
Nodding, you chewed on the inside of your lip. “Yeah,” maybe not in so many words, Spencer was rarely crass enough to say he was into someone, but you understood well enough.
The conversation lagged between the two of you once again, your own private thoughts were only interrupted when the music changed. It was a slow song, one for the couples of the night to dance to.
You took a chance, “Do you want to go explore the building with me? It’s getting stuffy in here,” you said, taking one final swig of your water before jumping up from your stool.
He looked back at JJ, who was there with Will, and then forward to the girl who was asking to take him away, “Yes.”
David Rossi had spared no expense for his second wedding to his third wife, and the manor that you found yourself meandering within felt never-ending. Something about following Spencer as he led the way and told you facts about the history of the building felt so normal, and you wondered if it would hurt when the night was over. Maybe this would just end as another memory to loathe about weddings.
Trailing him into another room, you stumbled into his back. Quickly, Spencer spun back and caught you before you could fall to the ground.
Steadying yourself, your heart thrummed at the way he was touching you, tightly holding your waist so that you wouldn’t trip. Once you were no longer wobbling, Spencer reached up and gingerly lifted the fallen spaghetti strap of your dress back over your shoulder. Before you had fully thought out your actions, you leaned up on your tip toes and kissed him.
It was hesitant and gentle, but once you registered that you were kissing him you soon realized that he was kissing you back. What started out as a small peck on the lips quickly morphed into full, open-mouthed kisses.
You thought Spencer might eat you alive, and for a moment, you thought you might let him.
Without separating your lips, he herded you over to the wall, pinning your hips to the wall as you felt heat grow between your legs.
Pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth, Spencer pulled away ever so slightly, your faces just inches apart. “Is this okay?” He asked you, his eyes flickering down to your lips like he was holding himself back from kissing you again.
There was fear. A fear that if you moved forward tonight, nothing would ever be the same, but you took a chance and nodded quickly, “Yes.”
Your answer acted as a release as Spencer dropped his head back down and the two of you reattached your lips. Despite your attempts to ignore it, you felt his hardened length pressing into you through several layers of clothes.
Twisting your head away, you gasped as Spencer took the opportunity to place his lips on your neck, gently suckling on the tender skin as you tried to catch your breath. “Are you sure about this?” You breathed, running your hands underneath his suit jacket, wanting nothing more than to push it off of him.
“Yes,” he answered, giving you the same consent that you had already given him, and it was enough for you to reach for his belt buckle. No matter how badly you wanted to see him entirely bare in front of you, this just wasn’t the place for it.
Gently, you slid your hand down his front, savoring the way his breath hitched against your neck as your fingertips precariously lifted the waistband of his boxers. He gently nipped at your earlobe as you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock.
You let your head fall backward, allowing him better access to your neck as you moved your hand. Moving your hand up so that you could swipe your thumb over the tip.
You dragged your other hand down, pulling his boxers down so that you could get a good look at what you were working with, and biting your lip at the sight of it. Slowly, you started to pump his impressive length, noting how his breathing patterns changed with your movements.
Dragging a knuckle up the underside of him, he dropped his head to your shoulder as you collected his pre-cum on your index finger on your way up, bringing your hand up to your mouth and licking the droplet off, peering up at him.
“You’re so good at that, baby,” he told you, sighing as he reached up and placed his hand on the side of your neck, skimming his thumb over your jawline as his free hand started to make its way up your dress, pausing when he only met bare skin. “No underwear?” He questioned, furrowing his brow at you as you bit your lip, trying to refrain from pressing into his hand.
Whimpering almost indiscriminately, you shook your head, “Couldn’t, panty lines would show under the dress.”
Spencer hummed in recognition, moving his hand up to cup your sex so that you could feel your own wetness on his hand. A pathetic whine escaped your throat as your walls clenched with need, still stopping yourself from grinding on his hand. “What do you need?” He asked, a teasing lilt in his voice, “Come on, you can tell me.”
“You, please,” you answered, your voice dangerously bordering on pleading. “Your hands, anything,” you squeaked out, breathing heavily as you awaited his next move.
Gently, he slipped a finger inside your wet hole, causing you to release a satisfied sigh. “You’re so wet,” he whispered in your ear as you tilted your head back and pressed your lips to his.
As his hand picked up in pace, so did your breathing. With each movement of his hand, you struggled to keep your volume at a respectable level, small whimpers continued escaping you even as you bit down on the inside of your lip. “Spence,” you whined, moaning aloud as he slipped a second finger into you, “Oh, god.”
The silence of the room around you only exacerbated the wet sounds that were emanating from your sex, and if it didn’t feel so good, you might’ve been embarrassed. In fact, as you felt a familiar coil winding in your abdomen, you found that you didn’t have the capacity to feel anything other than pleasure.
Crying out, you nodded as Spencer continued to thrust his fingers in and out of you, “Fuck,” you said, caring less about your volume levels. Even less so when he responded by pressing the heel of his hand against your clit, the pressure proving to be enough to send you over the edge.
“It’s okay,” Spencer whispered in your ear, “Let it go for me, baby.” His words continued as you felt your walls spasming around his fingers, his ministrations had slowed, but he worked you through your orgasm before withdrawing his fingers and lifting them up to your mouth.
Accepting the invitation, you leaned forward and sucked the sweet juices off of his hand, slipping your tongue between his two fingers as you looked up at him. You half expected him to be watching you with lust-blown eyes, but he was watching you just as attentively as he had when you started this escapade.
He retrieved his fingers from your mouth with a satisfying pop and reached down to ruche the fabric of your dress up around your waist. “Wait,” he said suddenly, gripping the silky cloth, “I don’t have a condom.”
Your eyes widened and you shook your head, “I don’t mind.” Still breathing heavy from your previous orgasm, you shook your head again, “I mean. I’m on birth control – and I’m good at it. I mean I keep up with it.” Now babbling, you hoped he’d say something. “I’m clean. I trust you.”
Nodding in understanding, he placed a hand on the side of your neck and looked at you intently. “I’m not going to do anything until you catch your breath,” he told you, taking up an authoritative tone.
Blinking rapidly, you evened out your breathing as he ran his hand up and down your torso, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, taking another deep breath as you looked up at him.
Spencer shook his head, “Don’t be sorry.” He leaned his head down, pressing soft kisses down the side of your neck as you finally pushed his jacket off of his shoulders. “You’re so pretty,” he murmured, leaning down to grip the backs of your thighs.
“It’s okay if you can’t lift me,” you rambled quickly, getting his attention as you aired your concern.
He raised his eyebrows expectantly, pressing his hips into yours and lifting your feet off of the ground. The leverage that he had, along with the support of the wall behind him, allowed him to get both of your feet off of the ground. You would’ve spent more time being impressed by this feat if you weren’t so distracted by his painfully hard cock that had now slipped between your folds.
Leaning down, you desperately kissed his lips, wanting him to give you those open-mouthed kisses that you had started out with. Instead, you cried out when, without warning, his full length slipped into you.
Placing gentle kisses on your collarbone, Spencer murmured, “Are you okay?” He whispered, seeming like he was using all of his self-control to just stay still.
You nodded, feeling his cock throbbing so deep in you that you were almost afraid you’d come from just that pressure alone. “Been a while,” you murmured, taking a deep, shaky breath.
He hummed in understanding, “I’ve got you, take your time.”
His words filled your stomach with butterflies, and it wasn’t just because he was fully sheathed in you. “Spence,” you whimpered, “Move.”
On your cue, Spencer gave a tentative thrust, permitting your resulting moan to mix with his grunt. “Fuck, baby,” he said, continuing to thrust in and out of your cunt, filling the room with the crude squelching of your actions. “I’m not going to last long,” he informed you.
Throwing your head back in ecstasy, you moaned helplessly when Spencer dropped one of your legs to the ground, hooking his arm underneath your other knee, providing a new, deeper angle. You swore as the sensations started to feel overwhelming.
The new angle gave him more control over his movements, enabling him to use his free hand to pull at your breast through the fabric of your dress. As you tugged gently at his hair, you tilted your head back, “Spence, I- shit,” you cursed, recognizing the tell-tale signs of your second orgasm approaching.
If it weren’t for his words of encouragement, you would’ve been embarrassed by coming too quickly, and if anything, the words only spurred you closer to the finish line. “Come for me,” he said, thrusting harder into you as he tried to reach the same point. “Let me know how good I make you feel,” he said, continuing his thrusts until his hips stuttered.
“Coming,” you whimpered, dropping your head forward onto his shoulder as you felt your walls tightening around his hard length. Crying out as he continued to pound into you, you buried your face into his neck and nipped at the skin to muffle your sounds.
Now he was solely working toward his own orgasm, having given you two of your own. “You’re such a good girl,” he panted.
Suckling gently at the skin on his neck – not hard enough to leave a mark, you littered kisses on his sensitive skin. “Come in me, baby,” you murmured, trying to spur him on.
Your success was apparent as his movements faltered and his cock started throbbing, feeling the pulses of his cum as it filled you, your eyes rolled back at the feeling while Spencer slowed to a halt, waiting for a beat before he pulled out of you entirely.
Shuddering at the emptiness you now felt, you leaned against the wall once both of your feet were on the ground. As your legs trembled, you watched as Spencer crouched to fish something out of his jacket, leaving you with your mixture of fluids running down your legs.
As he grabbed the handkerchief from his breast pocket, you gasped slightly as you realized his intentions. “Spence, you’ll ruin it,” you insisted.
“Would you rather go back out there with my cum dripping down your thighs?” He asked, knelt in front of you with his brows raised in mock innocence.
Swallowing thickly, you shook your head, “Jesus.”
He chuckled, using the handkerchief to wipe up the mess the two of you had made on your legs before carelessly tossing it into a nearby trashcan. Noting the way your legs were still shaking, he lifted your chin ever so slightly, “Are you alright?”
Nodding, you offered him a tired, but genuine smile. “I’m great,” you told him, wiping underneath your eyes where you were sure there was a mess of mascara.
Taking your hand in his, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, Spencer led to toward the French doors that led to the balcony, taking you out into the fresh air.
As you leaned up against the railing, Spencer shook out his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, doing his best to keep you comfortable. “Hey,” you whispered, “I really am fine. Are you? How’s your hand?” In all of the hormones, you had forgotten about his injury.
Spencer nodded, looking over the property that Rossi had rented. “I’m good, Y/N. I feel good.” You wished he’d call you baby again, but maybe that was too much to ask for. His eyebrows furrowed.
“What are you thinking about?” You asked him, recognizing the look from years of working together.
He hummed, reaching up and sweeping a strand of hair off of your forehead. “That guy? The one who told you he’s into someone else? I can confidently say he’s an idiot.”
Flushing, you smiled to yourself at the fact that Spencer was calling himself an idiot, especially when he was anything but. Shrugging, you waved him off anyway, “Nobody’s perfect, Spence.”
“No, I suppose not, but even so…” he told you, allowing his voice to trail off like he wasn’t totally sure what he wanted to say to you. “If he can’t see what’s right in front of him, then maybe you need to turn your attention elsewhere.”
Sighing, you leaned your chin in your hand, “Thanks, but I don’t know. Maybe there is better out there, and I’m just not worth it.” No, after tonight, you’d likely never get over him. It might’ve started as a workplace crush, but you felt in your heart that it was now something deeper.
Spencer shook his head, “Now, that’s where we disagree.”
“Spencer, I can’t-“ Your voice is cut off when you hear someone calling your name from inside the building, smoothing out the front of your dress one more time, you step back into the room, coming face to face with JJ.
She smiles in recognition of you, but the grin immediately fades from her face when Spencer walks out behind you, “Hey, we’ve been looking for you guys,” she said flatly. “They’re about to cut the cake.”
Nodding, you took another quick look at Spencer before following the blonde out of the room, leaving your secret in the room behind you.
#criminal minds#spencer reid#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#criminal minds smut#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#dr spencer reid#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid imagine#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds oneshot#written by margot#mdni#margot after hours#softdom!spencer#criminal minds angst#spencer reid angst
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Jihan training Jioh how to be a businessman
↣ Wedding Impossible 웨딩 임파서블 (2024)
#wedding impossible#moon sang min#kdrama#kdramaedit#cinemapix#filmtv#cinemu#tvedit#useryd#dailyasiandramas#dailyflicks#chewieblog#weddingimpossibleedit#kalenapost#kalenaedit#they are so cute together#just training his future protege#so happy i found something i had to gif myself
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The Olive Theory
Luke Castellan x Reader
word count: 641
summary: Strawberries are your favorite thing in the whole world, luckily for you Luke seems to “hate them”
a/n: based on the olive theory from himym
@repostingmyfavs
There are two things you truly love in this world: Luke and Strawberries.
You often find yourself helping the Demeter and Dionysus kids in the strawberry fields, despite your actual job being at the infirmary. Miranda often scolded you for taking strawberries for yourself during the day, you didn’t mind though. The sweet yet tart berry was worth it.
Your obsession with the fruit grew even further. You begged the dryads for extra portions during dinner, pairing them with yogurt and melted chocolate. Your least favorite part was having to sacrifice the berry to your godly father. You debated giving something else to him but everyone at camp and above knew your love for them, there was no running from it.
Luke was well aware of your passion for strawberries. Going as far as joking that you love them more than him. You both aren’t quite sure if it’s a joke or not.
You sit at a picnic table near the Hermes cabin with luke. You had just sat down with Percy and three shortcakes for each of you. Luke leans over and presses a soft kiss against your temple as you sit down. Percy notices that you can barely acknowledge it since your focus is on the cake.
Both Luke and Percy stare at you in wonder as you eye the desert, they can’t seem to figure out why you haven’t eaten it yet. Impatient, you look over and luke with a wanting gaze.
“Oh- right,” he says understandingly.
Percy is clearly confused by the seemingly telepathic communication. His eyes dart between you and Luke, your gaze once again set on your plate. Luke picks off the strawberries from his cake and places them on your plate. As soon as the first two strawberries are there you start devouring the cake like a ravenous hyena. Percy starts to wonder if you’re even chewing. Luke starts to eat some of his until he stops halfway. He puts the remaining piece of cake on your plate for you. You eat it immediately as if it was there the whole time.
“Are you gonna have that?” You ask politely, eyeing a large, red strawberry on Percy’s plate.
His eyes shift down to where your gaze is settled, “No, go ahead.”
You smile and take it with your fork, biting into it quickly. Percy’s eyes shift back to Luke, who’s been staring at you since the moment you sat down. His face held a small smile as he admired you. You smiled as you licked the whipped cream off your fork.
“I think I'm gonna get another slice!” You exclaim happily, standing up and nearly skipping to where the dryads are.
Luke watches as you leave, eyes falling on your figure.
“I never realized she liked strawberries that much,” Percy said.
“Yeah, I'm kinda surprised she hasn’t turned into one yet,” he laughs quietly.
“I assume you don’t like them that much? I mean- you gave her all of yours and half of the cake,” Percy explains.
“Strawberries? no way, they’re great. But she loves them so much, and I'd do anything to make her happy,” Luke smiles as he nibbles on the remains of one of your eaten berries.
You come back with a widest smile on your face. You hold another cake alongside a cup of strawberries. You sit down, happily eating more of the cake and strawberries.
“Isn’t it so great that Luke doesn’t like them? I get them all to myself!” You say, beaming.
“Yeah,,, perfect,” Percy says slowly, remembering the new found information.
“Mhm; I’d give my girl all the strawberries in the world if I could,” Luke mumbles.
Luke has a single mission in life, making you happy. Even if that means giving up his favorite fruit for you. Your smile is worth much more than a simple strawberry.
#pjo series#luke castellan#luke pjo#luke castellan x reader#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson#luke castellan x you#luke pjo x reader#pjo x reader#pjo x you#pjo tv show#percy jackson x reader
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 1 - The Introduction
Summary: Captain Price has been fighting the requests to add an omega to his team until those requests become commands. You find yourself traveling half a world away to join a pack of highly trained soldiers to balance out their dynamic. Not all of them are quite so happy about your arrival, but you're a good omega who does as you're told.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, brief moments of panic on the reader's side, scenting, military inaccuracies, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.
Author's Note: I couldn't help it and I've found myself falling into the Call of Duty brainrot once again so here I am to bless you with some poly 141 a/b/o goodness. It's just part 1, I promise things will get better as the story goes along.
MASTERLIST | Next ->
“I don’t like this.”
“Believe me, John, I know. But the higher ups are putting a lot of pressure on us with this initiative and I’ve pushed back as much as I can. They’re convinced it will be good for morale and team dynamics.”
He wants to protest, but he’s been protesting this idea for three months. “What more can you tell me about her?”
“Not much that isn’t already in her file.” Her tone is not lost on him. She can, but that’s not a conversation to be held over the phone. “She’s quiet and polite, a bit jumpy but she relaxes once she gets to know you. Remember, I picked her out myself.”
That doesn’t make him feel any better.
He flips through the file again after he hangs up with Laswell. He almost has it memorized by now, having looked through time and time again since the letter was dropped on his desk three months ago.
He stares at the photo, the headshot taken by the institute in her file. She’s cute, as most omegas are. American, but she had grown up on military bases. At least this world wasn’t entirely unfamiliar to her. He grimaces as he looks over her DOB below the photo. She’s young, younger than he would have liked, but at least she was old enough to drink.
He sighs through his nose as he flips through her records. She’s been in the institute for nearly ten years, likely sent as soon as she presented. He flips through page after page of test results, notes from her instructors, personality and temperament analysis, essays and essays worth of information written on her and also by her. He didn’t care so much about what her instructors thought, he was more interested in her.
“Christ.” He breathes as he pauses on the page with her statistics, rubbing his eyes. The file has everything in it, down to heat tracking and her early signs it was starting.
As if he doesn’t have enough to worry about, now he’s going to have an omega under his care.
He hasn’t considered taking an omega in well over a decade. Back when he had been young and reckless, he had once considered starting his own pack, but then his career in the military began to take off and he let that dream go. It became too dangerous, and he had seen many times what happened to omegas who were left behind during deployments for too long.
His team didn’t need an omega. He had briefly considered it in the beginning as they adjusted to the new dynamics, but he knew it was too dangerous and their schedules were far too unpredictable for the sort of stability omegas needed. He had fought time and time again against the push to add an omega to the team. They had settled into their roles easily, and operated perfectly fine with the missing dynamic.
Then the Omega Initiative was born and he found himself with no grounds to refuse anymore. Task Force 141 was getting an omega whether they wanted one or not.
He can’t help the tickle in the back of his mind that something else might be going on. He flips back to the first page, staring at the omega’s photo. They’d be here in a week. She’d be flying with Laswell to London where she’d be given a few days to adjust before they’d fly in here and she’ll be left with her new pack.
Price closes the file, leaning back in his chair. He has a lot to do in the next week.
You stare down at the files laid out on the table. Four of them, hardly more than a single page each, most of which was blacked out. They’re all older than you, their birth years at least visible to you. Most of the things on the file you don’t understand, and you weren't even sure how tall they were since you can’t convert meters to feet in your head.
You’re tired and on edge, nervous about tomorrow when you'd meet your new pack. You sit back in your seat, letting out a long breath.
“I know.” Station Chief Laswell, Kate as you had been told to call her, takes the seat across from you. “You’re going to have to get used to hearing the word classified. What they tell you about themselves is, of course, up to them, but the things they do, the places they go, even with your security clearance as high as it is, that will all still be-”
“Classified?” You finish for her.
Kate smiles. “Exactly. It’s mostly for your safety. The less you know...”
The less there is to make you a target.
You’d been given that speech before you left D.C. You’d been given a lot of briefings, as Kate had called them, since you had been pulled into the director’s office at The Institute and told to pack your bag. You remembered Kate and the interview you had done a few days prior. It hadn’t been any different than the other interviews you’d done before, except that you were chosen this time.
What had come after was three months of intense briefings and training, for what, you hadn’t really known at the time. They had told you little, at least until last week when Kate pulled you into her office and told you what was happening and why it was happening and where you were going.
“You don’t have anything to worry about, though.” Kate continues, something you’ve been told over and over again during your briefings. “They’re all good men. John and I know each other well. I wouldn’t have picked you if I didn’t think you could handle them.”
You continue to stare at the files. Two alphas, two betas. It wasn’t an unusual pack, evenly balanced, except for the missing omega. If the situation were different they may have elected to have two omegas to keep the even balance. This wasn’t a normal situation, though. This was a military pack, special forces at that. It wasn’t unusual for packs to form on bases, especially those stationed together for long periods of time. Alphas and betas united together with one purpose, one collective goal.
That was why so many alphas were drawn to the military.
That, and the excuse for violence.
Omegas weren’t allowed to enlist, omegas weren’t allowed to hold many jobs at all. It was usually only in special circumstances, and even then, they were more likely to be assigned into a pack than be allowed to work and care for themselves. In a lot of ways you were lucky. You wouldn’t have to fight to find a pack, fight to find a match, fight for one of the few decent alphas left in the world. Your road had been chosen for you as soon as you presented.
In a lot of ways, though, things were worse for you.
“How do you feel?” Kate asks, looking you over. You’ve grown to like the beta Station Chief in the weeks you’ve spent together.
