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#the previous/other one was a few years back.
v3nusxsky · 2 days
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Hey hey hey - 🦭
Can you do an Alpha Larissa X Pregnant Omega Reader. Where reader is pregnant with twins one a boy, and the other is girl. And Larissa is proud like a peacock, that she managed to give her mate and wife a litter of two pups when her family was known not to conceive a litter. ( for more that 4 generations they never managed to have litters in their family, and reader broke the curse. )
Babies then are born and Larissa is shocked when her pups are both born with white hair just like hers. Larissa cries to reader in happiness and reader is laughing and showing her family through camera another generation curse broken. ( white hair is very hard for Larissa’s family to conceive, but that genetic inheritance has been shown through generations before it stopped and miraculously Larissa was born with it and now her pups have it. ( Which is a miracle for Larissa’s family.) both families jokingly saying that reader is a miracle worker.
Hope you have a nice weekend Mars!
Blessings
*Authors note~ we interrupt sinful souls for a little fluffy Larissa fic🥹 enjoy y’all I’m burnt out with school work and this little fic is what I managed to create*
Trigger warnings~ pregnancy? Birth? Omegaverse
Prompt~ see ask^^^
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Life with your Alpha is more than you could’ve ever dreamed off, you remember how she found you suffering alone through your first heat, how scared she was to not be able to help. With your past and how Omegas are treated you couldn’t tolerate touch of any kind especially in heat. Your pained whimpers and whines of fear whenever an Alpha was in close proximity to you broke the blondes heart. It was then she realised, you were destined to be her Omega. She didn’t get this way with any of the other Omega staff, just you.
With time and effort from both of you, your Omega called for her to help during your heat about a year later. Now being your Alpha and girlfriend Larissa did everything and anything to ensure your comfort and safety. Time is a great healer of wounds, and with Larissa by your side you finally got to heal. Heat after heat she proved to you she’d be here in whatever way you need and want her. Happy to just cuddle and scent you into a little moment of peace or to give into her wolf and take her Omega.
The little test with the bright blue lines sat on her desk as she went to make her morning tea. After your previous heat, you’d noticed you felt a little differently, some of the older Omega students even noting your scent was off, so naturally you panicked and well. You’re pregnant. It’s not something you’d planned for right now but with that little blue plus starring right at you, you knew that this was the perfect time.
To say Larissa was extatic would’ve been an understatement, the moment she saw that test, you became the most fragile diamond in the world. Larissa always had to be touching you at all times. And when your stomach started to swell? Well, she was always rubbing and holding your stomach as you leant your weight on her. Introducing you as her gorgeous wife to be. She made sure you got every craving, she was there for every appointment, bout of sickness and even the false contractions.
Giving birth that night will forever be a memory. A perfect prince entered the world with a little squeaky squeal of protest, absolutely perfect in every way. Itching to hold your new pup until another sharp contraction hit. Something was wrong. You immediately called for your Alpha in fear, instructing her to be with your son despite how exhausted and terrified you were. And just a few minutes later your daughter arrived. “It’s a girl” was all you remember before blacking out.
“Alpha?” You whined coming back to the world, “where’s baby boy?” You mumbled not even being able to open your eyes yet. “Shh my sweet omega, he’s right here with his sister. You did so good my love. A litter of pups. So beautiful” she whispered eyes never leaving the sleeping infants. “Two?!” You mumbled trying to sit up despite the strong aftershocks of giving birth to two babies, “I thought I imagined her.”
Only when you held your daughter in your arms did you finally believe it. You’d given your Alpha a litter. Knowing the family history for Larissa it’s unheard of to have a litter. No wonder Larissa is grinning from ear to ear. Only then did you realise you hadn’t been able to dress the pups in their outfits, thank god for getting one for each gender! Larissa gently taking your daughter as you undressed your son.