“Tired.” You run a hand across your face.
“The time difference will do that to you.” Kate says, giving you a sympathetic look. “Not to mention everything else.” Kate stands, stacking the files and pushing them to the center of the table. “I have a couple more errands to run, so get some rest. I’ll pick us up some dinner on the way back.”
You look nervous.
He can’t blame you. He’d felt a bit of a nervous twist to his stomach this morning as he’d finished ensuring everything was in place. He doesn’t often get nervous anymore, years and years of experience giving him the ability to expect anything and react accordingly.
This is different, though. This isn’t a soldier he’s greeting, this is an omega.
His omega.
As Pack Alpha he had more of a claim to you than anyone else. It was his mark you’d wear, his scent that everyone would notice first. It was his duty to protect you, to ensure you have everything you need. You’re not another member of his team, you’re not even a soldier. You’re just a poor civilian that’s been thrust into this world of danger and secrecy.
“Captain Price.” Laswell greets him, shaking his hand.
He greets her back, but he can’t help his gaze as it flickers to the omega. You’re small, as expected of an omega. Your sweatshirt hides most of your curves, but your jeans hug your full thighs. Most omegas are small and soft, designed to be held and healthy enough to bear children when cared for correctly.
He doesn’t even want to think about that.
Laswell introduces you, your feet shuffling a bit as you step forward toward him. Coming from an institute, you likely hadn’t had much contact with alphas before now. You try to stand taller, look braver as you stand before him, but he can smell the tangy edge of anxiety surrounding your scent.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” You say, shaking his hand. It’s small and warm in his, your skin soft and slightly clammy.
“The pleasure is mine.” He says, releasing your hand.
You let it drop to your side, pulling your sleeve down over your fingers. You shift on your feet, your body language betraying your nervousness. Hunched shoulders, fingers tugging your sleeves over your hands, shifting your weight foot to foot as if you might take off running at a moment’s notice. Your eyes dart across the airfield taking in the movement around them. You’re on edge, alert, and likely a little overwhelmed.
“I’ll show you around and let you get settled.” He says, his eyes shifting to Laswell. “You and I have some things to discuss.”
You follow behind him with Laswell as he leads you towards the building that served as the 141’s home base. He points out different places you might find yourself visiting. The gym, the rec area, the mess hall, and finally their barracks. He leads you down the hallway where their rooms were located, pointing out each door before he gets to yours, sandwiched between his own and Gaz’s, with Soap and Ghost on the other side.
He opens the door, letting you enter. He stays in the doorway, letting you explore the small space. Your bags had been brought in, the faint hint of the beta Corporal that had brought them in still lingering in the air. There’s four shirts folded neatly on the desk, one from each of them that they’d slept in for the last couple days to give you a chance to get used to their scents.
“The lads are still running a simulation, but they’ll be done within the hour.” He says, drawing your gaze from the bed. “We’ll let you get settled in and I’ll come get you when they’re ready.”
“Thank you, sir.” You say.
Laswell steps in as he steps away for a moment, letting the two of you say your goodbyes. You’d likely see Laswell again, and soon, but he knows after three months you’ll have bonded with her just a bit.
Price leads Laswell to his office after she leaves your room, his ears picking up the sound of the lock clicking into place as they walk away. He’d left it on for a reason, wanting to give you the ability to feel safe and secure as you adjusted, even though you had nothing to worry about.
“So.” Price says as he sits behind his desk, reclining back in his seat. “What can you really tell me about her?”
Laswell gives him a knowing look. “The CIA has had their eyes on her for years now. The Omega Initiative as it is now, isn’t how it started. They were going to train omegas as agents, and she was one of the first names on that list. They had FIOT put a hold on her file once she came of age.”
Federal Institute of Omega Training. The name was stamped on the front of your file. It was the highest rated institute in America, the place where most omegas born to politicians, government workers, and some military went.
“They had agents go in and pretend to be interested parties just to make it seem like there was interest in her.” Laswell continues. “But, you know omegas aren’t cut out for this kind of work, so they changed the Initiative. She was still at the top of the list, but there were some...hesitations as to where to place her.”
“What sort of hesitations?” He asks.
“You saw those scores, John. She’s a good omega. Those purebred instincts are strong, and that makes her an easy target.”
Most omegas born from an alpha/omega pairing were good at listening to their instincts. That was why they carried such a high standing, even among omegas. But, being so closely intune with their instincts made them more sensitive, more vulnerable. They were more likely to give in to an alpha, if the alpha knew how to play them right.
Laswell pulls a file from her bag, sliding it across his desk to him. “She’d get walked all over in a larger pack, and the last thing she needs is to get hurt by an overbearing alpha.” There’s something hidden in Laswell’s words, his mind filing that away for later. “I need someone I can trust with her. She’s smart, learns fast. She needs a challenge, but also someone that won’t take advantage of her.”
“It sounds like you’ve grown rather fond of her.” He says, flipping open the first page of the file. It’s the CIA’s data on her, everything they’d done in the last three months to prepare her for her life as a Special Operations pack omega.
“Like I said, I’m the one that picked her for your team.” Laswell leans forward against his desk. “She knows what she’s in for. She was well prepared for this kind of life. She’ll let you mark her, no questions asked because that’s what she’s been told to do. She’s obedient, John, almost to a fault.”
“That could be dangerous.” Price says.
“Yes, it could.” Laswell says. “I’m leaving her in your capable hands. She has my number, and so do you.”
Price walks her back to the airfield, his head reeling a bit as he replays their conversation over and over. The hidden messages in Laswell’s words aren’t lost on him, and his gut feeling that something else was going on had been correct.
“Take care of her, John.” Laswell says. “I’m putting a lot of trust in you.”
He hasn’t failed her yet.
Your body is tingling. You’re not sure if it’s nerves or something else. You haven’t been around an alpha since the day of your presentation, when you had been pulled from your home and taken to the institute. You had nearly wanted to keel over when you came face to face with Captain Price. Your alpha. He’s a commanding presence, the tickling at the back of your neck still not quite gone even though the door is shut and locked.
The bed is comfortable, not any worse than what you slept on in the institute. There’s extra pillows and blankets stacked at the end, likely for your nest when you finally settled enough to make one. The door to the private bathroom is cracked open, facing the end of the bed. There’s four shirts on the desk next under the window next to the bathroom door, and your bags are sitting in front of the dresser and closet situated on the opposite wall from the bed.
You push yourself to stand, ignoring the way your legs wobble as you stare down at the four shirts on the desk. They’re all olive green, folded neatly in the exact same way. You wouldn’t have known any different, except for the scents gently wafting from them, and the names on the tags.
Price. You pick up the one that will be the most familiar, bringing it to your nose. Tobacco smoke, aftershave, something sharp like whiskey. All things you had scented on him in your short time together. Underneath you catch a whiff of his natural scent. Something woody, fresh. A tingle crawls up your spine, prickling in the back of your neck again. You drop the shirt on the desk, taking a step back to breathe in the unscented air for a moment.
You’re breathing heavily as you go for the shirt next to Price’s. Garrick. You press the shirt against your nose, inhaling. Aftershave, different from Price’s. Some kind of lotion. Coconut oil maybe? You can’t pick up more than the base scent of beta, the soothing almondy scent.
You take another deep inhale of it, letting the beta scent ease you before you let it drop to the desk beside Price’s. You grab the one next to it, looking at the tag. MacTavish. You lift it to your face, scenting another aftershave. There’s something citrusy mixed in as well, slightly watered down compared to the scent of the aftershave. Again, you can’t pick up more than the scent of beta, letting it ease the tickling on the back of your neck again before you let it drop back on the desk.
One more to go.
You pick up the last shirt. Ghost. The faceless one. You bring the shirt to your nose, wincing slightly at the sharp tang of gunpowder and metal, smoke and a lingering aftershave. You try to smell deeper, but your nose burns with scent blocker spray. You let out a huff, dropping it back onto the desk.
This Ghost was dedicated to his anonymity.
He’s going to be a problem.
You sink back onto the bed, eyeing the shirts. Your senses have heightened, picking up the scents wafting off of them, mixing in the air. You pick up the sound of boots approaching, three pairs of feet making their way down the hall. You can hear them talking and laughing as they approach. There’s a pause outside your door and you hold your breath, sitting as still as possible.
Of course they can smell you. You had sprayed yourself down with scent blockers before you left the hotel, but it had likely worn off by now. Even with the blocker, the scent of unmated omega wasn’t hidden easily. The entire base had probably caught a whiff of your scent by now. Caramel, vanilla, strawberries with the undertone of pure omega that made alphas go insane.
“Coming, Si?”
Your lungs burn as you hold your breath, and for a moment you’re afraid your heartbeat might be audible from how hard it’s pounding. Steps recede from your door and you don’t breathe until they’ve disappeared.
You decide to unpack to keep your mind busy as you wait. You don’t have much, mostly clothes from the institute and toiletries. You don’t even have a photo of your family, that part of your life behind you. You put your clothes away, venturing into the small bathroom to put away your toiletries. There’s towels already inside, along with a few things like shampoo and soap. They’re all scentless, like the things you had brought from the institute.
Nothing that could dampen your natural scent.
You almost don’t hear the knock on the door, lost in your own thoughts. You take a steadying breath, hand hesitating over the lock. What if it wasn’t Price? What if it wasn’t anyone from your new pack?
“Just me.” Price’s voice comes through the door.
Of course he would notice your hesitation. He’s a trained soldier, he’s always going to be aware of his surroundings. You unlock the door, opening it slowly.
Price greets you with a small smile, your nose picking up the scent of his aftershave and the lingering scent of tobacco smoke now that you’re attune to it. “They’re ready, if you are.” He says.
You nod. “Yeah, I guess.” It wasn’t like you had much of a choice to say no.
You slip out the door, closing it behind you. You’d ditched your sweatshirt, wearing a scoop-necked shirt to give them easy access for the scenting. Price leads you down the hallway, back towards his office. You’re not quite sure what to expect, the nervous twisting in your stomach coming back.
“I thought we’d do it in a meeting room.” Price says, likely picking up on the change in your scent. “Somewhere neutral.”
It’s smart, it’ll keep you from getting too overwhelmed by other scents or sounds. The last thing you need to do is panic and send them all into a spiral. Talk about a first impression.
Price pauses outside a door, looking down at you. His gaze is kind, almost sympathetic as you take a deep breath. “Ready?”
Not really, but you wouldn’t dare say that. You have to do this, and the sooner you got the awkward part over with, the easier things will get. You nod, hands tugging nervously at the bottom of your shirt. “Yes, sir.”
Price opens the door, stepping in first. You’re glad for the few moments you’re hidden behind him as the scents in the room slam into you. Alpha and two betas, scents you recognize from their shirts. They stand as Price enters, and for a moment you want to stay hidden behind the alpha but you know you have to be brave. You were made for this. The words drilled into your brain over and over again at the institute flash through your brain. You have one job in life and this is it.
You can hold power over them.
The words from the book your bunkmate had smuggled in flash through your mind. “The Powerful Omega”, it had been titled. Authored by a progressive omega, it talked all about how powerful omegas could be, even those forced into traditional roles. You can get them all wrapped around your finger if you wanted to.
You steady your nerves, clenching your hands into fists at your sides and step out from behind Price. Your skin prickles as three sets of eyes are set on you. Price is speaking but you’re not really listening as you take them in. You recognize the two betas from their files.
Gaz, you pick up Price doing introductions, has kind eyes. He’s tall for a beta, almost the same height as Price. He waves to you, offering you a small smile.
Soap is the shortest of the four, more what you would expect from a beta. “Good to meet ya, lass.” He greets you, giving you a charming smile. He’s going to push your boundaries, you can tell.
You’re beginning to see the dynamics already.
“And Ghost.” Price says, your eyes finally moving to the place you’ve been avoiding since you walked in.
All hulking muscle, Ghost seems to take up the entire room. Your heart flutters nervously as you meet his dark gaze, his face hidden by a balaclava with a skull painted on the front. His presence is oppressive, tickling the back of your neck. You’re not sure if you want to run or submit to him, every inch of him screaming alpha.
Price’s hand on your back nearly makes you jump, your gaze finally drawing away from Ghost and back to him. “Come on, take a seat. Tell us about yourself.”
Price sits at the head of the table, Ghost, Soap and Gaz to his left. You take the seat on the right, staring at the other three members of your pack. You jump into your spiel, things that they already knew if they’d read your file. There’s not much else to tell, since everything about you was in that file. That was its purpose, to make you look as appealing as possible to potential alphas and packs.
“What about your family?” Soap asks, the sharp scent of your nervous energy spiking for a moment. “Do you still talk to them?”
You shake your head. “Not for a few years. Institutes don’t really encourage keeping ties with previous packs, but I know there were a few omegas that did. It was hard to keep track of where my family was.”
“Your father was a Marine, correct?” Price, even though they already know the answer.
You nod. “Yes, sir.”
“You lived on base?” He asks.
You nod again. “Yes, sir. We moved a lot, but we lived in pack housing on every base. We were a family pack, and I was number four of eight by the time I presented.”
“When did you get sent to the Institute?” He asks, almost regretting answering it.
It’s a sore subject, he can tell by the change in your face and the slight souring of your scent. “The day after I presented.” You say.
The tension in the room is palpable, Soap and Gaz’s eyes widening in shock as Ghost's shoulders tense just slightly. Price stares at you with a sympathetic look in his eyes. He knew it was likely shortly after, but that soon? Most would wait until the presentation had finished at least, and usually there was some downtime when it came to getting into an institute as well.
“My father was a traditionalist alpha.” You say, something they also knew by your status. It was printed all over your file, squeezed in every place it could be as a reminder of your worth to whomever was reading it. “It was because we were already on base that they got to me so fast.” You explain. “It was my dad’s status in the Marines that got me into FIOT.”
“What was it like, in the institute?” Gaz asks, wanting to change the subject a bit, if only to ease the sourness in your scent.
You huff out a laugh, the corner of your lips lifting in a smile. “Not unlike the military, I think. We had strict schedules we stuck to every day. Everything was dictated for us, what we wore, what we learned, what we did with our free time and how often we got it. Even what we ate was chosen for us. We always had to be ready to be tested at any time, and we were always being observed.”
“Your test scores were high.” Price remarks.
You shrug. “I’m a perfect omega, or so my instructors always said. It comes easily to me. I don’t really have to think much about it.”
“Did you really kneel for two hours straight?” Gaz asks.
You huff out a laugh. “Yeah. There was one day...it was a couple years ago. I don’t know what caused it but there was something in the air. We were all on edge and worked up. The director got tired of us and made us all kneel in the mess hall during our two hour afternoon break. No cushions, no pillows. Just all forty of us, kneeling on the marble floor for two hours. Not everyone could do it. Quite a few got too fidgety, couldn’t handle the pain. Three even passed out.”
“How did you manage it?” Gaz asks.
Price wasn’t a fan of using instinctual habits as punishment. It left a bad taste in his mouth, and he can only imagine what else you could say they forced you to do with such nonchalance.
“To be honest, I don’t remember most of it. I just let my mind go somewhere else and before I knew it the time was up.” You shrug.
“We won’t make you kneel for two hours.” Price says. “And definitely not without a pillow.”
You smile softly. “Thank you, sir.”
Price watches you, the way your eyes dart around the room again, the sour edge of your scent gone, but the tang of anxiety remains. You’ve relaxed some, though, your shoulders are not quite so tense and you’ve stopped picking at your nails.
Ghost has remained silent the entire time you’ve spoken, eyes glued on you. You’ve tried not to look at him, finding your words get stuck in your throat whenever you meet his gaze.
He’s going to be a problem.
“There’s some rules we need to go over before anything else.” Price says. “You have freedom to roam this building as you please, but one of us will escort you if you need to go elsewhere at least until you’ve been marked. There’s other alphas on this base and I don’t want them getting any ideas.”
You knew well enough omegas frequented the barracks on bases often. You don’t want to be mistaken as one. Even with their scents on you, you know that won’t stop some. You’re not even sure a mark will stop them either.
“I want full transparency. If something happens you come to me, or you call Kate if we’re gone. If you need anything too, the same order stands.” You’re beginning to detect the edge to his voice, The Captain slipping through his more casual demeanor. “We have some downtime to adjust for now, but sometimes we may leave for weeks at a time. It will be rough, I won’t lie to you, but Kate pulled some strings and there’s an Omega Specialist that’s been brought in for you. You’ll meet her later, I’m sure she wants to do a full workup.”
You’ve met many Omega Specialists in your time. The beta medical professionals that go through specialized training so they can assist and treat omegas better than regular doctors and medics. Most of them go through a residency at Institutes, studying and practicing on young omegas. The thought of having at least someone who might understand you on a deeper level is comforting.
“I’m starving, let’s get the scenting over with.” Soap nearly whines, rubbing his stomach.
His words strike a chord of nervous energy in you again. You had been prepared many times for the scenting. You’d seen instructional videos and done mock practices with your fellow omegas. Yet you feel like it’s not going to be enough. These were real alphas and betas, your pack. What if you don’t like the way they smell?
What if they don’t like the way you smell?
“If you’re alright with it?” Price says, looking at you.
You’re taken aback by the offer for consent. You weren’t expecting it, as this was something you have to do. What would happen if you said no? Would they respect your boundaries? The fact you had been asked at all is shocking to you. You won’t say no, because you’ll have to do it eventually, and at least this way you’ll be walking around smelling like them. If nothing else, it might make this transition a bit easier.
“Yeah.” You nod, swallowing down your nerves. “I’m okay with it.”
All five of you stand from the table, your stomach churning with nervous energy. You try to clear your head, try to calm yourself so you don’t stink them out with your anxiety. You need your scent to be clear, to be as tantalizing as possible.
“Don’t look so worried, lass.” Soap says as they gather around you. “We won’t bite.” He winks at you playfully.
Your cheeks warm as Price steps up to you. He is right, that would come later. Likely during your first heat when Price would give you his mark and claim you as his. It wasn’t unusual for packs with multiple alphas to let more than one claim an omega, but judging from what you’ve seen of Ghost, you’re not sure that’s going to happen.
He had a right to claim you too, but from the look of it, he was the least excited about your joining their pack.
You tense as Price’s hands settle on your waist, lifting you up so you’re seated on the edge of the table, putting you closer to being eye-to-eye with them. They’re all so big, the natural consequence of genetics and their jobs.
“Ready?”
You turn to look up at Price, close enough you can see the freckles on his nose and the grey in his blue eyes. You nod, pressing your hands into the table as you bare your neck for him. Your heart is fluttering in your chest as he leans in closer, pressing his face against your neck. His beard tickles your skin as he rubs his face against your scent gland, warm breaths fanning against your skin.
He pulls away just slightly, baring his own neck to you. You press forward, gripping the edge of the table as you press your face against his throat. You catch the scents you had picked up on his shirt in your room, the surface level scents that were environmental. You close your eyes, inhaling deeper. Woody. Pine? Spruce? It reminds you of a candle your mother used to burn. There’s another scent, the one that lingers. Petrichor, you think, rubbing your face against his scent gland.
His hand on your side pulls you back from your scent-induced haze, and you force yourself back from him. You take deep breaths of the sterile air in the meeting room, picking up his scent more clearly now as it mixes with the others.
“Good girl.” He says, squeezing your side gently. Something flutters in your stomach at his praise, some deep primal part of your brain preening at the thought of making your alpha proud. “Ghost.” He says, stepping back from you.
You’re snapped back into reality as the hulking alpha steps up towards you, moving almost silently. You try to keep yourself calm as he stalks towards you, his sharp gaze burning into yours.
He’s testing you.
You won’t satisfy him, holding his gaze as he reaches you, his thighs pressing against your knees. One hand comes to rest next to your hip on the table, his body leaning in towards you. You’re enveloped by the black fabric of his sweatshirt as his other hand reaches up to tug his balaclava up. Stubble tickles your skin as he presses his face against your throat, breathing in deeply. He lets out a quiet sound as he scents you, almost akin to a growl.
He shifts his weight, pressing his uncovered scent gland against your face. You close your eyes, inhaling deeply. Gunpowder and metal stings your nose again, along with the scent of his body wash. You press deeper into his throat, seeking out his natural scent. Something deep and musky washes over you, like suede or leather. There’s something fresh in there too, almost like eucalyptus. You press your face closer, inhaling it deeply. Your head spins, and you’re sure your knees would have given out if you hadn’t been sitting.
Something rumbles in Ghost's chest as you scent him in a daze. While all alphas’ scents carried a natural musk, Ghosts seems to shoot directly to some deep part of your brain even Price’s scent hadn’t reached.
You let out a quiet whine as he’s pulled from you, his mask back in place by the time you pry your eyes open. Ghost is leaning back against the wall, eyes back to their icy stare as he watches you. Your head is still spinning as someone steps up next to you, taking Ghost’s place.
“How ya doing?” Gaz asks, eyes assessing you. “Hanging in there?”
You nod, taking a couple deep breaths to try and clear your head.
“You’re halfway there.” He says, leaning in closer. “Got through the hard part.”
His breath fans your neck as he leans in, the familiar scent of beta flooding your senses. He was likely doing it on purpose, trying to calm you after the intensity of being scented by two alphas. You breathe in the almondy scent, relaxing into him as he scents you. Your hands raise, gripping his shoulders as he presses his neck close to your face. You seek out the source of the calming scent, pressing your nose into his scent gland.
You’re drawn from the room and to the time your family took a trip to the beach when your father was stationed in North Carolina. Salty sea air, briney and clean, and something else, something soft. Like the clean linen scented spray your mother used on the laundry. You’re clinging to him, his arms around you as you relax into his scent. The tingling energy that had begun to build up at the proximity to the alphas fades as you melt into the calming energy of the beta in front of you.
“Easy.” He says, his hand on the back of your head as he pulls you away from him. You take a deep breath, trying to clear your head. “Still with us?” He asks, meeting your gaze.
“Yeah.” You say, sounding breathless. You knew scenting could be intense, but you hadn’t expected it to feel quite like this.
“Almost done, hen.” Soap says, taking Gaz’s place in front of you. “Lucky there’s only four of us.”
He’s right, you think as you bear your throat for him. You’re not sure you could have handled it had there been more of them. You already feel like you’re floating, enveloped in so many scents you’re not sure what to do. That tingling has begun at the back of your neck as Soap scents you, your eyes meeting Ghost’s. The look in them has changed, his body poised like he’s ready to strike at a moment’s notice.
Soap pulls back, blocking your view of him as he bears his throat to you. You press your face into his neck, pushing past the scents you knew, and that beta scent, looking for him.
You inhale deeply, the scent of warm spices invading your nose. It smells like the holidays, cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger enveloping you. You can almost taste the apple pie, see the gingerbread houses. You cling to his shirt, holding him against you as you rub your face against his throat.
You’re trembling just slightly as Soap withdraws from your hold. It’s subtle, but to them, highly aware soldiers, it’s likely clear as day. Your skin is buzzing, like the fluorescent lights above you. You can hear it now, the buzz of electricity. Your pupils are blown, the room suddenly clearer and sharper.
“There she is.” The low grumble of Price’s voice begins to pull you from your heightened state, your eyes turning to him as his hand cups your cheek.
You press into the rough palm of his hand, eyes picking up the grey in his beard and hair as he stands in front of you. He’s older than you, they’re all older than you. Older than you, bigger than you, stronger than you. A small tickle of fear begins to itch in the back of your mind, drawing you from your daze.
You’re vulnerable, entirely vulnerable and incapable of defending yourself against them. Forgetting second genders, they’re all much stronger than you, not to mention trained fighters. You’d be fucked if they decided to try anything, if they wanted to do anything. You’d be entirely helpless against them.
They could if they wanted to.
It would be well within their rights. Even though you had just met, even though you bore no claiming mark, there was nothing stopping them. You couldn’t stop them, and no one would help you.
“You hungry, pup?”
Price’s voice cuts through your fearful daze. There’s a slight furrow to his brow, likely picking up the sharp edge seeping into your scent. Omega fear and distress was the one defense nature gave to your kind, aside from the omega itself. It’s a putrid scent meant to ward off alphas and betas. You’ve heard it described as smelling like sulfur, burning coals, gasoline, melting plastic, and sometimes even the ozonic scent that accompanied alphas in a true rage. It was a warning, but it doesn't always work.
Pup. Price called you Pup.
You haven’t been called “pup” since you were a pup. It’s a commonly used nickname for any status. You remember your father calling your older brothers pup, even after they presented. It could be derogatory, but it’s more commonly used affectionately. He’s trying to ease your discomfort, the fear welling up inside you.
The door is open, the fresh air of the hallway watering down the heavy mix of scents that had become trapped in the room. Soap and Gaz have already stepped out, Ghosts hulking figure blocking the doorway for a moment as he follows them, leaving you alone with Price for a moment.
“Alright?” Price asks as your gaze meets his again.
You nod, still leaning into his touch. “Yeah, ‘s a lot.”
“I know.” His thumb strokes your cheek, a knowing glint in his eyes. He leans in closer, lowering his voice. “Don’t tell him I told you this, but Soap nearly passed out when we scented him.”
You cover your mouth to stifle your giggle. It wasn’t unusual for scentings to become so intense that the receiver passes out. You’re sure if there had been more than four in your new pack you would have passed out.
“Come on.” He says, wrapping an arm around your waist to lift you off the table and onto unsteady legs. He doesn’t even grunt with the effort, moving you easily. The thought sends a shiver down your spine, but it’s not entirely one of fear.
His hand is warm on your back as he leads you out of the room, the clean air in the hallway clearing your head further. Most bases have circulating air systems, constantly filtering out scents to keep things as neutral as possible. They’re less effective in smaller areas though, especially after scents were intentionally projected. Most military members wore scent blockers, at least while performing their duties. You remember your father coming home at the end of the day with the dull burn of scent blocker still on his clothes.
Your head is still spinning a bit as you follow them out of the barracks and towards the mess hall. They seem to almost walk in a formation, though you suppose with years of having it drilled in your head, it’s almost second nature. You’re sandwiched between Soap and Gaz in the middle, Price in front and Ghost bringing up the rear.
The other personnel on the base give your group a wide berth, and even in the mess you can feel the glances, but none of the stares linger. Price guides you next to him as you get your food, adding things to your tray for you. That tickling feeling starts again at the back of your neck as he makes your plate, your omega preening happily at the knowledge of what he’s doing.
He’s proving his ability as a provider.
In more primordial times he might have gone out and hunted for food to bring back to you to prove his capabilities. Even in more modern times, he might have hunted as some alphas still did, or he would have gone to the store to keep the fridge stocked full of food. Alphas are good at adapting to their surroundings and situations. He’s proving his capabilities in the way he can.
You’re also silently grateful to not have to think too hard about the choices in front of you. Even after a week, British food is still a bit unfamiliar to you. It’s not entirely indiscernible, though, and you’re sure you could pick out things that sounded good if you had to. At this moment, though, with your head still reeling a bit and the unsettling energy of a new place filled with unknown alphas and betas, you’re happy to let Price do it for you.
He carries your tray and his to a table, sitting you next to him. Gaz takes your other side, Soap and Ghost sitting across from you. The choices in their seating arrangement don’t feel quite so random to you, and you quickly realize the arrangement is similar to the room setup in the barracks.
A beta for each alpha, you think. Gaz and Price. Soap and Ghost.
Then there’s you, stuck somewhere in the middle of them. Somehow you’ll fit between them, squeezing into their perfect dynamic. Omegas are supposed to help balance packs, but as you sit with the four members of your new pack, you can’t help but feel like you’re only going to make things more difficult.
I'm willing to put together a taglist if people are interested...
#call of duty#call of duty fanfic#141 x reader#task force 141#task force 141 x reader#cod x reader#captain price x reader#john price x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#gaz x reader#kyle garrick x reader#soap x reader#soap mactavish x reader#john mactavish x reader#a/b/o
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Servant who is in love with Sukuna and he finally gives her a "taste" of himself, but then she cums quickly and without permission and gets punished to overstimulation 😭 drabble or fic I'd be very happy either way
❤︎ ໋𓈒 sukuna punishing his favorite servant
warnings. fem! reader, size kink, spit, cowgirl, impact play, degredation, mdni.
“hmph. woman. come here,” he’d say in a gruff voice, two simple words and he had you at your very mercy. as you trod your feet towards him, the last thing you expected was for sukuna to give you a kiss. the kiss was passionate with such roughness attached to it, you moaned before feeling the king’s hand wrap around your throat. he was always so handsy too, especially with you. sukuna was merely fooling around, yet as for you, you were deeply in love with him.
stupid, perhaps. but you craved his attention.
it’d be simplistic things like that, it always started with a kiss. a kiss that never failed to leave you speechlessly dumbfounded.
his taste, you were entirely obsessed with it. a sweetness that forever lingered off his tongue. you couldn’t describe it into words, but it was purely appetizing.
as of currently though, you’d be sat on his lap whilst he’s manspread on his throne. it was awfully quiet, just the two of you.
you’re hovering over his hardened length before breathing in a single breath. “sukuna,” you’d pout, and he’s just blankly staring at you coldly—an unreadable expression, although he found your consistent pouting to be oddly amusing. humans were so fascinating to him. “can i touch myself now?”
“little girl,” he tsks, a hand going around your hip. your breathing hitches from his touch before you’re just hovering barely over his leaky tip now. “it’s sir to you. and what did i tell you about asking stupid questions, hm?”
“but ‘kuna,” you’d frown, and he loathed hearing you have the audacity to shorten his name. he told you to address him as something otherwise, and you completely steered clear from it.
quite the brat you were.
stupid stupid stupid…
but he secretly loved it, only you could get away with something like that. anyone else with the balls would find themselves practically dead. perhaps sukuna has somewhat of a soft spot for his servant, but of course he’d never mention that to you, not in a million years.
“but nothing,” he snarls, and you moan once you start to slowly sink yourself down into his length. so thick, you already started to feel your salivating. sukuna brings a hand to grip your chin, and he makes you stare right into his eyes. “touching is deserved. you gotta deserve it, get it?”
“no,” you grumble, and he smirks.
“well boo hoo, too fuckin’ bad,” he speaks in a raspy tone, and his words alone were enough to have you sopping wet.
it was embarrassing, you were embarrassing…
you didn’t care though, your arms wrap around his neck before you start to gradually grind yourself against him. his shaft stood tall, and for a split second you could feel him pulsate the further he deepens himself into you. your walls grip him tightly like a vice, and it makes him poke a tongue into his hollow cheek.
“mhmm,” he groans, the utter feeling of your cunt swallowing him whole always gets to him.
forever entangled with your warmth, you spot his fangs poke out with his maw slightly opened and it’s cute. you could just about make out a dimple or two on the king’s face. “don’t look at me, move your hips ‘n make yourself u-useful.”
a stutter, you merely giggle but you didn’t wanna test your luck. at least not just yet.
cruel darkened irises stare into yours the entire time, and it takes a good moment until you’re finally in. it makes him gnaw on his lip at how warm you were from the inside. already soaked and ready for him, he leans further back against the material of his throne before grunting.
“…move,” he sighs, gifting your ass with a mean abrupt spank. “you wanted to ride me so ride me, girl.”
you quavered, feeling your cunt twitch and spasm all from the way he sank into you.
it was so lewd, you buried your face into his neck and he just rolls his eyes before an awkward hand pats your head.
“s-so biiiig,” you’d whimper out, and whilst he’s going even further by filling you full of such thick sultry inches, you whine. the feeling of being split in two with your wetness—your love cave that had him addicted made you let off the sweetest gasp. he’s resuming to bury himself into you, and the minute you create up a swift tempo—your knees were ready to just about buckle.
it’s entirely cute, you felt him twitch from the inside and you couldn’t help but slump further into his broad chest.
sukuna snickers at your … interesting durability so to speak.
all the way in and not even moments later—you were fairly worn out. just about. “awh. tapping out on me already i see?” he purrs in a sly tone, a teasing gesture of his hand runs down your back. “and you were so confident earlier too. oh, how disappointing..”
“n—no, i can take you,” you mumble with glossy lips, and his touch against your skin made you let off repetitive soft spoken moans. a thumb of his strokes against the corners of your waist as you rutted yourself back and forth. your rhythm was purely hypnotic, entirely so that it makes him groan for a bit.
his fat tip prods against your slick outer labia and it runs against your entrance. he likes to do a certain motion—pulling out, only to stuff you right back full, he wants you to feel it. feel him and all of his inches, his girth that consumes into your cunt. as he’s stuffing you so full, you can’t help but drool a bit. a bit as in a lot. sukuna’s eyes linger towards you for a long time before he grips your chin once more.
“can you really…?” he hums, and it’s as if he’s challenging you. “or are you just saying that?”
you glare and he only returns with a subtle smirk, he liked getting under your skin. it was his favorite pastime, irking those cute nerves of yours. from the inside, he couldn’t get over how soft you were. such warm walls hugging all around him so tightly, it felt natural. your sopping wet cunt grips against him time and time again—squelch after squelch that it sounds like a melodic harmony.
a lewd melodic harmony.
he watches as your lips part, and you’re struggling to conceal those moans. you whimper from each thrust that it’s got your thighs growing numb in no time.
“f-fuckkk,” you’d whine, feeling sukuna’s cock briefly pull back from your wet folds. whenever he did that, it felt so good…. too good. sukuna’s hefty base thwacked against you in the process too, on loop, a constant salacious repeat. it had you dizzy, you’re grinding and swiveling your hips at such a hectic pace that you can’t even stop yourself. your mouth felt dry, just being sweetly stretched over nothing but a mere squeezing muscle from the inside.
it’s so hot tempered, your warmth had him kissing his teeth in such arousal, such pleasure.
“sukunaaa,” you’d whine once his dick runs against the corners of your inner walls, all throughout your canal. he reaches everywhere, he’s lengthy too, so there’s not a single spot that he misses. he slides in and out, and his base was so fat and thick, so full that it just mimics your movements of being hit against. “i— i’m gonna,” and you abruptly get cut off with a rough kiss.
your moans slither its way into his mouth as your hands ran down his ripped chest, feeling against his tatted body. the battle scars that perfectly painted his broad figure like a canvas, you return the kiss before he precipitously pulls away. a glossed string of spit departs, and sukuna glares at you. “wait, girl.”
and it sounds more like a warning than anything.
his tone being hidden with such baritone underneath it, you were even more soaked. whenever he pitched his tone to show his dominance like that, his authority—you felt yourself pulse for the umpteenth time.
he tells you to wait, but instead you do the exact opposite.
you don’t even realize you came all on his cock until he’s greeting you with the most livid glare imaginable—still, sukuna grabs your hips before muttering. “did you just cum? and don’t lie to me, woman.”
if you aren’t twitching as much as you were before, you certainly were now. the air felt thick, and whilst you straddled him, you shyly reply with a mumbling, “…sorry.”
you don’t mean to giggle after that…
but you do—the soft smile that curls against your lips meets his gaze and sukuna suddenly makes himself pull out. “so funny, huh?” and you’re taken by surprise the moment he makes you part your legs. his right thigh goes between your legs from underneath and you moan once he spanks you. “some fuckin’ audacity you have. ain’t no one told you to finish,” and he grips your chin, giving it a squeeze. “look at me when i speak to you, woman.”
he was so close you could just kiss him. your lashes were half-lidded, and you were so drawn into him that you don’t even realize that he’s shoved two fingers into your cunt. you moaned at how easily it goes in. he swirls his digits inside just briefly, taking it out before bringing it towards your mouth. “open your mouth ‘n stick out your tongue, brat.”
you were amused, aroused too but surely amused.
without question, you loll out your tongue in front of him, only for sukuna to shove his fingers right down your throat. you moan at the candied taste of yourself, so sweet. he remains with a glare on his face as you lapped up his fingers clean, you weren’t supposed to be enjoying that.
“such a disobedient girl,” he huffs, and that’s when he pulls out his fingers, a sheen stringy coat of your own saliva dribbles down your chin before he smears it all over your mouth.
“since you wanna be a impatient whore, that’s all the taste you’ll be getting today. ‘m expecting a thank you, little girl. go on, i’ll wait.”
#★vegasbaby.#sukuna smut#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#jjk smut#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujustsu kaisen x reader#anime smut#female reader
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--> ||❝ The Creator has a.. LOVER?! ❞
SAGAU || Warnings: fluff, gender neutral reader
[ The people of Teyvat find out their grace has been romantically involved with someone for a while now.. what do they think about it? ]
Character(s): NEUVILLETTE, ZHONGLI
-> [ NEUVILLETTE ]
“Oh, the Iudex of Fontaine is the creator’s chosen suitor? Okay.. He’s a qualified and accomplished man. I can see why the creator chose someone like him.”
With the one and only hydro dragon sovereign stuck to your side at all times, it was no surprise to anyone that the two of you had gotten close. But the creator falling in love with him?? That’s different.
Of course, the people of Teyvat had all wished to have a chance with you. And of course, everyone knew it was impossible… but hope is a good thing right? They knew the day would come though, just not so soon..
When the people found out that the Creator had someone they loved more than the usual “I love all of Teyvat equally and platonically.” EVERYONE WENT CRAZY. What do you mean the creator has a LOVER? What do you mean they’ve probably kissed. WHAT DO YOU MEAN ITS THE IUDEX OF FONTAINE????
Nevertheless, no one was actually disappointed. They had heard you talk about him through the screen even before you descended to Teyvat. They were glad you were happy… I guess (though they wish it was with them.) Fontaine obviously took pride in having the creator spend a lot of their time residing there, even more pride in the fact that you were romantically involved with a citizen of Fontaine.
─━━ ꯭ ───ׂ─ִ─ ͜͡✿͜͡ ─ִ──ׂ── ꯭ ━━ִ─
Neuvillette wasn’t quite sure how to react to all of the publicity the news had gotten. Every time the two of you go out together he feels the stares coming from the people around you. The stares weren’t the usual stares he got when he was doing a court trial.. they felt new to him. He was glad that he was at least able to say more affectionate words to you out in public though!
“Monsieur Neuvillette! I’ve heard the recent news.. haha.. so, how’s it being with the Creator? Bet you feel real lucky, huh.“
“I would consider myself lucky to be with Y/N. I feel that no amount of love give—“
“Y/N???? I-I MEAN— YOU’RE ON A FIRST NAME BASIS WITH YOUR GRACE?!”
“I am. Now, if I may continue…”
When he’s not actively working and someone asks him about you, he could yap about you for HOURS. So much to the point people avoid bringing you up even in non-professional events. He’s literally lovestruck. Heart eyes when he looks at you and everything. (everyone’s secretly side-eyeing him… out of jealousy.)
-> [ ZHONGLI ]
“Hm.. The Wangsheng Funeral Consultant..? He is quite a handsome man, but is that all? Of course we respect him! It’s just that.. I expected the Creator’s suitor to be an Archon or something. But if that’s what the creator wants, we should respect their choice right?”
The people of Liyue had begun to put the pieces together. No wonder you were always visiting the Funeral Parlor.. wait, were the times that the both of you were spotted together at Iron Tongue Tian’s Stall listening to the telling of old stories.. DATES?? How could they have only just now realized…
Well, now that the news is out at least you can comfortably hold his hand outside of the Parlor! Not everyone is completely happy with this though.. Who might that be? The other archons of course! They all took pride in being among some of the closest beings in Teyvat to you, but now that they weren’t all equally close to you, feelings of jealousy began to rise.
Zhongli secretly felt smug about that though. I mean, of course anyone would. Being the Creator’s lover is probably the biggest flex in all of Teyvat!! Only certain people are able to even be close to the Creator, not to mention TOUCH them. (which are the playable characters.) Oh, and doing affectionate things like lovers do WITH THE CREATOR?? The things people would do to be in Zhongli’s place.
─━━ ꯭ ───ׂ─ִ─ ͜͡✿͜͡ ─ִ──ׂ── ꯭ ━━ִ─
You and Zhongli were taking a walk in the city of Liyue as you always do. There was a cool breeze and the orange lights coming from the food stalls gave the atmosphere a comfortable, warm feeling. You looked back at Zhongli who had already been staring at you. He’s about to put his arms around you when out of nowhere—
“Your Grace! Fancy seeing you here.. ehe. Are you here for the Lantern Rite? Oh! You should come to the Windblume Festival again! We’ll make sure to make it extraaa special, just for you. Speaking of special— There’s a new wine back in Mondstadt made specially from the freshest dandelio—“
“Hello, Venti.”
“Oh. Hello Mr. Zhongli. Are you busy right now? If not, the Funeral Parlor is calling for you. You should probably go.”
“The Funeral Parlor is closed today, Venti.”
lmao archons actively trying to get you to spend time with them instead of Zhongli. (They can’t stand to see you hugging, holding hands, and doing all kinds of sappy activities with him)
AGHHH SECOND WRITING EVER!! Had fun ^_^ might do a part 2 with Itto and Xiao (or other characters) feel free to leave recommendations for any other characters!! Likes nd reblogs are much appreciated ^_^
#genshin impact#sagau#neuvillette#zhongli#neuvilette x reader#zhongli x reader#x reader#gender neutral reader#sagau x reader#yandere#genshin#yayyy
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My valentine
Summary: You and your best friend found a way to get away from all the valentine’s day by doing your own program. But, being alone for a long time only meant you two were horny and needy for affection.
wc: 3.3k (i got a little excited writing it, sorry)
warnings: friends to lovers; smut!!! +18 please (you’re responsible for yourself babe, but i warned you); fluff; masturbation (m!reciving); inexperienced!femreader. Tell if something is missing.
authors note: I know i’m a little late with valentines thing but i couldn’t help myself. I really liked the result and i hope you do too. It’s a new thing writing smutty things but i hope it’s not terrible. <3
*update*- i just posted a part two!
**********
It was valentine’s day and you felt like you were the loneliest person in the world. Everyone was with their partners when you were all by yourself. Of course you were being dramatic but you were tired of having to pretend that it was okay to be single because you don’t needed a boy to make you happy. But you wanted to.
The same thing happened to your best friend. Eddie was all by himself. He was never the guy the girls would die for. They were too scared to see how pretty he was. But he also had been feeling kind of alone. He would walk in the market and see all the decorations he hated so much. Not only in school, everywhere, people would be all over each other. He always hated valentine’s day but he never knew that was because of his jealousy and would always blame in the capitalism and its ways to persuade people.
As you both would be alone, to distract you from thinking about couples making out, you created your own thing. You would go at each other’s house to watch movies together, eat junk food and talk about stuff. For two years you’ve been doing this and this year was your time being a host. At this time, you got lucky your parents weren’t home for the week. In the first year, you brought Eddie home and your mom kept asking non stop questions about him and how did you finally realized you were made for each other.
“You’re late.” You opened the door for him, taking the boxes off his hands.
“I’m sorry my lady, is my butler work not good enough for you?” He said in a english accent mocking you. “There was a lot of people ordering pizzas too. They copied our idea.”
“Fine. I just took the cookies out of the oven.” You pointed to the baking sheet “What movies did you pick?”
“Well, let’s see.There is the movie you asked for with the cats”
“Did you take the right one? Or just some movie about a cat?”
“Is the Disney one, right? The Aristocats? I got this one, nightmare on elm street and fast times at ridgemont high.” Eddie only took this last one because Steve said ’there’s some very interesting scenes about a girl, if you know what i mean’. Of course Eddie knew the girl’s titties would show up, he’d never watched it because he thought it would be a shitty movie. “If i want to see boobs i’ll just watch porn or i’ll buy a magazine” he would say. But he really thought about it and that would be the only way to make you watch something like that with him.
Once he asked if girls watched porn and you just ignored the question. He wanted to see your reaction and he knew you would never watch something like that, let alone with a guy. It would be the closest thing to porn you’d watch.
Also it was a secret to no one that he had a little massive crush on you. Maybe it was a secret only for you. Eddie don’t even know when did it started. One day you were just a girl who he was friends with but suddenly you were much more then that. You were hot, interesting, cute, smart and he couldn’t help but be enamored with you. But he never did anything to change that, to afraid of making you run away from him. To him, in that situation, your relationship as friends was more important. He wouldn’t stand to lose you. So he buried his feelings deep down and pretended it that never happened.
“Eddie it’s not Halloween. We’re not watching that, you know i can’t sleep afterwards.”
“Alright, no horror movies” He discarded the movie
“So is gonna be aristocats and this other movie. Is this even good? I never saw it.” Of course you saw it. Since Dustin told you guys his girlfriend was a hotter version of Phoebe Cates you had to. You scolded him after.
“It was on the recommendation board so we’ll have to trust in that”
********
Eddie had never seen the Disney movie before. It was for kids but you always loved it since you were a little kid. And if you loved, he’d watch it for you (he would not admit but he loved it too). There you were in the second movie. You had seen it two years ago so you were focused on the movie. But with that, you forgot about the boobs
“Oh…” Your cheeks got red. Seeing that by yourself was ok. But right by Eddie’s side, you got embarrassed and tried not to look at the tv in front of you. In the meantime, he was looking at you to see your reaction.
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know that would happen” He said trying to sound like he was surprised
“Don’t worry, i see this every day.”
Eddie didn’t payed attention in the movie anymore. Were you talking about porn?
When the movie ended you went to bed and Eddie came with you. Being friends for a long time made you so accustomed to be around each other that now you would insist that he would sleep with you in your bed and not on the couch.
He would not sleep if he kept the question to himself. He had to ask.
“Good night Eds. Thanks for today. It was really nice!”
“Sure sweetheart, i had a good time too!”
And the place got quiet. It was now or never.
“Hey… can i ask you something?”
You just hummed
“Well… Earlier, when we were watching the movie you said that you would see it everyday when we saw the girl’s titties. With that do you… you know, d’ya mean you see boobs everyday in like, porn?”
“What? Why would you say that?” You said looking at his face even though the room was dark
“I don’t know why it just came in my head like, come on!”
“Eddie… i’m a girl. I see them everyday because i have them. Just like every woman. Go sleep, will ya.”
Eddie don’t know if that make it better or worse. Not that he didn’t know you had boobs. Of course you had. But now, you had boobs, you’d watch them and everything came to Eddie as a movie. Or as a dream in witch it really did. Right by your side, in your bed, in your house. Eddie had a wet dream about you. I wasn’t the first time. But it was in you house, close to you. Till then, he was sleeping and his mind was working on making him hard by the images of you touching your boobs while you were fucked by him.
You had woken up first, not realizing his morning wood, you went to the bathroom, then to the kitchen to take a glass of water and came back. But now he’d moved and, in his sweatpants, his “situation” was pretty obvious.
That scared the shit out of you. What would you do? Should you go back to sleep? Or try to pretend you never saw it. You weren’t a boy, but that seemed to be very uncomfortable. Suddenly you got hot. Seeing his dick poking out in his pants, his bare torso shown by his shirt that was lifted up. His wild hair that framed his face. Of course you knew you had feelings for Eddie, but you never did anything to let him know. It was a secret only for you and you only. You couldn’t do anything about your best friend. Even if he had a boner and got you all worked up.
He started to move around and to wake up when he saw you sitting on the bed and looking at the ceiling. Before saying anything he felt it. “Holy fuck!” that’s what he thought. He started to panic. Did you saw it. Would he be fast enough to run to the bathroom and try to work on it. “No, you shithead, you can’t jerk in her bathroom”
You realize his movements and looked at him. You knew that he knew you knew. Now the blanket were covering him.
“Mornin” He said casually and you nodded you head, trying not to lend your eyes on his cock to see if you could still see his bulge. “You saw it, right?”
“Saw what? I-I just woke up!” You said a little to fast “I mean, i barely opened my eyes and- yeah, i saw it.” you stopped when you saw his expressions getting amused. If you already saw it, there wasn’t a reason to be concerned anymore.
“Don’t worry, that happens sometimes” he said as if he didn’t have any dreams. It was just normal
“What? Out of nowhere?”
“Yeah, sort of…” He said remembering you in his dream and resisting the urge to touch his cock
“Can’t you like, turn it off or something”
He laughed at you face. You were getting more and more uncomfortable and in the same time, a bit horny. “It’s not like the tv we watched last night. You can’t turn it off.”
“But…” You saw his face. He was looking at you “I don’t get it”
“Well, i don’t know how to explain it” He tried to sound confident about it “It’s like when your nipples get hard when you women get cold. It not a thing you control” That part was true. He couldn’t control his dick or his mind so he wouldn’t find you attractive.
“But it seems to be painful” You said looking at him getting up.
“It is a little. I’ll go to the bathroom to try to ‘turn it off’” He said giggling
“Wait Eddie!” He turned to you and now you could see how big he was. Even with his pants, it was visible. “You don’t have to do it by yourself. Can i do something? Like, can i help you?”
Eddie froze in place. He would go take a cold shower and have thoughts about random things that wasn’t you. He was not going to masturbate in there. Was he still dreaming?
“Sorry! Oh i’m so so sorry. I don’t know what i was thinking about” You regret when you saw how his face got to serious.
“No no no. Don’t be sorry. I’m just surprised, that’s all.” He sat again looking at you cover your face “I mean, we’re friends. Last time i checked, friends don’t usually give a handy to other friends.”
“I’m so fucking stupid and embarrassingly alone that i let this stupid date get in my mind. I don’t know…”
“Were you willing to do it? For real?” He was really curious to know if you would jerk him off. That had to mean something, right?
“I’m sorry, it’s fucking crazy!” Hugging your knees, you looked at him and forced your arms to open
“Come on, don’t be so harsh. Were you?”
You nodded to scared of his reactions to your horny attitudes
“I thought you were virgin and said you were inexperienced in everything”
“It can’t be that hard” You whispered and looked at his eyes. Those pleading eyes that were begging to go back in time but were just reassuring Eddie that the shower would not ‘turn it off’ anymore.
“What if i said i wanted you to do it, huh? Would that be to weird?”
Now it was your turn to be shocked. Now he was asking you to do it. Was it to weird? Maybe a little, but only because you never did it before and because it was your best friend.
“I don’t know Eddie… I think you just as crazy as me” He laughed at that
“I might be a little. But it’s a good thing” You were feeling more comfortable now. It was your Eddie again and not some guy you had a crush on. “I know what you’re thinking. But, don’t you think i never wondered how would it be to kiss you? You are the most amazing friend i could have and with that comes this feeling too. But i don’t want to lose you. You’re to important for me”
“You too. Honestly i’d be lost without you. But i also wonder how would it be, you know…”
You kept looking at him and he did the same. You were making sure that it was the right thing to do. The he closed the gap between you two. Bodies bonding and connecting to each other. Your lips were so soft. Eddie was sure he was in his dream now. His hands that before was holding your face, now went to your back, caressing your waist. And your hands ran from his shoulders to his hair, tugging some locks of it and making him groan.
Things heated up and he pulled you to his lap. His bulge was now touching your crotch. With his hands on your waist, he took advantage of that and encouraged you to move back and forth making you feel so good. The friction was perfect. His lips were perfect. The way he was kissing you like he waited his whole life for it. Separating to breathe, you leaned on him, your foreheads touching, but your movements continued slightly.
“For a very inexperienced girl, you’re a hell of a kisser. Damn, are you sure you’re telling the truth?” He said panting with his eyes closed and his lips curled to a smile. You smiled back
“Yeah, i assure you. Don’t make me feel like i’m too good though. I’m gonna get too cocky.”
“Tell that to him” He pressed you down on him and, once again, you felt his hard dick. ‘How can it be so hard?’ you thought
“Can i take of your pants?” you asked a little scared
“Sure thing, sweetheart” He was smiley. He helped you to take it off and wow. You were a little shocked. It was big. You thought about it for a second and you honestly thought he was not average.
“Can i say something too?” He nodded while he pulled you back to him. “I don’t know what you’re thinking right now but i just wanted to tell you so you don’t have any expectations. I don’t even know if you have any-” You were talking super fast, Eddie had to shut you up with a kiss. “Sorry. I was saying that, i think i still need some time, you know, if you want to have actual sex.”
“It’s alright. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to here”
“But i really wanted to do this. To help you here.” You said running your hand from his chest to his lower belly and his cock twitched. You wasn’t expecting that to happen “Is this normal” He nodded and giggled
“Are you sure you want to do it? You know, i’m not proud to say it, but have jerked off before. Plenty of times actually. If you’re not comfortable doing it, it’s not a problem for me to do it by myself.” It was melting your heart in the way he was talking to you. Caring about you.
“Yes i am! I’m just… insecure about it. I don’t know how to-.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll show you how, alright?” It was you time to nod you head. “A’right then. First thing, we need it to be wet, so you’ll have to spit on you hand.”
You hesitated but gathered a good amount of saliva on your mouth and spited on your hand.
“That’s right. Very good. Now you can wrap your hand around it” You just didn’t know where to. Was he talking about the tip or the base. You went for the tip.
Groaning low, he cleared his throat “Good girl. Now you can just make some circles around the tip and then go down.” You did what you were told to and that seemed to work. Your foreheads, that were glued to this time, separated a little before he came back. Both of you looking at your hand moving around his red tip leaking pre cum.
“Is that normal?”
“It means it’s fucking good” Even his voice changed. It was getting rougher and lower.
“Can you guide me a little. I’m scared i’ll squeeze you too hard” you said and his hand wrapped around yours.
“Don’t be afraid. It’s better when is tight. I’ll let you know if it’s to much” He let you do it by yourself when you got the right rhythm and grip.
Your hand were moving tightly up and down. You didn’t know if it was there before, you didn’t notice because you were to focus, but his hands were squeezing your tights hard. You could feel your panties getting soaked. How come you were excited by jerking him off.
More of the liquid you saw before came out and you ran your thumb over it. He let out a moan that rambled inside you body.
“Can you, please, go a little faster than that” And that’s what you did. The moan you heard was the first of many others that came along. You had gathered, again, more saliva and thought that it would be nice to be even wetter than it was. So you separated a little from him, looking at his confused eyes trying to read you. You separated enough to bend down and to spit on it again, looking at his eyes roll back, throwing his head back. You came back to your position, proud that you did something good without him telling you.
Your movements got faster than before and he, restless panting, kissed you. You wanted to make him cum hard. So you separated the kiss, kept up the speed, flashing him your boobs. That was the final push for Eddie.
The way he grabbed you and moan at your ear was insanely hot. You watched ropes of cum come of his dick. Your hand were now with white and sticky cum.
“Holy fucking shit!” He panted for the last time and let go of his grip on you. “Are you really sure you’re inexperienced?”
“I might’ve heard some advice about it from some friends” You said getting out of his lap, but he stopped you
“Where are you going?”
“I’ve been up here for a while, i don’t want to hurt your legs. Besides, my hand is a little dirty.” He laughed a little
“Let’s clean up and come back here then.”
That’s what you did. When you came back, he pulled you to his chest and you started to talk.
“You know, i got hard because i had a wet dream about you. Probably because of the movie. But you were in a bikini like hers and, well… you know the rest.”
“Really? What a perv.” You laughed together. You couldn’t be more happy to let this felling out of your chest. You didn’t know for how long you could keep that from him.
“What i mean is that, i really hope you don’t think that i’m doing this just because i was hard and you were there to help. I like you, not in a friend way and, if you let me, i would like to make you my girlfriend one day, if you want. For real. Take you out to dates, stay together doing whatever the shit we’ll want, give you things that i know you will love. This kinda shit.”
“If you want to, i would love to be your girlfriend. And all of the things you mentioned. Well… you know, you already do all of that. The sex is new though.”
He laughed and kissed you passionately
“Great. Now, you’ll get see how much fun we’re gonna have” You spent the rest of your valentine’s day like this. Laughing and kissing each other.
#eddie munson#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie stranger things#eddie x reader#eddie munson headcanon#eddie x you#eddie smut#eddie munson x fem!reader fluff#eddie munson smut#smut#eddie munson fem!reader#best friend eddie#innocent reader#inexperienced!reader#valentines day#happy valentine's day
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A Thousand Years
Astarion x Reader
Summary: Astarion tells a story of love.
"Tell me about your wife." said the man sitting in front of Astarion, the room was quiet around them, only the crackling of the fire could be heard.
Upon hearing the word, wife, Astarion's features softened.
"It might be a long one."
"I want to hear it." insisted the man as he leaned back in his chair, waiting for Astarion to start.
Astarion smiled, his eyes filled with love as he began.
"My wife... My beloved Y/N. She saved me you know, in more ways than one. She not only helped me kill the man who caused me so much pain and suffering, but she saved me from myself.
My beloved was a strong woman, brave and incredibly beautiful. She was a kind soul and yet, she could kill a thousand men without taking a break.
She loved songs and loved to dance. Although that might be because I was the one dancing with her. She often said she didn't wish to dance with anyone else but me.
She enjoyed sweets. But only the ones I have given her.
And even if I told her not, she kept on eating them.
It has been so long yet, I will never forget her laugh. She became my world. You know, it wasn't even intentional, I fell in love by accident. I was only meant to seduce her so she would help me kill Cazador. And yet I found myself in love.
But make no mistake, I never regretted the feelings I have. Not once. Falling in love with her was so easy.
I am quite privileged to be able to tell that she was my wife.
My... scars on my back, she cried when she first saw them. She hugged me and told me how sorry she was for I had to endure such pain. She kissed me and cried at the same time. I was so confused by it, I didn't know what to do.
But then, not long after, I asked her to marry me." Astarion looked at the gold band on his finger.
"I never believed in marriage, I thought it was silly for people to bind themselves to one another, and the symbol of it all... a simple ring. I laughed at the idea until I met the person I never wanted to let go of again. Suddenly I wanted nothing more but to have her bonded to me and for me to be bonded to her. I looked and searched for the perfect rings. Matching ones, but hers had a simple stone in the middle. A stone which was made of our blood. The perfect diamond, mixed with my and her blood. And then, we were married. Not like the words of others mattered to me, I would have been happy just to have her in my life, but to have her as my wife... it meant everything.
I will not bore you of the events directly after the wedding, leave it up for your imagination I suppose, but I can assure you, she was the first woman who could have me at her feet with a simple look.
And she always looked at me with so much love and care. She was always so gentle and lovely.
When people say love burns like fire, they lie, my love for her burns like lava, much like the core of the Earth. I was ready to destroy everything and everyone who would dare get between us. If I had to, I would have burnt down villages for her, for she was mine.
And not long after, she gave me the greatest gift.
A gift so precious.
I will never forget the look on her face when she told me, pure happiness.
She was with child.
Something I never even thought would be possible for me and yet there she was, getting more and more round with my child, with my son. Our son.
She was the sun for me. I have lived a long life in darkness and pain, and she made it all go away with a simple simple. I had a life of happiness thanks to her." Astarion leaned back in his chair once more when the noises from the kitchen stopped.
"STOP TELLING PEOPLE I'M DEAD!"
"I have never used the word 'dead', My Love." Astarion turned to look at you as you exited the kitchen.
"But you made it sound like I am." you pouted as Astarion looked at the ring on your finger, he smiled as you placed the food on the table. "Don't listen to him, Love, he is but an old romantic." you said as you sat down.
"I am very much aware, Mother. I just like to listen to him talk about you." admitted your son as he smiled at the two of you. Now a grown man, yet all you could see was him as a little boy running around the house, hair silver like his father's but eyes the same as yours.
"That's because I love your mother very much."
"I love you too." you replied as you all finally began to eat.
You two loved each other for a thousand years, and you will continue to love for another thousand to come.
Your son could only hope to find such love.
Taglist: @fleursirvart@greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace@sincerelyfan@theoneanna@aestheticsandmarvel@rororo06@castellandiangelo@destynelseclipsa@spilledinkindumpster@capsiclesdoll@puknow@alwayshave-faith@alex12948@lxdyred@imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl@anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek@praline357 @trshngyn@avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak @manduse@jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie@noname2246
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#astarion#astarion x reader#astarion x you#astarion x tav#astarion x female reader#astarion imagine#astarion romance#astarion imagines#x reader#x female reader#baldurs gate#baldurs gate astarion#baldurs gate iii#baldurs gate x reader#baldurs gate imagine#baldurs gate imagines#baldurs gate 3#baldurs gate astarion x reader#astarion ancunin x reader#astarion ancunin x you#astarion ancunin x tav#astarion ancunin imagine#astarion bg3#bg3 astarion#astarion ancunin imagines#astarion ancunin x fem reader#video games
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Dating Roronoa Zoro would include (liveaction!Zoro x female!reader headcanons)
Tw: slight cursing, a bit suggestive towards the end, mentions of sword fighting
A/n: okay so i decided to give it a try myself lol this is completely based off the live action (i haven't watched the anime nor read the manga). I hope you like it, i'm so in love with our green haired baby 🥰 also forgive me for any mistakes, english is not my first language 🙏🏻
• First things first,we gotta make it clear: Zoro acts tough and all but deep down he is a big softie akslajskak
• The thing is, because of his past, he isn't very used to being treated kindly
• So when he found you it was like his world completely changed
• He cherished every little act of care you did for him
• He loooved when you ran your fingers through his hair
• He would close his eyes and enjoy it with a small smile on his lips
• Or when you caressed the back of his neck when you kissed him
• It drove him crazyyy
• He loved these little delicate touches that made his heart do a backflip
• And how about when you grabbed his face, looked deep into his eyes and kissed the tip of his nose?
• Boy would blush like hell
• "You're so cute when you blush" - you'd tease him with another kiss on the cheek
• "No, i'm not" - he said frowning and trying to brush that off, which only made you giggle and kiss him again
• You would always make sure to let him know how much you loved him
• And even though he wasn't the best in expressing his feelings, you could feel how grateful he was for that
• He would always look at you with the most passionate eyes and that's when you knew he loved you just as much
• And he would show it too
• Hell he would do anything for you
• Once he made Sanji prepare a whole feast for you (with him helping ajdkajskaj) because you accidentally let slip you missed food from home
• Or that time he secretly bought you a cute bracelet he saw you staring at when you stopped by at a village
• That's how much he loved you and wanted to make you happy
• And the straw hats would always tease you guys about it
• Except poor Luffy who didn't understand anything that was going on lol
• But he saw how happy you both were and, if his crew was happy, he was happy too
• Now Zoro wasn't much of PDA
• But he made sure to show everyone you belonged to each other
• He would usually put his arm around your waist or around your shoulders
• (When he did the latter one, you liked to intertwine your fingers with his which he thought was super cute ajskajskja)
• You on the other hand liked to hook your arm with his when he had his hand in his pocket
• Let's be honest you loved feeling the strong muscles of his arms
• Yeah, his physique was something you admired a lot
• You loved to watch him practice his sword fighting
• The way his strong arms moved
• That pretty face he did when he was concentrated
• The way his fingers moved on the sword
• Him all sweaty...
• okay let's stop over there
• He noticed you watching and one day he had a brilliant idea (or so he thought)
• You were a very skilled fighter, but you had never tried fighting with a weapon
• So he decided to teach you how to fight with his swords
• Ngl it was tough
• But you were very decided to try your best
• But actually the best part turned out to be being extra close to him
• "Hey, you have to position your arms like this" - he said as he gently lift your arms with a touch so soft it gave you butterflies
• He stood behind you as he helped you correctly hold the sword, putting his hands in yours (yeah like a big cliche move lol)
• He was so close you could feel his breath on the back of your neck
• Which only made you even more distracted and had you get the move wrong again
• "Zoro, love, let's be honest, i can't do it. You are the greatest swordsman i know and i'll never be any close to that, so let's just give up" - you said, frustrated
• "What? No. (Y/N), you are the most determined and dedicated person i've ever known and i'm sure you can do anything you want" - he said, holding your hand and looking at you lovingly - "just... try it one more time. For me?" - he said with puppy eyes and you couldn't say no to the man you loved so much
• You grabbed the sword again and to your surprised you nailed the movement
• "I did it! Oh my gosh, Zoro, i did it!" - you said smiling from ear to ear
• He was as surprised and happy as you, with that pretty smile he didn't show often but that you loved so much
• He grabbed you and spun you around as you both laughed
• "I knew you could do it" - he said as he put you on the ground again - "i'm so proud of my girl" - he kissed your cheek
• And now it was your time to blush as he ruffled your hair
• (Needless to say, Usopp and Sanji were watching the whole thing and started making fun of you two, which only made you blush even harder lmaooo)
• Okay so we all know and love his deep voice, right?
• Now imagine his morning voice 💀
• After spending a ahem very good night together you'd wake up next to each other in the morning
• "Morning, Zoro" - you'd say still sleepy
• "Morning, babe. D'you sleep well?" - he asked in that deep, raspy voice that gave you all the butterflies
• Damnnnn
• You'd get weak in the knees all over again lmao
• And that could lead to something else 👀
• But that's a whole another story ajdkajskaj
• And speaking of his voice
• He wasn't much of talking, but he slowly started opening up to you
• Sharing his thoughts, fears and stories from his past
• You saw through him and broke down his walls, so he felt 100% comfortable around you
• You'd lay down together and talk about everything
• That was such a special and intimate moment for you
• You loved being there with him, taking in his scent and listening to his voice while he traced circles down your back
• He would tell you stories about Kuina and the promise he made
• You swear you had never seen him that vulnerable
• But you were glad he felt safe enough to share that with you
• In the end you just hugged and reassured him
• "I know you will keep your promise, and i'll be here supporting you until the end" - you said, gently cupping his cheek
• "Thank you, (Y/N)" - he said softly, and you could see the warmth in his eyes - "now i have another reason to believe i can make it"
• "What is it?" - you asked, a bit confused
• "Having you by my side" - he said in his low voice, laying down and closing his eyes
• Your heart fluttered at that 😭
• "It's my pleasure, Roronoa Zoro" - you said smiling and cuddling him as you both fell asleep <3
#roronoa zoro#roronoa zoro x reader#one piece live action#netflix one piece#live action roronoa zoro
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Good day Mr Flanagan. please what does "the rest is confetti" mean to you and in the context it was used in hill house??
Okay, here we go. Buckle up for a long read.
To answer this, I've got to explain a little bit about what was happening and where I was when I sat down to write episode 10 of The Haunting of Hill House.
Hill House was not a fun shoot. The picture above is from very early in production, when I was still chubby and happy.
It was my first foray into television. I was absolutely terrified that I'd mess it up. So I'd opted to direct all of the episodes myself, figuring that - if nothing else - I'd have no one else to blame if it went south.
It was the most grueling professional experience of my career. The shoot was by no means a smooth one, every day was an uphill battle from a budgetary perspective, and between the three giant production entities involved with the production, I spent a lot of time fighting over the creative and logistical elements of the series.
I began losing weight. I was smoking two packs of cigarettes a day.
By the end of the shoot, I had dropped almost 40 lbs.
I was very depressed. Every day was a battle, and for the first time in my career, I wasn't excited to go to work in the morning. We were fighting for basic resources, fighting for the show we wanted, and even fighting amongst ourselves by the end. It was grueling.
We hadn't written all of the scripts when we started production. I believe we had finished through episode 7, but the rest of the scripts had to be finished while we were already shooting.
We'd mapped everything out in the writers room, and I had great support on the other episodes, but I was writing the finale solo. I'd thought I'd be able to juggle it with everything else. I quickly fell behind.
I finally got to the script about halfway through production. I'd work on it between takes at the monitor, and then get home to our tiny rental house in Atlanta, where Kate was waiting with our baby son. (One of the rare bright spots of this shoot came when Kate found out she was pregnant about halfway through production. We even named our daughter Theodora, in honor of her origins.)
I'd typically fall down from exhaustion when I got home, but I had to push through it and work on the script. My weekends were spent shotlisting and prepping for upcoming episodes. We didn't have enough time to stay ahead of prep, so every available day was used for that... I went three months without a single day off at one point.
I'd sit up late staring at the script. I was in a dark, dark place. Overwhelmed, exhausted, and feeling like I lived in an eternal present. Each day bled into the next and it didn't feel like there was an end in sight. That feeling of unreality was heightened because we kept returning to the same sets, same locations, and even the same scenes throughout the 100 shooting-day production. Stepping back into the exact room we had shot in days or weeks or even months ago made the whole thing feel absolutely surreal. Making movies is always an non-linear experience, but this one felt particularly so... it was like the days of our lives were happening to us all out of order.
I remember feeling something like despair creeping into my daily experience on the show. And I remember dwelling on that when I got into the scene work of episode 10.
As I worked through the draft, I recall that despair coloring a lot of what was on the page. My filter was breaking down. There's a monologue at the beginning of the episode where Steven's wife Leigh (played by my dear friend Samantha Sloyan) spews out a torrent of eviscerating insults about Steve's value as a writer. That is just me vomiting onto myself. She was voicing all of my deepest insecurities about myself at the time, and of what I was doing with this series.
She says "Is anything real before you write it, Steve? The things you write about, they're real. Those people are real, their feelings are real, their pain is real - but not to you, is it. Not until you chew it up, digest it, and shit it out onto a piece of paper and even then, it's a pale imitation at best."
This was the mindset I was in for a lot of the shoot. The writing became a reflection of a lot of that turmoil, and I knew who I was referring to in that monologue - I was talking about my family. I was talking about how much of their lives I'd used as building material for this show. I was talking about the fact that I'd lost two loved ones to suicide, and seen what it had done to my mother in particular. And I knew I was using - possibly even exploiting - those people for this series.
There's a lot of despair in this episode. The Red Room, as we conceived it, was a place that would feed upon those emotions. Grief, sadness, loss... those were the real ghosts of our series, and where our characters find themselves at the start of the finale. They're being slowly digested - eaten alive - by those feelings.
So finally, it came time to write Nell's final scene with her siblings. I knew from the outline we'd constructed in the writers room what this was supposed to accomplish - she was supposed to be their salvation. She was supposed to take all of these feelings that we'd been wrestling with and finally provide catharsis... finally say something that would free everyone.
I remember sitting with a blinking cursor for a long time. The Crain siblings had just turned and seen Nellie standing by the door, and suddenly were able to hear her speak. But what should she say? What would I say? What would I want someone to say to me?
What she ultimately says lays bare a lot of what I was thinking about when it comes to grief. It exists outside of linear time, much as I felt I existed at the time. That sense of eternal present, that sense of a nonlinear eternity of moments and memories - it all came out in her speech to her brothers and sisters.
I remember feeling, looking at my insane present and looking back at my past, how strangely overwhelmed I was by memories. That I wasn't experiencing time in a straight line, and hadn't been for a while - for the better part of a year, I'd felt more like I was standing in a whirlwind of moments. "Our moments fall around us like..." Nell said, and I recall sitting back and trying to find the words.
"Rain," for certain, but there was something too uniform about that. The moments of life as I experienced them weren't that orderly, they weren't that small. They didn't fall the same way. Some sailed by, fast and unremarkable, while others lingered in front of me, twisting and stretching. So it was a good word, but not the right word. I left it on the page though.
"Snow" was my next attempt. Better, in that I imagined the snow blowing in the wind, swirling and dancing and feeling more organic. More chaotic. More like life. But for some reason, the word that stuck with me, the word I felt Nell Crain would connect with was...
"Confetti."
And that was because I was thinking not of Victoria Pedretti at this point, but of Violet McGraw.
Violet played Young Nell, and I wondered what she might have said if she experienced time this way. As an adult, Nell was despairing. Nell was overwhelmed. But as a child... there was an innocence to the word. There was a joy to the word.
I imagined moments falling around her, this little girl with the big smile and the wide eyes. Her moments would be colorful. They would be of different shapes and sizes, some falling fast and some falling slow, flipping and turning and dancing in the air, independent of the others. Sparkling, whirling, doing lazy summersaults as they sauntered down to Earth.
I thought of myself, and of the members of my family. I thought of those we'd lost. I realized what I hoped for them, and for us all, in the end... was to look upon that mosaic of experience, that avalanche of days and minutes and moments... and to smile with some of the joy we had as children.
And this, I thought, was something that gave me hope. This gave me a glimpse of some kind of salvation for them. This was also how I hoped my life might seem if I was a ghost - a cascade of color and light and shape and movement, something I could dance in.
So Nell smiled and said... "or confetti."
It stuck with me. The rest of her monologue gets heavy again, and gets to the real point of the show - the point of the whole series, if I'm honest - and that's forgiveness.
I figured the only thing that would let the Crain children out of the Red Room was to be forgiven. I thought of the losses in my own family, and I thought of what I wished for my mother and for my aunts and uncles and cousins and I tried to pour that into her final words.
"I loved you completely, and you loved me the same," she said, "that's all." And this was the point I wanted the most to make. That at the end of our life, if we can say this about each other, the rest doesn't matter. The rest is that rainstorm, or that blizzard, that fell around this one central truth, and maybe built itself in piles around it, to the point we lost sight of it along the way.
And I thought again of that little girl, and almost as an afterthought, wrote "The rest is confetti."
I liked the way it sounded, but I was insecure about the line. I almost took it out, in fact. I remember asking Kate to read the scene and talking about that last line with her. "Is it too cute?" I wondered. She was on the fence. "Depends on how it's acted," she said, and I figured she was right. We could always take it out if it didn't work. The scene could end with "I loved you completely, and you loved me the same. That's all."
Why not shoot it and see what happened.
I turned in the script, we published it quickly so that we could start breaking it down and prepping it. And the next morning I was back on set. I'd deal with episode 10 when it came down the pipe again, sometime in the coming months. We had a lot of shooting to get through before I had to worry about it.
I recall Netflix asking me to cut a lot of that monologue, and I remember them also having questions about the "confetti" line. I pointed out that it didn't cost us any extra to shoot it all, it was only words, and fought to keep the script intact.
Ultimately, they insisted I make a series of cuts on the page. I begrudgingly agreed, but left Nell's speech alone. I made superficial cuts around it, throughout the draft, and even considered changing the font size to fool them into thinking it had gotten shorter (I ultimately was told I wouldn't fool anyone and not to risk starting a war). But Nellie's final goodbye stayed intact.
It must be said - Victoria Pedretti SLAUGHTERED this scene.
By the time we got around to filming it, things had never been worse for the production. There was almost nothing left for a lot of us. Tensions were sky-high, resources had been exhausted completely, and we were all ready to give up.
Filming in the mold-ridden Red Room was depressing, morose, and led to a lot of arguments and unpleasantness. The room itself just felt gross, always, and we were in there for days at a time. The last thing we had to shoot in there was Nellie's goodbye.
Victoria came to set having to push through pages of monologue, and she did so with captivating bravado. I recall being teary-eyed at the monitor watching her work. And when we finally made it to the last line, I watched her deliver it with... a smile. A sincere, innocent, longing, joyful smile. A smile informed by the sadness, grief, and loss of her own situation, of her own life... but a smile that finds forgiveness and grace after all. Pedretti knew how to say the line, and how that word would work.
And as she said it, I knew it would stay in the show.
Over the years, that sentence has become something of a tagline for The Haunting of Hill House. I'm always a bit mystified and touched when I see people approach me with the line on T-shirts, or even tattooed on their bodies.
I started signing it with autographs back in 2020 after enough fans asked me to. Now it's my go-to when I sign anything related to Hill House.
The line, for me, represents a lot of things.
It's about the insane, chaotic, non-linear experience of making that show. It's about trying to find and hold onto joy, even in the grips of despair.
It's about the way the moments of our lives aren't linear, not really, and how we may be unable to understand them as we exist in their flurry. It's about finding hope, innocence and forgiveness in the final reckoning.
And it's about how, outside of our love for each other, the rest is just... well, it's fleeting. It's colorful. It's overwhelming. It's blinding. It's dancing. And, if we look at it right, it's beautiful. But it's also light. It's tinsel. It flits and dances and falls and fades, it's as light as air.
The rest is the stuff that falls around us, and flits away into nothing.
It's the love that stays.
#haunting of hill house#the rest is confetti#that was a very long story#man I was not okay while we were shooting that#forgiveness#heal
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Thoughts on Angel Crowley & Healing from Trauma
(Minor Good Omens S2 Spoilers)
As someone who’s endured my own Trauma and dealt with the resulting PTSD, watching Crowley’s journey from a joyful, silly, and entirely innocent angel to a withdrawn, lonely, hyper-vigilant demon as a result of the Fall both shattered my heart and confronted me with the fact of myself, and I’d like to talk about it.
When you* experience Trauma, you experience an existential disorientation and a profound sense of grief over the world you thought you knew–one where you were safe and nothing bad had ever happened to you. “Innocence died screaming,” and all that.
You're also therefore mourning the loss of who you were, and struggling to make sense of who you are now. Which is why this conversation is so gut-wrenching:
“I know you.”
“You do not know me.”
“I knew the angel you were.”
“The angel you knew is not me.”
This dialogue admittedly still makes my eyes swim. It’s reminiscent of the many conversations I’ve had with people close to me who knew me Before and After. Not only are you grieving the loss of your own innocence, so are those around you, and it feels like you’re wearing their loved one’s face like a mask.
And then underneath the grief, there’s a river of–what you’ll later discover is misplaced–guilt. They want you to be who you were. Fuck, you also want to be who you were -- to not have experienced what you did -- but you can’t.
And when they catch a glimpse of something that reminds them of Before-You -- because it's not like that you has just up and vanished, you've just changed -- they say things like, “I feel like I have you back!” Like the After-You is a consolation prize, something to be tolerated while they wait for the Before-You to return.
It’s not malicious. They love you. They want you to be happy. But it just serves as a reminder of your loss and suddenly you’re acutely aware of how alone you are with the Thing that hurt you.
After trauma, you’re lonely and you're afraid. But those emotions make you feel quite naked, because both of those things would require you to depend on other people to feel better and, at this point, the thought of doing that is far too scary, so to the world, you’re angry. Thus begins the cyclical self-fulfilling prophecy.
And that cycle goes a bit like this: People see the mistrust and the bitterness and the volatility (the shield that keeps people at an arm's length and helps you feel safe). They don't see the profound sustained fear underneath, the desperate need to feel seen and accepted. And so people pull away.
And that real or perceived abandonment feeds the monster that’s taken up permanent residence in your ribcage and screams at all hours that you’re not worthy of love, that you’re irreparably broken, and you’ll always be alone. And you pull away from the people that love you. And the cycle repeats. And you start to believe all of the bad things about yourself that the monster tells you.
Being confronted with a character who you adore and who you also relate to closely is bittersweet in that it’s both immensely painful, but also offers you an opportunity to interrupt that cycle, to explore a different -- perhaps more forgiving -- lens through which to view yourself. To practice self-compassion by proxy, if you will. After all, we tend to extend far greater empathy and forgiveness to others than we do to ourselves.
Angel Crowley, "who squeaked and squealed when he was happy; who flailed his arms around and made explosion noises with his mouth to explain nebulas; who preened when told his stars were pretty,” (joycrispy) reminded me a lot of “Angel T,” or rather myself before Trauma.
And Crowley's story is tragic. I was heartbroken and angry for him; I felt the depth of the betrayal he experienced at the hands of someone he loved who he'd believed loved him; I found myself wanting to protect him, to comfort him. Crowley did not deserve what happened to him.
And, over a decade later, I realized that I’d finally accepted that I’d been an innocent, just like Crowley had, and I didn't deserve what happened to me, either.
And -- if you find yourself relating to this post -- neither did you.
Once we can tell ourselves that and actually believe it, we can start to lower the shield. We can allow people closer, including ourselves. We can bring the parts of ourselves we may have hidden away back to the surface. We can soften again. We can truly start to heal.
Crowley, at his core, remains the same. He is still kind, deeply loving, playful, silly, and – against all odds – hopeful. But his trauma has changed him; his innocence is gone.
He struggles to trust others; fears abandonment; engages in unhealthy coping mechanisms; finds it easier to prioritize and tend to Aziraphale's needs and desires than his own; and has difficulty expressing his emotions.
But he also gained an abundance of empathy, a deep love for humanity, and a strong sense of justice.
We adore Crowley exactly as he is now; we don't wish for him to be who he was before the Fall. And neither does Aziraphale.
In kind, we won’t be who we were — nor should we try to be — but we can be something new, a different version of ourselves that is equally good, equally worthy, and equally deserving of love.
After over a decade, I think my Trauma wound has mostly healed, as much as Trauma wounds can, anyway; it’s a dull ache rather than an acute pain. Yet Crowley's story assuaged that remaining hurt like a salve I hadn’t realized I needed.
So thank you to @neil-gaiman for giving us such a beautiful story, and to David Tennant, Michael Sheen, and the rest of the cast and crew who bring the characters we love to life on screen.
Good Omens truly is a gift. May it continue to inspire us to offer kindness and love to ourselves and one another. 🖤
* I am aware that I say “you” when I should use the singular first-person “I,” but I still struggle with this when talking about my own trauma. So I’m using “you” and you, reader, will deal with it x
#good omens#good omens season two#good omens 2 spoilers#aziraphale x crowley#anthony j crowley#angel crowley#anthony crowley#crowley#crowley good omens#good omens crowley#crowley trauma#gos2spoilers#go s2#go season 2#good omens 2#aziracrow#david tennant#good omens character analysis
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Indifference
Paring(s): Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
Summary: Two people who are in love, well he used to be
Authors note: you guys like when I make you cry
Rating: angsty
Warnings: it'll hurt :)
__________________
He was late.
Time was a funny thing. Minutes turned to hours which rolled into days then suddenly months began to blur into years. In that time, people tend to go out and experience things, falling in and out of love, enjoying everything life had to offer.
Yet, I somehow found myself motionless, the spark that once ignited my core had been stifled to a small ember. Life continued to pass by while I remained glued in one place, watching as everyone around me attempted to achieve some form of happiness.
I was once like that. Filled with some much hope for a life with someone I loved, who showed up to support me and believed in my capability, because at one time in my life that was exactly what Rafe was.
Like I said, time was a funny thing. The more time passes with your partner, the more comfortable they seem to get. They stop trying. However, at what point does being comfortable become almost negligent?
Dates were canceled, appointments missed, and important accomplishments forgotten the more time went on. Rafe’s priorities shifted and I went from being the center of his world to being a planet merely circling his gravitational pull.
In his mind, we were forever, so a couple of cancellations here and there and bouts of forgetfulness were nothing in the span of things. I would have agreed had the cancellations not doubled with time or our conversations going from intimate and deep to surface level at best.
He was never home. It was always just me in this large house on figure 8. Suddenly, he went from being the moon and the stars to just a bleak, unforgivable starless night. Cold and dark.
We had met when we were 16 and he was every bit a spoiled little rich boy that had extreme daddy issues, but there was more to him than that. I picked at his defenses until finally they shattered, and I was engulfed by all of him.
He was just different around me and that fact alone left me delighted. It made me feel special, almost stupidly so.
Things between Rafe and his father were already tense enough since Rafe bought a motorbike with the money he was supposed to spend on the generator. Then everything began to snowball out of control from there. He threw himself into his father’s work and when he wasn’t doing that, he was with Kells and Topper doing god knows what and snorting anything he could find.
Despite all of this, Rafe always kept me close and always let me in.
Last year, when Ward had gone with Sarah and John B to South America, and didn’t return, something shifted inside him. His defenses were rebuilt, only this time he left me on the outside, and no matter how hard I tried to break him down brick by brick, nothing worked. He became obsessed with running Ward’s real estate empire better than he ever did.
Rafe was a cold and calculated legacy with a large chip on his shoulder that made him lethal against competing firms. He chewed them up and spit them out.
With every major milestone, it was never enough for him, and like a man possessed he continued to ruthlessly target anyone that had done him wrong. We had everything and yet the bitterness seemed to consume him. He was someone I saw once a day if I was lucky. He always left before I woke up and was never home by the time I went to bed and suddenly we were glorified roommates.
Once upon a time, I would stay up waiting for him with my heart in my hand, hoping to connect in any way. Even if I only had a few minutes to spend with him before he went to sleep, it was enough for me. But, 10 pm became 11 pm which turned into 12 am and so I gave up. My sleep schedule was already a mess as thoughts and insecurities pestered my mind of another woman.
“Any word from him yet? Some of the donors are asking for him?” The question pulls me out of my thoughts and I turn to face my assistant, Rai.
Her question is innocent enough, but I can hear the slight concern in her voice and I know she has her doubts which only serves as another humiliating reminder that Rafe has done this to me repeatedly.
But this was different. He knew how important this charity dinner was to the shelter I opened up for women and children who suffered from domestic violence.
As someone who came from the cut, it was everywhere and so many didn’t have the means to flee and so they were forced to stay and in the most severe instances, die.
Rafe gave me the start-up money as a gift and it was a huge success that I opened several more as well as fund for scholarships for both the mothers and kids. Which is what brings me to now, a charity dinner and auction to help fund said scholarships and pay for all the shelter necessities.
He promised he would be here. It’s important for the donors to see him here seeing as though he donated a huge sum once more and could ease the minds of those who are teetering on the edge. It’s also important to me. This project is mine, something I created and shared with the world and I want to share it with him too.
I want him to celebrate this accomplishment with me and he is nowhere to be found.
“He’ll be here. Rafe promised.” I clear my throat, “He knows how important this is to me.”
Rai gave me a doubtful look and I know that I couldn’t convince her anymore than I could convince myself. The engagement ring that bore my finger instantly weighed a ton.
Glancing down at the large diamond that once meant the promise of everything, stared back at me as nothing more than a simple accessory.
Rafe had proposed and foolishly I believed that it would save us so I said yes.
I stayed and time and time again, the disappointment slowly began to etch away at the childish hope I tried to cling onto until only a dull ache remained.
“Don’t you look lovely?” Plastering a fake smile onto my face, I let out a sheepish laugh as I take in Kiara’s parents.
“Thank you guys so much for coming.” The words ring true but I couldn’t help but feel like I was underwater. My focus is shot and I find myself hardly listening with my eyes darting to the front door every minute or so, desperate to see the man I used to think would never stop loving me.
I float around the room, committed to being a gracious host, because I would not let him take this from me too. Not when he’s taken everything else already. This is the only piece left of me.
My cheeks hurt two hours later from all the fake smiles and my throat burns from the feigned laughing. The sound of my own voice makes me wince.
In those two hours, I felt my confidence slowly get chipped piece by piece as everyone questioned where my fiancé was. And for a moment, I hated him. I truly hated him because even this small piece of heaven I made for myself is tied into him.
Honey, I need to run some numbers with Rafe. Where is he hiding?
Where is the biggest investor? Surely, he’s here, right?
I haven't seen Mr. Cameron. Has he stepped out?
With which I responded,” Work emergency, you know how it is. He’s nothing if not committed.” Considering most of these possible donors run their own large companies, they completely understand but it’s their partners reactions that seem to leave me stunned.
Each had a warm look of understanding dancing in their eyes as I’m sure they’ve used the same excuse time and time again.
I can only take so much. So I excuse myself and glance at the small gold heart shaped watch on my delicate wrist and take note of the time.
There was only 30 minutes left and I haven't gotten so much as a text from him.
A pit began to form where my stomach used to be as I realized once more that he wasn’t coming. As I stood in a packed room, filled with a flurry of activity, surrounded by people, I’ve never felt more alone.
Then my eyes connect with Mrs. Dune, the wife of a finance guru that works alongside Rafe. She was much older than I, having been with her husband for 30 years but she looked even older.
It’s almost as though she can read my thoughts, because she sends me a sad smile as she lets her eyes go to where her husband stands talking to other donors. I haven't seen him talk to her the whole night, instead she’s been standing at his side saying nothing.
I take an uneven breath and my eyes widen in realization. Was this what I had to look forward to? A life sentence of loneliness vacant of any warmth and attention?
Swallowing hard, I force my eyes away and stare at the door. Begging whoever will listen to please, this once, let me be wrong. I’m so in my thoughts that I’m startled when a soft hand lands on my arm.
“You get used to it. Eventually, you’ll feel nothing.” Mrs. Dune says quietly, her eyes moving back to her husband, with a look I can only describe as longing.
That’s the thing. I don't want to get used to it. This isn’t how I want to be loved.
“What you’ve accomplished is amazing. Don’t let him take that away from you.” Was her parting words and she left, not sparing her husband another glance.
When I turn to see if he noticed she left, he’s still engaged in conversations and doesn’t spare her a glance.
This is not how I want to be loved.
“Hey, I’ve been looking for you. This is Amy Park.” Rai looks ecstatic as she introduces me to the stunning tall woman next to her.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Park.” The words come out on instinct.
“I wanted to discuss how open you would be to expanding shelters nationwide?”
And for the first time in awhile, a real smile graces my face as I answer her question.
_____________________
The first thing I notice when I pull into our driveway is the plethora of cars that fill it. The second thing I pick up on is familiar vibrations of music with each step I take along our pathway.
My front door is wide open as people come in and out, clearly under the influence of something and my chest constricts.
This is what he’s been doing? This was more important than me?
Clutching my keys tightly, I welcome the familiar biting against my skin. I recognize many of the faces, most of them having gone to school with Rafe.
If it was any other night, I would have joined them. We were only 22 and yet have lived what seems to be a hundred lives. But, this is different. He’s different.
Climbing up the staircase, I head to the balcony where I hear a familiar boast of laughter.
I cleared my throat. “What’s so funny?”
Heads snap in my direction but my eyes are only on one. One that currently has a short black haired girl nearly in his lap. I recognize her as a bartender at one of the local grills/bars we frequent.
“Don’t you look gorgeous-“ Topper attempts to run interference, but it’s too late. I raise my hand to silence him. I’ve already seen everything I needed too.
His body is positioned slightly in front of them as if I was going to body slam them. I might actually.
“Hey, wait! How did the donor dinner go?” Topper's eyes dart to Rafe’s. “That was tonight right?”
I see the moment everything clicks. His eyes rake down from my newly styled hair to the louboutins in my feet. Everything I wore from the jewelry on my body to the shoes on my feet he bought me, and I’ve never felt more sick.
Rafe clenches his eyes shut as he shakes his head. “Fuck.”
Fuck, indeed.
“Get out of my way, Topper.”
He throws a worried glance to Rafe. “I think maybe-“
“Top, give us a second.” Rafe mutters tensely. He keeps his hard set gaze on me, drilling into me, almost as though he’s daring me to move.
Kelce stands up giving me an apologetic look. “Rafe, man, there’s a bunch of people here.”
I force myself to look away.
“Not right now, Kells.”
He wasn’t wrong. This house was full of people, but the only difference being that none of them matter. Not to me and not to Rafe.
Steady. Keep steady and just breathe.
“So what should I do-“
I look at him. Me or them? It was unsaid but he knew what I was asking him.
“Back the fuck off and give me a fucking second with my girl.” Rafe barks out, running a rough hand through the short cropped strands that brush against his forehead.
Both hold their hands up in mock surrender before shuffling off to the side. The girl doesn’t get up.
Topper coughs. “Sophia.”
Her eyes take me in with clear distaste. Her hand is still dangerously close to Rafe’s waistband. I raise a single eyebrow giving her one last opportunity to move.
She doesn’t. Not when Kelce calls out for her either.
Sophia made her bed. Setting my bag down, I take three big steps before I’m roughly shoving her off the couch sending her sprawling on the floor.
Rafe let’s out a curse but makes no move to help her. At least he’s not stupid.
“Get out.” The words leave no room for negotiation.
The glare she sends me is filled with ice. “I was invited.”
Kelce lets out a groan before whispering,”Is she serious?”
The fake smile I’ve perfected over the years decorated my face as I bent down to her height on the floor.
Flashing my engagement ring in her face. “Get out of my fucking house.”
That seems to shut her up and I watch with narrowed eyes as she struts away, Topper and Kelce in tow.
I can hear my heart pounding in my ears while my chest feels like it’s going to explode. I turn around slowly to face my damnation.
My heels click against the marble floor and with each step I take, the more the ache in my chest grows. Marching up to Rafe, I grab his chin and force him to look at me. Those familiar glacial blue eyes are red. His pupils are blown wide and my chest cracks wide open.
He’s high.
This is not how I want to be loved.
This is what he wanted to do instead of being there for me. Instead of supporting me. Instead of loving me.
Dying would be less painful.
I stare directly into those eyes, searching for an answer, wondering when the love he felt for me slowly became indifference.
I’d almost rather there be a mistress rather than this cold indifference.
“Did you have fun at least?” My words are soft but the intention is anything but.
He says nothing. Instead Rafe studies me like I’m a wounded animal.
Dark. Beautiful. Cruel.
Those are the words I’d use to describe the man in front of me. The gaze that once felt like a soft caress on my skin now felt clinical.
“It seems like you’re having fun.” I quip, flicking the small bag filled with familiar white powder.
I thought I could fix him. I will not make that mistake again.
“I completely forgot-“
“How?” I ask.
His eyes narrow like he’s trying to figure me out. “Work got insanely busy. You know how it is. Even if I own the place, I’m young and the older guys don’t respect me.”
“It was in your work calendar.”
“No, it wasn’t-“
“It was also on your personal calendar and our joint one. I had your assistant send you a reminder email. So my question is how?” My voice wobbled and it was only by a small miracle that I didn’t throw something in his face. “How did you forget the only thing I’ve asked you for?”
Something flickered in his eyes. “It wasn’t intentional. It slipped my mind.”
“Something I worked so hard to accomplish just slipped your mind?” Exhaustion has finally got the better of me and I finally let him see just how much he’s managed to chip away.
“I should have been there for you and I’m so sorry,” His throat flexed a hard swallow. “But there will be other dinners.”
The dull ache in my chest thrummed harder. Rafe was brushing this off, just like he always did. My skin flushed.
At my silence, he braces his elbows on his knees and leans forward, tracking my every move. “I feel like you’re not understanding me.”
“No, I understand you just fine. It just wasn’t important enough for you.”
He stilled. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
Of course it wasn’t what he meant but he’s managed to make me feel so insignificant. So small.
“I know that you’ve canceled most of our dates for work. Even an anniversary once. I know that you missed the grand opening of the shelter that I spent a year and half planning.” I force the words out, each breath I take feeling like needles. “I asked for this one thing, Rafe and you couldn’t even give me that.”
“What about everything I have given you? This house, the car you drive in, the clothes on your back, the boat?”
It’s like I’m staring at 16 year old Rafe again. To him, material things were the equivalent to love. He couldn’t be farther from the truth.
I find that I was much happier when I had little to nothing, than I am now, sitting here with everything, in my gown and jewels.
“I didn't ask for any of those things.” By the stubborn gleam in his eyes, I knew he was going to fight me on everything.
Lately, his tactic was always combative and it was easier to give in or to not say anything at all.
“No, but you took them all the same. I fucked up, I get that. I know what this shelter means to you, but that doesn’t change the fact that you wouldn’t even have it if it weren’t for me.”
A familiar buzzing filled my ears. His words were ugly but they weren’t a lie. Even my project was his. I had nothing of my own.
I wonder how many other people came to the same revelation. Maybe that’s why so many of them asked where he was? Because this accomplishment wasn’t mine, no clearly it was his.
There is not enough room in my chest for the ache he caused.
Words can’t seem to make it to my lips. I think my brain has finally broken and realizes that no words I say will get him to change.
Smoothing out my dress, I stand on shaky legs before kicking off my heels. He can keep them. With that, I leave him out on the porch and make a beeline towards our his room.
Opening the closet doors, I reach for the suitcase before setting it on the bed. I wasn’t going to be like Mrs. Dune and waste away beside a man that used to love me, hoping that one day he will once more.
“What the fuck are you doing?” The words are hard and low.
Rafe stands at the door, his arms crossed over his chest. His face is brewing with several emotions I can't quite place.
It was funny. I haven't seen this much emotion from him in months.
I ignore him and toss some clothes from my dresser into the open suitcase, making sure to grab only the clothes I needed.
I slowly take off each piece of jewelry and set it on my vanity. He can keep everything he so gloriously mentioned he bought.
“You loved me once.” I state, tilting my head to the side. I rake over every detail of his face, knowing I’ll never forget it.
I loved him once too.
His face morphed to one of confusion before disbelief. “I still love you. That’s never changed.”
I shake my head. “Yes, it has.”
Rafe stalks towards me, his hand reaching to burl around my neck while the other pulls me to him by my waist. Familiar cologne fills my lungs and I count to ten mentally. It was the same cologne I bought him when we first started dating.
“I work too much, I know. That’s my fault and I’ll cut back. I’ll be home more and we can spend time together. I’ll do better.” Taking my chin between two fingers, he forces my eyes to his. I see the sincerity in his eyes but I know how this goes.
The same way it’s gone the last two times. He’ll beg me to stay, promise to change, and things will be good for a month before he slowly starts missing dates or canceling trips we’ve planned months before. Then the cycle repeats.
“No.” It was time to love myself. Since he clearly couldn’t do it. I will not allow myself to get lost in him again.
“Baby, just wait. Will you wait-“ He huffs as I try to move around him. No such success as his towering body has me moving back and suddenly I’m caged in by his arms. “Just give me a second, okay?”
“I’ve given you years. I won’t give you another second.”
“Talk to me.” His voice breaks. “Please just talk to me.”
Longing filled my body. Words I’ve been waiting to hear for months come so easily to him, but only when I already have one foot out the door.
“I’m alone.” The words come out strangled. “ I’m alone in this. I have been for a long time.”
“What do you mean? Baby, I’m right here.” Rafe’s gripping onto me tighter, almost like he’s ensuring I don’t leave. “I’m right here.”
“You're never here. That’s exactly my point.”
Rafe’s eyes widen before he shakes his head wildly, staring at me like I’m speaking another language. “That’s not true-“
“What’s today?”
“What?”
“What’s today?” I repeat, my eyes never leaving his. I want to see every emotion that storms in his eyes, just to remind myself that he is capable of emotion after all.
“Friday.”
I smile at him sadly. Exactly my point. “I haven't seen you since Tuesday.”
“No, that can’t be right. I was with you when we had lunch with-“ He breaks off, reaching for his phone in his pocket. I watch as he pulls up his calendar, an action that mortifies me, and confirms our scheduled date.
“Tuesday.” He whispers, shocked even.
I wasn’t. Rafe had to check his calendar to confirm that last time he’s seen his fiancé.
“You used to come bring me lunch. If you were more than a couple hours, you always found your way to me or gave me a call that you’ll be late.” I shrugged, blinking back the tears stinging my eyes. “Now, I don’t think I’d get a call if you were in the hospital.”
The buzzing in my ears intensifies.
“You didn’t tell me any of this. None of how you were feeling and you're ready to walk out the door without so much as an argument.” A spark of my old Rafe appears as frustration dances across his face.
“I should have-“
“You’re giving up.” He states, shaking his head in anger.
Maybe I was. “I’m tired of fighting for us. You gave up a long time ago.”
Large hands curl around my cheeks, pulling me towards his face. Rafe rests his forehead on mine, his piercing blue eyes darting across my face in panic.
“I love you. I love you.” He knows he’s grasping at straws, but we feel like strangers now. The words don’t feel like they used to. “You know I love you.”
“This isn’t how I want to be loved, Rafe. I see you every couple days, the only time we’re ever together is when we have sex.” We lost sight of how we once were. The only thing that remained good between us was sex.
That alone isn’t healthy. He goes to open his mouth but I cut him off.
“We never talk and when we do, you don’t even listen to me. Your brain is always somewhere else.”
“I’m in a relationship with a ghost. I’m not letting you suck the life out of me anymore.” My eyes catch the sparkling ring that once brought me such happiness. Now, it simply feels like a ball and chain.
Before I can convince myself otherwise, I start to tug it off my finger when Rafe truly begins to panic.
“Don’t do that. Please don’t do that.” I try to hand it to him but Rafe jolts back like he’s been burned. The look he gives my empty hand is nothing short of destroyed.
I think I’m going to throw up. His words are laced with raw grief that makes it hard for me to breathe.
“Put it back on.” I hear the slight tremble in his voice.
“No.” My lips wobble.
“Please put it back on because if you don’t that means we’re over. That’s not us. We aren’t supposed to end.”
“Rafe, don’t make this any harder than it already is.”
“You’re ripping my fucking heart out of my chest. This isn’t anywhere near hard, it’s excruciating.” Rafe’s hand is notably shaking, but he tries to hide it by clenching and unclenching his palms.
“Welcome to the last year of my life.” The words are brutal but he needs to hear them.
“You promised me we’d never end.”
“You promised to change. I guess we both lied.”
Rafe raises his voice, his arms thrown up in the air in clear distress, “How can you just stand there?”
It was a miracle I haven’t collapsed on my shaky legs yet. The adrenaline pumping though my veins was the only thing getting me through this torture. “Rafe, stop it.”
“You talk about indifference?” Rafe lets out a humorless laugh, shaking his head up at the ceiling. “Who’s heartless now, baby?”
“You don’t get to put this on me. I’ve given you years of my life, showered you with nothing but love and support. I asked for one night, one fucking night, in your busy schedule and you didn’t bother to show up, or send a simple text.” I intake a sharp breath, pushing the hair out of my face with a shaky hand. “Instead, you threw a party in our home and got high.”
I point a finger at his chest, staring at him with open heartbreak. “I needed you,” The tightness in my chest finally pops as I choke on a loud sob, “I needed you and you weren’t there.”
“I lost sight of what’s important to me. I’m just trying to give you everything-” I cut him off.
Grabbing the clothes I haphazardly tossed in the suitcase, ”You want this? Take it,” I shove them into his chest, “Take all of it. I don’t want it. I’d give this all away in a heartbeat if it meant I could have you back.”
I meant every word. I wanted my best friend back, the person I confided in and depended on. I wanted our late nights back watching trashy reality TV. We used to sit in the bathtub together basking in each other's company. Went on walks along the beach or took the boat out for hours, fucking on the deck, not caring that anyone could see.
It used to be simple. He loved me and I loved him.
“I’m angry, baby.I’m so damn angry all the time. At my fucking dad for always having these impossible expections. Then he goes and dies, leaving me without a clue on how to manage everything.” Rafe sags against the wall, exhaustion marring his features, his blue eyes pleading for me to understand. “I feel like I’m drowning all the time.”
I had no idea this was how he was feeling. But, he never let me in. “You could have told me, we’re supposed to be partners in this. You asked me to marry you!”
I think deep down I know that he felt me slipping through his fingers at one point. He could see clearly how unhappy I’ve become and that’s why he proposed. And maybe just like him, I thought the proposal could fix us. This proposal was being manipulated on both ends, it was doomed from the start.
You can’t fix what’s already broken.
“My head has basically been a war zone and I’m losing. The only thing keeping me sane is that I know, when I walk through that door,” he points to our bedroom door, “I’m going to find you in our bed. Every. Single. Night.”
“I can’t let the ugly touch you.” My heart splits into two at his words. Words I know feel like acid leaving his mouth. “You’re the only thing I have left.”
“Then you should have taken better care of me. You should have let me take care of you.”
“Fuck,” He screams, bending down and swiping the lamp clean of the nightstand. The lamp goes flying into the wall, shattering into hundreds of pieces and my eyes are drawn to them. I can’t help but think it reminds me of us.
Dragging my eyes back to his, I fight the urge to wrap him in my arms. Seeing him in pain has never brought me joy, but this was brutal. His eyes shined with unmistakable tears, realizing the strength of my resolve.
There was no going back this time. There was no trying again. I didn’t have another try in me.
I grip onto the fabric of my dress moving towards him, my heart pounding out of my chest. He moves instantly, holding out his hand to guide me over the shattered lamp. Why couldn’t he be like this months ago?
Why did he let it get this bad? Why couldn’t he love me?
Now, standing in front of him, I let myself one deep breath, basking in the comforting smell of him. A large hand curls around my neck, his grip strong and firm, demanding my attention. His blue eyes are daunting and so intense, I find myself fighting the urge to look away.
“I’m going to get you back.”
”Take it, Rafe.” I whisper, uncurling his limp hand, “Take it. It doesn’t mean what I want it to.”
Tears blur my vision as I fumble with the ring he refuses to take.
Rafe shakes his head, clenching his jaw tightly. “There’s no point in taking it off if it’s gonna go right back there in a couple weeks. ”
I can’t help but smile at the determination in his voice. He sounds like the old Rafe and for a second I see a glimmer of who he used to be.
He had me. Then he lost me.
This is not how I want to be loved.
“If spending the next few months without you means that I get to spend a lifetime with you, I can manage. I’ll do whatever I have to. But don’t think for a second that there is anyone else on this entire fucking planet meant for you.”
That’s how I want to be loved. Too little too late.
I drop the ring.
#outer banks#outer banks imagine#obx#rafe cameron#outerbanks rafe#rafe angst#rafe x reader#rafe smut#rafe obx#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron x reader#drew starkey#drew starky angst#outer banks fanfiction#outerbanks angst#obx angst#rafe cameron smut
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Better Than He Ever Was - MV1
This gif makes me feral - I am on my KNEES
Y/N is pregnant and Max is sweating
Related works: Mini Me Prodigy
When Y/N Verstappen found out she was pregnant with Fabian, Max was terrified. He was utterly, utterly terrified.
He played it well, cheering and happy smiles when Y/N showed him the pregnancy test. To everybody on the outside, he was the overjoyed father to be, talking about Y/N and their baby on the way any chance he got.
There were very few people who saw beneath the facade Max was putting on. The first was Christian Horner, who himself was like a father to Max. The next was Charles Leclerc, who was way too excited at rhe prospect of being an uncle that he forgot he wouldn't actually be related to the baby.
Both said the same thing: that Max should talk to Y/N about it.
But where was he to begin? How did he tell her, after seeing how happy she was, that he wasn't ready to have a baby.
When she started showing? Oh boy.
It was never something Y/N wanted to keep hidden. As soon as she had all the tests she had taken come back positive, she posted something to all of her social media's. Max did, too, playing his part well.
Y/N didn't wear baggy clothes to hide her bump; she showed it off with pride. At every single grand prix she'd be standing beside her husband, hand over her stomach and the press took pictures of them.
Most husbands, when their wife's baby bump began showing, would be over the moon. But when Y/N started showing, it just made Max more fearful.
Y/Ns very first proper indication of the was when they were discussing baby names.
Any moment she got, Y/N was writing down potential names. She had at least twenty of each.
"How do you like Felix?" Y/N asked him as they watched a movie together. Max had been sim racing all day; this was the first proper moment she'd had to spend with him. "Or Daniel?"
"Daniel can be the middle name if it's a boy," Max said as he fed her a Malteaser.
Y/N moved over to her list of girls names. "If it's a girl, I liked Mila. Thought Mila Verstappen had a really nice ring to it."
Max just hummed.
It was two weeks after that Y/N finally sat him down.
"What's going on with you?" She asked, her hand resting on her bump. That morning her snack of choice had been stroopwafels, and she'd accidentally finished the entire box (but who could blame her? They're addictive).
"What do you mean?" Asked Max as he lifted the box to see what he was inside. Nothing, empty. He made a mental note to buy more.
A terrible, horrible feeling settled in Y/Ns stomach. "Please, Maxie," she placed her hand over his, rubbing her thumb over his wrist. "Tell me what's going on. I'm begging you!"
Max let out a huff. He hated himself. "I love you," he said, which definitely wasn't concerning. "I love you so much and I know how excited you are to have our baby, but I don't know if I can do it."
Her heart was beating so loud she was sure Max could hear it. "Wha-what are you trying to say?"
"I'm trying to say that I'm so fucking scared, Y/N. I'm terrified of being a dad. What if I raise our child like my dad raised me and the kid ends up like me? I'd never be able to forgive myself if that happened."
Oh. This wasn't a dire as Y/N thought it was. This was something she could deal with. "Come here," she said softly and tried to pull his chair closer. Max shuffled over. He let Y/N wrap her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. "Do you remember last summer, when we went on holiday with my sister and her kids? Do you remember how they loved you so much that they wouldn't leave you alone?"
They'd rented out a villa. Max and Y/N had just come back from their honeymoon when Y/N's sister had invited them away.
As soon as they had their things unpacked, the kids grabbed their uncle Max's hands and dragged him into the pool. "Let's race!" The oldest shouted. Max was more than happy to oblige. He raced them to the other side of the pool and back, letting them win, of course.
When Y/N and his sister started on lunch, Max was blowing up the inflatable pool toys and looking after the baby. He was a natural with all three of them. Y/N watched them out of the window as she buttered the bread and passed it to her sister. That was when she realised how wonderful of a father Max was going to be. That was when she realised she wanted to have his children.
By the end of the holiday, the children were obsessed with him. According to Y/N's sister they didn't stop talking about him until at least two weeks after the holiday.
Max nodded his head. At first he'd been secretly reluctant to entertain the kids. But he loved it, and he actually found it fun. Of course, it wouldn't be the same when it was his own child.
"You're going to be an amazing father, Max. You're so kind and caring and kids love you. Plus, you're aware of how shitty your dad was to you, you know what you have to differently," she said, running her fingers through his hair. "I'll be there with you every step of the way," Y/N whispered and kissed the top of her head.
Max was still terrified, but he was trying not to be. But Y/N saw him change. He really did become that cheering and happy father he was pretending to be at the start.
Aside from Formula One, Max's life became getting Y/N whatever she and the baby were craving. Stroopwafels, mostly.
They discussed names more when Max became more comfortable. He was a big fan of Nora. Nora Sophie Verstappen. It had a very nice ring to it, Max thought. Little baby Nora.
They'd struggled to settle on a name for a boy. After Max had suggested his mothers name for the baby's middle name, Y/N was afraid Jos' name was going to be thrown into the mix. Not after all of Max's fears and anxiety. They'd decided Hugo, Hugo Verstappen was to be his name.
If it was up to Y/N, Jos wouldn't be in the child's life. But, of course, it wasn't just up to her. It was a decision she and Max had to make together.
When they found out they were having a little boy, Y/N and Max were over the moon. They decorated the nursery, painting the walls to be like a Formula One track. The bottom third was all grass, the middle was the track and the rest was blue skies with fluffy clouds.
The track went all the way around the room, with little race cars painted onto the track. There was a little Red Bull with a 33 on it, and a little Ferrari with a 16. It was a friend who painted it for them, going into intricate details for the cars and garages.
And then Y/N went into labour.
All of those fears Max had managed to get past came flooding back. His wife was about to give birth to his little boy.
Max wasn't much help through the delivery. Actually, through most of it he wasn't allowed in the delivery room, since he was panicking too much.
He wasn't a Hugo. That was what Y/N and Max decided the moment he was born. He was a Fabian. Fabian Hugo Verstappen. He was the most gorgeous little boy in the world. That was all Max could think as he stared at him, cradles in his wife's arms.
His son. His boy.
"Welcome to the world, Fabian Hugo Verstappen."
#max verstappen#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen smut#max verstappen x reader smut#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fluff#mv1#mv1 imagine#mv1 x reader#mv1 smut#mv1 x reader smut#f1#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula one imagine#formula one x reader#formula 1#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader
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Hello lovely,
I saw your post that your requests are open, so I will give it a try =)
Imagine Bucky and reader are best friends but they have a huge argument and now they don't talk to each other for days. She's feeling really bad, missing him. He is her most important person and now without interacting with him for days, she's feeling lost and lonely and heartbroken. Maybe she has not a super power and is only a normal human, helping the Avengers with IT or something. Due to the argument with her best friend and not talking to Bucky (Bucky ignores her completely) she begins to feel it not only mental but also physically. She can't eat probably and at the end falls deathly sick.... With a fluffy happy ending and a worried and protective Bucky
Please. That would be nice.
Take care honey
oh my goodness— my heart 😭❤️ the angst is gonna hurt, but i’m such a sucker for it. i had so much fun writing this one, thank you for requesting and i hope you like it🥰
Love Hurts
♡ Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
♡ Summary: You and Bucky get into a heated argument, things are said and done and now he won’t speak to you. You don’t think you can handle him ignoring your existence.
♡ Warnings: language, mentions of bucky’s trauma, heavy angst, malnourishment, depression, anxiety/panic attacks, minor injuries, hospitalization, suicidal ideation, self hate, literally hurt just writing this
main masterlist
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | MATURE CONTENT 18+
Your nails bit into your palm, denting the flesh— threatening to pierce the delicate skin. It was all to hold yourself back, distract you from the words that wanted to burst out.
It was becoming a sickening routine, Bucky was reckless and had yet another near death experience on his recent mission. The anxiety and the nerves stopping your body from functioning— the dreaded wait for his jet to arrive back at the compound. You shouldn’t have to be used of receiving the call that he had yet again made a reckless move— but you were starting to discover a pattern.
It did nothing to ease the panic that swirled in your chest every time he left for missions. You’d sob, throwing up everything you had eaten that day— unable to stomach anything with the idea that Bucky was on a mission. You never found your anxiety to be so severe— but when Bucky was even mentioned about going on a mission… it spiked.
That’s where you found yourself in his room, watching him pace the space— avoiding your frustrated stare. You weren’t angry at him per say— you were angry that he didn’t value his life.
“Seriously (Y/n)— you get so worked up over nothing. I’m here and alive— isn’t that enough?” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.
You pressed your nails tighter to your palm, yet the pain couldn’t stop your thundering thoughts.
“You’re here and alive now, until you do some stupid shit like this again and are dead!” You hissed, trying to keep your voice low but you didn’t know how much longer you could control yourself.
He glared at you, squinting his eyes in anger and then rolling his eyes.
“Oh for fucks sake— can you stop fucking babying me? I can handle myself!” He raised his voice, his metal arm whirring.
“I’m not babying you— I’m just scared you’re gonna get yourself killed. Do you care about your life at all?” You asked him aggressively, your voice raising just a tad.
He took a long pause, staring at you with his face void of emotion— only annoyance.
“Not really.” He admitted.
You were taken back, although you had these conversations with him a time or twenty. It was an ongoing process to get him to slowly love himself— his past as The Winter Soldier torturing his soul. He was so convinced he wasn’t deserving of anything, not even a roof over his head. It was a struggle to help him, but you weren’t going to give up on him.
“You realize if anything ever happened to you I—” Your voice broke, needing a breath, “Buck I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”
You thought you saw his eyes flash with guilt, but before you could linger on the look for too long— his face was hardening again.
“That doesn’t sound like my problem.” He mumbled out, making your eyes widen.
You were extremely taken back from those words, your chest aching painfully— him not knowing what effect those words had on you.
“Are you fucking serious?” You asked him, your face morphing into a hurt expression, mixed with anger. “Can you just do your job without trying to kill yourself?”
His face grew red with rage and he was stomping up towards you— his face inches from yours.
“I am doing my job— very well in fact. Unlike you who just fucking sits here doing nothing!” He defended himself, his breath hitting your face in warm pants.
“Doing nothing? Buck— why are you like this?” You puffed your chest, not backing down from his towering form.
But your words seemed to have hit a nerve, as he shrunk back slightly, narrowing his gaze at you.
“Like what?”
You furrowed your brows, slowing your racing heart from the shouting— you weren’t sure you had said anything bad. Did you?
“What?” You squeaked out, nervous now.
“You said, why am I like this… like what?” He pushed, stepping closer to you now, his face still red with anger but you could see the hurt in his eyes.
You swallowed and wondered how to convince him you didn’t mean anything bad by what you said. But you were almost positive it would be an impossible task to get Bucky to listen.
“Buck, I didn’t mean anythin—”
“What— you think I’m not capable of doing my job? You think I’m still the monster hydra made me?” He spat, his chest rising and falling quicker.
“No, no Buck listen—”
That was definitely not what you meant, you could tell he was spiraling and you were still confused as to why. You would never make him think that.
“After 70 fucking years I finally have a job that I like— that I enjoy doing— I fucking help people! I’m finally doing some good and now you’re telling me I’m not capable of doing it?” He boomed, his chest puffing into yours and your stumbled back slightly. “You think I’m only capable of being a monster? Huh? Is that what you fucking think?”
You were growing scared now, the look in his eyes wild with something and you didn’t like how close he was to you— you knew he’d never hurt you but your fear overwhelmed your senses.
“Friday— call Steve and Sam in here now!” You shouted into the room, and Bucky’s eyes squinted painfully— his metal arm whirring again.
Bucky only saw one thing— you didn’t reassure him that he was thinking irrationally. You didn’t correct him that he wasn’t the monster. Instead you called for help, that you were clearly scared— because you thought he was a monster.
He was at a loss for words and just stared at you, almost through you— as his breathing was only getting heavier at the sight of your fearful eyes.
Not even minutes later, Steve and Sam were busting through the door, taking in the scene and separated you and Bucky.
“Hey— what’s going on?” Steve asked in between the two of you. “Buck, what’s wrong man?”
You couldn’t seem to find the words and just stood speechless as well— the fight startling you. This was one of the worst ones, and it was also one that still left you confused. You cursed yourself for not being careful enough with your words— but it was almost impossible to get through to him when he was on the brink of having an episode.
Sam walked closer to you, his facing morphing into concern as he took in your shocked expression.
“(Y/n)? You okay? Did he hurt you?” Sam whispered, keeping his words only between you two.
You slowly shook your head but still didn’t respond verbally.
“Okay, okay that’s good. You wanna go get a drink from downstairs? Why don’t we take a breather okay?” Sam suggested softly, big brother mode kicking in at the sight of your frazzled state.
Without another word, you left the room with Sam— missing the devastated look from Bucky.
Steve waited until the door shut, then his attention was back on Bucky.
“Buck, you gotta talk to me man— what happened?” He asked softly, watching his friend slowly relax, but it wasn’t from being in a relaxing mood— his body and mind were just exhausted from the argument.
“I fucked everything up. That’s what happened.” He mumbled, turning away from Steve to sit on the edge of his bed.
Steve followed behind but stood in front of him, shaking his head— ready to argue.
“You didn’t mess anything up, arguments happen. You guys will work it out. I know how much you mean to each other.” Steve pointed out, watching Bucky’s face unchanging.
“You didn’t see the way she looked at me— she’s scared of me I—” He shuttered, his breath shaky as he remembered your look, “I fucking scared her.”
Steve’s chest ached, the state of his friend breaking his heart. He knew Bucky meant no harm, and he almost for a fact knew that you knew that too. But Bucky for sure didn’t believe that himself.
“I didn’t see what you saw, but I can guarantee you that she’s not afraid of you. This is (Y/n) we are talking about. You are her world Buck.” Steve tried to convince him.
Bucky shook his head, running his flesh hand through his hair.
“I think I just need to stay away from her for awhile.” Bucky came up with instead.
Steve immediately started shaking his head, knowing that was the last thing he needed.
“Bucky I—”
“Please Steve… I just need some space.” Bucky pleaded, his body sagging in exhaustion.
Steve couldn’t find it in himself to argue with him anymore about this. Maybe he did need some time to himself, to cool down and gather his thoughts. Also Steve wasn’t going to force him to anything ever. After the years his pal went through— he would never make him do anything. He had enough things decided for him, and Steve wasn’t about to stoop to hydra’s level.
Meanwhile down in the kitchen, Sam was getting you a glass of water— standing across from your seated form at the island. He slid the cup across, sending a worried glance at you.
“(Y/n)?” Sam snapped his fingers getting your attention.
You were shaken from your state of staring, but even snapped out of the trance— the anxieties still swirled within you.
“Yeah sorry… I’m here.” You whispered, grabbing the glass and taking a tiny sip.
Sam gave you a quizzical expression, watching you start to slip back into a mindless stare— so he spoke up.
“You wanna tell me what happened?” He asked, genuinely curious what had went down.
He knew— hell everyone knew you and Bucky were extremely close. Best of friends, always there for one another— dancing on the line of strictly friends to lovers. Truthfully, Sam found it completely obnoxious and just wanted you two together already.
“I don’t really know… I think I said the wrong thing— I didn’t mean to make him upset.” You confessed, keeping your eyes on the countertop, not risking a glance to Sam.
“Hey, don’t beat yourself up— mistakes happen. I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” Sam told you.
You shook your head, gripping the cup tighter.
“God I hope so… I don’t know what I’d do without him.” You whispered pathetically, tears welling in your eyes.
Sam reached out to rub your arm comfortingly, trying to relax you so you didn’t start crying. He hated to see you cry— made his heart hurt.
“It’s been a long day for everyone, why don’t you go head upstairs and get some sleep. I’m sure things will have blown over by tomorrow.” He suggested and you finally met his gaze, smiling weakly and nodding.
Without saying goodbye, you stood up and headed to your room. Taking Sam’s words and playing them on repeat in your head.
Tomorrow is another day, tomorrow would be better.
God had you hoped that was the case— it only was the beginning on the torment.
You had slept in longer than usual, but overall felt refreshed. The first thing that came to mind when fully waking up was Bucky. Immediately you headed downstairs to find him— needing to talk with him— apologize.
Making it down to the kitchen, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in at the sight of him sitting at the island— sipping at his coffee. You furrowed your brows, thinking he'd be done with his coffee by now, since you had slept in. Your chest ached with guilt with the possibility that he didn't sleep well.
You took a deep breath before making yourself known, although you were sure be could sense you in the room— considering he was a super soldier.
"Morning Buck." You announced, walking around the island so you could face him.
He kept his gaze down at his coffee, finding the cup more interesting than you.
Okay, that’s fair. You thought, you most probably deserved that reaction.
“You sleep okay?” You asked again, picking at the skin on your nails nervously.
Again— he didn’t even lift his head. In fact, he wasn’t even acknowledging you. You waited several minutes for a response, the silence becoming thick with tension and you couldn’t stand it.
“Bucky?” You tried, and this time he lifted his head.
Your heart twinged in your chest at his bloodshot eyes, clear evidence that he hadn’t gotten good sleep. You hated yourself for causing him the stress, especially knowing he was just starting to actually get hours of sleep. It was huge progress compared to his nights either screaming awake or just staring at the walls. But now you had to go and ruin all that progress. You felt sick to your stomach— disgusted with yourself.
“I’m really sorry about last night… I didn’t like how ugly it got and I’m sorry if I said something to upset you— you know I’d never intentionally hurt you.” You told him, picking more aggressively at your nails, causing to nail beds to bleed.
You swallowed nervously when he didn’t answer right away, instead staring at you with… what was that? Disgust? You didn’t know, but you hated the look altogether.
“Bucky, please say something.” You pleaded.
Bucky lowered his gaze to his coffee again, taking a minute before he stood up and looked your way.
“I just need some space.” He told you quietly.
You were relived to have him finally talk to you, but to hear him suggest space between you two— you could almost feel the knife digging into your chest. You tried to keep a neutral expression but otherwise felt your bottom lip quiver.
Without giving you time to respond, Bucky was walking out of the room— leaving you standing there speechless, lungs begging for air. You didn’t want your mind to go immediately to that thought, but you couldn’t ignore it either— he hated you.
“Hey babe, I need you to help me out in the lab tod—” Tony came busting into the room, but immediately shut up once he saw your broken expression. “Honey, what’s wrong? You alright?”
You nodded your head, lying to him and yourself and started waving him off with the fakest smile.
“Yeah— yeah I’m good. Just need to uh— need to get some things done.” You told him, your eyes darting all around the room, the familiar feeling of panic seeping into your being.
Tony gave you a ‘really?’ look and stepped closer to you.
“(Y/n) I’m not blind— I can see you’re upset. Talk to m—”
“Seriously Tony— I’m fine! Just leave it alone!” You told him a little too aggressively.
His face was taken back and you felt guilty immediately, cursing yourself for hurting everyone.
Why are you such a fucking issue? Your mind screamed at you.
You didn’t waste another second and sped walked out of the room, needing to calm yourself down before you ran into any one else. You were spiraling and you needed to just relax— take a deep breath. Maybe you just needed one more day and things would be back to normal.
Yeah… just one more day.
You had hoped that was the case as well… but as always— things only got worse.
Bucky refused to talk to you or even look at you. He’d given you the cold shoulder for almost two weeks now. He would get up and leave the second you entered the room. He couldn’t stand you it seemed.
You couldn’t keep hiding your hurt. At first, you had done a good job at hiding how you were really feeling. Saving the sobbing and attacks for when you were alone in your room. As the days lingered on, you found yourself weak and drained— you didn’t have enough energy to put up a charade anymore.
The whole team were sending you worried looks, and attempted to talk with you. But the second they’d try— you’d bolt. The subject was too sensitive, too raw. You didn’t want to talk to anyone but Bucky— and he hated you.
You had missed so many meals, forgetting to eat with your mental struggles throughout the days. You had been getting no more than two hours of sleep. You were so stressed, so stuck in your own mind that you couldn’t function. Even when you had managed to remember to eat, your stomach would knot up to the point that you were throwing everything up. You were gaunt, basically a real life zombie. You needed help— but you needed Bucky more.
You were laying in bed staring unknowingly into space, it had been hard to focus with no food or sleep in your system— so you had only managed to lay here. Even that was exhausting, no matter how much you laid around— your mind wouldn’t stop the assault. Your anxiety had never been this bad, you were a prisoner to it.
Knocking at your door had you jumping, your heart racing— and for a moment you forgot where you were.
You’re in the compound… yeah that’s right.
You slowed your breathing and swung your legs sluggishly over the edge of the bed to answer it. You weren’t prepared for the sudden dizzy spell, your vision spotting with black and white specks. You tried to blink it off, but suddenly you were toppling to the ground.
You fell to the floor with a loud thump, luckily landing on your front, your hands somehow catching most of your fall— you could already feel the throbbing in your palms.
You didn’t hear the persistent knocking, or the door open. You didn’t even hear the voice speaking from the doorway. It was when a hand landed on your shoulder that you were gasping, forgetting your surroundings once again.
Your eyes met Steve’s and you swore your heart was about to beat out of your chest.
“(Y/n) are you alright?” He asked you, hovering his hands over you— not sure what you had hurt.
You furrowed your brows, looking him over.
“Steve what are… what are you doing here?” You asked genuinely confused.
You watched Steve’s eyes widen and he swallowed nervously— his expression growing more concerned.
“(Y/n) it’s okay… I’ve got you.” Steve hushed, and he was pulling you into his chest, hugging you protectively.
You were still confused but then you tasted one of your stray tears, and you immediately came to your senses. You were crying in Steve’s arms… but why? You were having gaps of time missing from you, this wasn’t the first time this had happened— you just didn’t seem to care.
“Steve… my head hurts.” You slurred into his chest, sagging against him.
You were grateful that he was here, you desperately needed someone around. You were just hoping that someone would’ve been Bucky.
“Okay, let’s get you to Helen. She’s gonna take care of you, okay?” Steve asked you, and you could only give a weak nod.
He knew there was no way you were walking there, so he hoisted you up into his arms, and cradled your head as he started to the med bay.
You just stared blankly at his chest, not really caring if Steve were to throw you off the roof of the building. You just didn’t care.
Steve had gotten you down to her, and she checked you out. Alerting Steve that you were extremely malnourished, dehydrated— an insomniac. She kept listing off all the things Steve was afraid to hear. The whole time he was sure you didn’t hear a thing, although you were in the room— you were just checked out.
Helen eventually left, and Steve took his opportunity to speak with you. He pulled up a chair next to the hospital bed and grabbed your hand.
“(Y/n), what’s going on? You can talk to me— you can’t keep doing this to yourself. Please… just talk to me.” Steve whispered, pleading with you that you would stop torturing yourself.
“He hates me.” You mumbled.
Steve’s eyes widened and he frowned, knowing what you meant. He knew he let this go on for too long.
“(Y/n) he doesn’t hate you. He just needed time to himself, so he co—”
“I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, I don’t even know what I said to hurt him but I—” You rushed out, the heart monitor beeping frantically, “I’m a horrible person, I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to!”
You wheezed out, clutching your chest as you couldn’t catch your breath. Your cheeks glistened with a steady stream of tears, your wheezing only growing by the second.
“Okay, okay (Y/n)— I need you to slow your breathing. You’re okay, he doesn’t hate you. Just take deep breaths okay— even if you can’t just try. I’m here.” He tried to coach you, but this wasn’t his thing.
Now he was starting to get mad at his friend, Bucky shouldn’t of let this go on for this long.
You followed his chest rising and falling, staring at him as he tried to calm you down. Your breaths were heavy and painful sounding. Steve was about to say something but stopped himself when he saw your eyes look behind him.
He turned and saw Bucky standing in the doorway— his face paled. Truthfully, he looked like he was going to be sick.
“(Y/n)?” He whispered, his heart breaking at your state.
He had ran into Helen in the kitchen and was informed of your condition— he didn’t believe it and had to see for himself. He was shocked to find you like this.
Your tears only edged on from his appearance and you shook your head in shame.
“I’m sorry Bucky! Whatever I did, I’m sorry!” You sobbed and Bucky ran to the bed, kneeling down and taking your hands into his.
“Doll it’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here— I’m here. I’m not gonna leave you… I’m sorry.” He rushed out, shushing your cries, watching you slow your breathing at his words. “There we go, just keep breathing with me. I’m here, you’re okay.”
He kept repeating himself, making sure you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.
Steve knew you were in good hands and slowly snuck out of the room— knowing you two needed to talk.
Bucky tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your cheek to your jaw. You couldn’t help the way your face leaned into his touch, it felt like it had been forever since the last one.
Your breathing had slowed down, and now you just stared up at him— eyes glossy with more tears. You felt so many emotions. You felt relived, but also angry and hurt. Above all— you needed to know what you did to upset him. The guilt still ate away at your heart, and even just the memory of the argument had your chest aching.
“What did I do?” You whispered, making his eyes shoot up to yours, concern painting his face.
“You didn’t do anything.” He told you, and you furrowed your brows.
You were still anxious— he hadn’t answered your question. Even more so— if you didn’t do anything then why did he ignore you?
“Then why?”
“Why what (Y/n)?” He dared to ask, and you scoffed— ripping your hands out of his.
The anger was approaching.
“Why did you shut me out?” You wondered, and he only let his eyes cast down to the bed— making you angrier. “You ignored me for two weeks! Two fucking weeks you just acted as if I didn’t exist! Do you know how much that fucking hurts?”
You were breathing heavy again, but this time it wasn’t from panic— it was the full force of all your anger bursting out.
He lifted his eyes to you, and you saw how broken he looked. How your state had affected him.
“I could never do that to you Buck— I would never do that to you! You’re my everything! I don’t trust anyone as much as I trust you!” You raised your voice, while he stayed silent. “If I didn’t do anything then why would you— why—”
You broke out into a sob, covering your face with your hands. You felt good getting all the built up anger out— but now you felt extremely guilty. The pitiful face of Bucky staring at you, causing your heart to hurt all over again. It didn’t matter what happened, you always ended up hurting others.
“(Y/n) I’m so sorry I— god I fucked up. I didn’t ever mean to hurt you, please know that. You’re my other half, and no one has ever been there for me like you have.” He spoke through a tight throat, swelling with emotion.
You uncovered your face and just stared at him a little longer, still incredibly hurt from his actions— but you knew you couldn’t stay mad at him. You so badly wanted to forgive and forget— and just wrap him in your arms like you both needed.
“It’s hard to explain what’s wrong with me to someone when I don’t even understand what’s wrong with me— I just know I’m fucked up. I’m broken beyond repair.” His voice broke, his own eyes welling with tears.
You didn’t have it in you to keep up an angry facade, and so you reached out and took his hand in yours. His face almost immediately lit up, his breathing slowing at your touch.
“Try me.” You whispered, watching Bucky take a deep breath before he spoke again.
“The night of our fight…” He started, and you swallowed in having to remember that night. “I had never seen you look at me like that.”
You stayed silent, afraid to open your mouth and have a sob escape. You could feel it bubbling up— the memory playing back through your mind.
“You looked at me like you were scared. You looked at me like I was a monster.” He confessed and it all made sense to you now.
It wasn’t about what you said, it was your reaction that disturbed him to no ends. Even if you couldn’t control your reaction in the moment— you still felt guilty for causing him pain of remembering the hydra days.
“Oh Buck…” You whimpered, trying to pull him close— but he pulled away before he could reach your embrace.
“No— you don’t get to be nice to me after what I did. I promised I would never hurt you and I did— you’re in here because of me! I don’t deserve your forgiveness!” He raised his voice, and you weren��t scared of him— just concerned.
“I wasn’t scared of you Bucky, you just caught me off guard. Things were heated— I’m not afraid of you and I most definitely don’t think you’re a monster.” You tried to convince him.
“I really hope you’re not lying because if you were afraid of me… god I don’t know what I’d do. If you never wanted to see me again— that’s fine. Whatever you want, but I can’t live knowing you’re afraid of me.” He whimpered out.
“I wouldn’t lie to you.”
He nodded his head, knowing damn well you’d never lie. That was one thing he loved about you— you were so honest. Keeping it real with him, even if he didn’t wanna hear it. He could count on you for the truth.
“I still don’t deserve your forgiveness.” He argued.
“Well too bad, I’m forgiving you anyway.” You finally told him and he felt his chest expand.
Like he could finally breath.
“Why?” He wondered.
You knew it was the line you two had been dancing on forever— but you knew if there was ever a time to say it. It was now.
“Because I love you.” You admitted quietly.
His eyes widened just slightly, and his breath stuttered. He had always had a feeling what you two had was more than friends, he just never spoke up about it. Of course he loves you too— god he loves you so much. That’s why the thought of you being scared of him was enough to pull him away. He couldn’t bear being around you if you were frightened by him. He couldn’t live with himself. More importantly he now discovered, he really couldn’t live without you.
“I love you so much.” He confessed back as your tears leaked down your cheeks.
You pulled his arm, and he let you pull him to the bed— close enough where you could cup both his cheeks.
“Don’t ever do that to me again, please. I need you Bucky— life is not livable without you.” You cried, kissing his forehead to which he leaned into your lips.
“Never again— I promise.”
This time, he wouldn’t break it.
to be added to a taglist
TAGLIST: @engie115 @kmc1989 @ghostofwinter @silverfire13 @goldylions @potatothots @billy-reads @hanihoney88 @skittle479 @hereticdance @mentalidrainedfangirl @natashassandwich @marvelogic @soul-system @alinasmcu @almosttoopizza @lilbabygirll @sebastiansstanswhore @yujyujj @jasminocano
#bucky barnes#sebastian stan#the winter soldier#marvel cinematic universe#reader insert#buckybarnes#marvel imagines#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes angst#protective bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x female reader#hurt/comfort fic#james buchanan barnes#beefy bucky barnes#theleggymeggy fics#fluffy#heavy angst#I write so much sadness I swear im okay#thank you for requesting!
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Patrick Bateman with Dominant Male S/o
My Stories are meant for the much more mature audience, 18+
Backstory: Patrick had always mistaken his jealousy for you to be out of wanting what you want, to be like you, when it was in fact that Patrick was jealous because he couldn't be with you. Patrick wants to show you how much he wants you, by getting on his knees like a good boy. (BTW you're his boss)
Warnings: Needy Patrick Bateman. Bratty Patrick Bateman. Submissive Patrick bateman
"Mr. Bateman?"
His assistant's voice was drowned out by his raving thoughts, his still face urked something deeper on the inside. Patrick's breath halted as he watched you enter the meeting room.
Patrick''s eyes fixated on you, the object of his all-consuming fixation, You, wearing a designer suit so exquisitely tailored.
"The stitching was so fine that it could have been performed by angels, and the black silk tie, perfectly knotted, was a stark contrast to the snowy white dress shirt beneath. His cuffs peeked out just enough, revealing pristine, perfectly aligned links that seemed to shimmer in the ambient light."
Patrick's inner monologue continued to obsess over your suit and how it was tailor-made, and it made Patrick grit his teeth a bit that you one-upped him with your tailor-made, and currently-in-style suit.
Patrick was snapped out of his intense thinking as you greeted him, your large and veiny hand, taking in his own. "Pleasure, once again Mr Bateman." Your humble and husky voice rang. Patrick gave a fake smile. "Of course." You could tell that Patrick held back his greetings of praise was that jealousy written on his face?
The business meeting continued on normally, Patrick always sparing you passing glances, a mixture of emotions displayed in his eyes.
<>><<>>><<>>><><><><><<<>>
The next scene was at Dorsia, the place Patrick could never get into, but he was oh so shocked to receive an invitation from you of all people.
But Patrick was just happy he could get in, he wore a fake smile, his best suit, and a pretty woman at his side. Patrick's smile instantly fell when he saw you, with a breathtaking woman, more beautiful than the one at his side.
But it wasn't jealousy of the woman you had, it was something more, that Patrick couldn't place just yet.
"Don't worry, the meal is on me." You politely stated, as Patrick's intense gaze lifted up from the menu and onto you for a brief moment, a mutter under his breath, something incoherent, but, you could tell he was mocking you.
Slowly you rested your face lightly on your knuckles amused by him, how come you have never noticed such a handsome yet bratty worker?
Not only that but when the waiter came over, you saw a sinister grin place itself on Patrick's face as he smiled showing off his pearly teeth. "I think I'll indulge in the 'Golden Elixir of Ostentation,'" Patrick said purposely ordering the most expensive alcoholic beverage on the menu, he was clearly reveling in his choice.
It seemed he was expecting you to protest in a sense, but you straightened up your posture a bit and gave a small nod. "Make that two bottles."
"The bratty veneer I had carefully cultivated crumbled away. It was a sensation I hadn't felt in a long time - the desire to submit."
Patrick had thought. His face fell into one of stillness and unease.
<>><<>>><<>>><><><><><<<>>
Patrick opened his mouth, letting your fingers enter.
Patrick's tongue rolled around, licking and slurping on your fingers, as he then began to suck, maintaining eye contact with you. On his knees, in your fancy penthouse is where the current setting was.
Patrick was already stripped of most of his suit, his suit's jacket laying somewhere, Tie gone, his white dress shirt unbuttoned nearly fully, his hair a mess.
"[Name].." Patrick's voice was muffled and breathless as he tried to speak with your fingers in his mouth, his eyes were a bit droopy with lust.
"In that instant, the power dynamics shifted, and I found myself navigating a treacherous new territory, craving his attention and approval more than ever before." --- Patrick Bateman.
#male reader#patrick bateman#patrick bateman x reader#x male reader#american psycho#patrick bateman x male reader#Slasher x reader#Slasher x male reader#Bottom Patrick Bateman#gay patrick bateman#slashers x male reader#slashers x you#slasher imagines#patrick bateman imagine#slasher imagine
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Mornin', Birthday girl
Pairing: No-outbreak!Joel Miller x reader
Summary: it's your birthday, and Joel and your daughters have planned the perfect morning
Warnings: A bunch of overly fluffy smut (cause, as we've established, im delusional): Oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, creampie.
a/n: Guess what, it's my b-day!!! And since I'm delulu I wrote myself a little birthday fic as a present (the fact that this is not my real life is such bullshit tbh) and i thought why not post it on here? maybe today's someone else's birthday too and that would be a nice surprise for them, no?
Sleep was still holding you captive when Joel started positioning himself, making the bed creak with his every movement and cussing internally each time, until finally, he was where he needed to be, right between your thighs.
And what a place to be.
A soft smile pulled at his lips as he watched you peacefully sleeping, your mouth slightly parted, your chest slowly rising and falling... You looked like an angel even when asleep, and his heart filled with that warmth only you knew how to create.
But enough of that, he had to get to work before you woke up.
He gingerly placed his hands on the outer side of your thighs, before slowly, oh so slowly, leaning down to start a trail of small kisses from your navel down to your clit, feeling your body react to his every move.
You still hadn't woken when he glanced up, so for good measure, he flattened his tongue and licked your whole slit like an ice cream cone, and like clockwork, your eyes snapped open.
"b-baby?" your voice was more of a whisper as you finally found the source of your sudden awakening.
"Good mornin', birthday girl" Joel murmured, wasting no time before bending down to taste you again.
"oh my god" you whimpered, having woken from a dream just to get thrown into a new one.
Good morning indeed
"I might just get used to this" A breathy chuckle left your lips, as he licked and sucked your cunt like it was his duty.
"Oh yeah?" the vibrations of his voice made a shiver run up your spine as he answered "I might too" he smirked "I'll just start having you for breakfast"
Your ability to tease and speak quickly disappeared when two of his thick digits plunged into your heat.
"Oh f-fuck" you choked, your hand quickly reaching for his locks to have something to hold onto as he started curling and moving his fingers inside of you, and his mouth closed on your bud to suck on it greedily.
"O-Oh- baby" your back arched from the bed, as he groaned at the feel of your walls tightening around him.
"fuck, you're delicious darlin'"
but you could only hum a low "Oh god" as your legs wrapped around him and your hips started desperately grinding on his face of their own accord.
It didn't take long before your orgasm was approaching, and your legs were shaking.
"C'mon mama" he murmured "Give it to me"
And that's all you needed.
Joel watched hypnotized as you threw your head back, your left hand going to your tits as your right hand gripped his hair for dear life.
He didn't stop, letting you ride out your high until your breathing had become more even, and your fingers in his hair had relaxed.
A soft smile pulled at his lips as he crawled up to meet his lips with yours in a sweet kiss.
"Happy birthday, sugar" he beamed
"thank you, baby" you whispered, one of your hands reaching for his cheek to guide him down for another kiss.
And as the kiss grew hotter, and his hands started roaming every inch of your body, you reached for the bulge in his boxers you could feel rubbing against you.
He groaned into your mouth as you freed his cock and started slowly pumping it.
"fuck" he breathed, leaning down to reserve some attention for your neck "Today's only about you, darlin'" he murmured to your ear, as he took his dick from your hand "let me take care of my wife like she deserves"
You beamed happily at his words, closing your eyes as you felt him position his tip at your entrance until-
"wait" your eyes widened
"what, sugar?"
"is the door locked?"
Joel grinned "Yeah sweetheart"
"oh" you breathed a sigh of relief "ok"
You learned the hard, and very embarrassing way, the importance of a lock to your bedroom door when having two incredibly nosy children.
You tried to get back to your previous excitement when you heard a faint buzz coming from outside your room.
"Is that...music?"
Joel's head fell to your shoulder in frustration as a soft chuckle fled his throat
"It is" he answered, kissing your neck "I told the girls to put on some music"
You frowned "Why?"
A mischievous smirk pulled at his lips as he leaned up to look at you.
"So that you can make all those pretty sounds you love to make"
Your mouth opened to say something, but all you could do was grin like an idiot.
"You're the perfect man, Joel Miller"
"mh" he considered, kissing the corner of your mouth as he got back to positioning his manhood to your entrance "Only 'cause you're the perfect woman, sweetheart"
And with one slow thrust, he was filling you to the brim, and for once, you could cry out like you always wanted to.
"Jesus Christ" he groaned into your neck "always so tight f'me sugar"
"oh my god" you moaned, as he started to move, finding a slow but, oh so fucking deep pace that made your eyes roll to the back of your head.
"I love you so much baby" he breathed, as he hit that spongey spot inside of you with each thrust "I don't know what I did to deserve you, but-" he paused to take a breather as your pussy squeezed him so good it was getting hard to breathe "but christ darlin' I'm thankful for you every day"
"J-Joel" you whimpered as your eyes watered and your hands clawed at his back "I love you too, baby" you promised, "I love you so so much" you murmured, nestling your face in his hair as your breathing got more and more ragged, and the mixture of his lips on your skin and his cock deep inside you started to get too much.
The bed was creaking with every thrust, and the sound of his skin meeting with yours was filling the room, but your hearing had become fainter... like you were still dreaming and the only real thing was Joel's broad body hovering over yours, and your impending orgasm
"o-oh god" you cried,
"let go baby" he murmured, sucking on a spot just beneath your ear as he kept pounding you like he wanted to split you in half "Come for me"
And that was it. Your vision went blank and the world went mute for a minute as a wave of pure pleasure took over your entire body.
Joel kept going, trying to last as much as he could for you, but once you let out yet another breathy moan resembling his name, he couldn't do it anymore, and filled you up completely with his cum.
Silence spread as you both tried to learn how to breathe again, but after a good minute, Joel finally reemerged from the crook of your neck to kiss your lips.
"Let me clean you up" he spoke, pulling out of you and walking into the bathroom "I think breakfast is almost ready"
You nodded mindlessly, too fucked out to realize what he'd just said, until, as he reappeared from the bathroom with a wet cloth in his hand, you finally realized.
"Breakfast?"
__ __ __
"Happy birthday mommy!" Your youngest, Eva, came running towards you as soon as you stepped into the kitchen to hug you as tight as she could.
"Happy birthday Mom!" Sarah smiled, joining the hug just a moment after as Joel stumbled into the room to watch the scene unfold.
You bashed in the warmth of their embrace for a moment, before coming back to earth.
"thank you, babies" you murmured, stroking their backs with your thumb as a gigantic smile spread on your face.
"We made breakfast!" Eva announced as they both leaned away.
"You did?"
"We made birthday pancakes" Sarah explained, pointing at a plate stacked with them.
"Like you do!" Eva chirped
And your words got stuck in your throat as you took everything in.
They did all that. Just for you. Your two beautiful daughters.
"I-" you stuttered, as your eyes started to water.
"You did all that on your own?"
"yup!"
A tear ran down your cheek faster than you could wipe it away.
"mommy, why are you crying?" Eva asked, concerned "daddy, why's mommy crying? Did we do something wrong?"
"N-no baby, you did nothing wrong" you smiled, as other tears fell from your eyes
"I think mommy's crying 'cause she's happy babygirl" Joel explained, coming in to help.
"Oh" her eyes widened "Are you, mom?"
"yes baby" you reassured her, crouching down to their level to be able to hug them again. "You're the most amazing daughters in the whole world, you know that?" you smiled, soaking in their scent "And I love you more than anything"
"go sit down now" you urged, getting back up as they ran to the table, clearly eager to eat their own creation.
But as they did, your eyes couldn't help but focus on the kitchen.
It was a complete mess.
"I'll clean it up, don't worry" Joel spoke, meeting you by your side, and taking your hand in his.
You smiled for what felt like the millionth time this morning.
"thank you" you beamed "for everything"
"It's the least I could do" he shook his head, leaning in to tenderly kiss you
And as much as you were enjoying the kiss, you couldn't help but laugh as you heard the comments it was eliciting from the audience.
"Ew," Eva groaned, making a disgusted face.
"gross" Sarah agreed.
You and Joel chuckled as you took a step back for both their sakes.
"c'mon, let's go eat," he said "Breakfast's gettin' cold, mama"
~~~~~~
The fic is done this is just a bunch of other shit cause i feel like it, and id like to take a moment to thank my friends for supporting and feeding my delusions
The birthday wishes a friend sent me
And what has now become one of my favorite things I've ever been gifted, the Italian literary classic: Il fu Pedro Pascal
#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fluff#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#smut#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#fluff#joel miller imagine#joel miller blurb#joel miller angst#fanfiction#the last of us#tlou#the last of us hbo#tlou hbo
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