“Sweet girl? She-“ happy tears trailed down Larissa’s cheeks as she spotted the Snow White curls on your daughter’s head. Larissa didn’t know where her hair colour came from, no one else living in the family had it, yet here her baby girl was with the same stunning feature. “Alpha” you murmured taking your son’s little hat off to show the same coloured hair. “Y/n! They are perfect. Your perfect. My perfect darling Omgea”, your precious litter completing your family was all so perfect.
Larissa’s aunt couldn’t wait to meet the pups, your family stood with her as they all awaited the new arrivals. Larissa, proud as ever carried both car seats into Nevermore, got you settled on the sofa with both babies in your arm, water in your favourite flask at your side. “Theodore Rodwell James, this is your family baby boy, our sweet prince” you murmured happily allowing your mother to hold her grandson. “And this beauty is Isla Arwen Saige, our little surprise” you murmured before handing her off to Larissa’s aunt. “Auntie look at her hair” Larissa prompted unable to wipe the smug smile off her face. The shock around the room being nothing but a beautiful buzz as both babies were passed around the family and congratulations given to the new mothers.
“Two curses broken, what a little miracle worker you are dear” your mother teased before pressing a sweet kiss on your cheeks. “M sweet girl?” Larissa murmured after taking a seat next you. “Alpha?” Was all you offered as you lulled your head to rest on her shoulder. “My darling omega, thank you for this blessing”
Word count~906
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violetasteracademic · 18 hours
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On Mate Behavior: Elriel (Part Two- Scent)
Another day of an SJM Instagram jump scare with more stories and no book accouncement (though I am HAPPILY celebrating indie bookstore day with you all!)- So it's another day to be on my Elriel shit. Will we still want posts like this once the announcement is out and we are done fighting for our lives? I feel like the announcement is coming soon so I need to sneak in all my thoughts!
In my previous analysis, I highlighted a moment that would have been perfect for Azriel to display some mate-like behavior towards Gwyn, and it was sorely lacking. You can catch up on that post here!
Today I would like to discuss another area lacking in mate behavior in the BC between Azriel and Gwyn, but present for... drumroll... Elriel. And that is scent.
Bringing back Nessian's bonus chapter to start the parallels, because I do think an additional bonus lends itself to the fairest basis for comparison (also if I used book examples from ToG to CC regarding romantic parings/mates and scent I'd be here for several hundred years):
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Cassian is so lost in Nesta's scent that he had to stop himself from letting his eyes roll back into his head while breathing her in. This... sounds familiar:
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Azriel's eyes also nearly rolled into the back of his head because of Elain's scent.
As previously mentioned, scent plays a huge role in mates/romantic pairings. I was chatting with my friend @faeprincesswarrior when I first started thinking about the scent thing, and she remembered that Rhys could smell Feyre's scent before they even met. He would wake up with her scent in his nose. Cassian and Azriel both can hardly control themselves when they take in the scents of Nesta and Elain.
Scent plays an important role in romantic pairings, and is honestly probably one of the things SJM lays on the thickest throughout the entirety of her multiverse and she has a tendency to drop it early on, often as an initial indicator. Yes, sometimes scenting is platonic, but Gwyn and Az don't even have that on page. There is simply no mention of scent in their portion of the chapter, but it is heavy in Elain's section.
*Crescent City 3 Spoiler* Even when Ithan is done with all his side quests and spends just a few moments with Perry, he's suddenly like mmm... strawberries and cinnamon. No other indicator of mate behavior there but MANY readers only needed that little nugget to be like- something's cooking here.
Again, in addition to Azriel's lack of response to directly recalling Gwyn's assault from his POV on page- something I would have liked to see to indicate feelings could be brewing there- there is also zero mention or indication that Azriel experiences Gwyn's scent at all. Even something small, like "a shift in her scent" at his arrival, or noticing a change in her scent from her flash of memory as well (as it happened between Nesta and Cassian.)
Azriel lost his mind over Elain's scent in their bonus chapter, just as Cassian lost his mind over Nesta's scent in theirs.
Azriel makes no mention of Gwyn's scent in the BC. It's as if to him, she doesn't even have one.
I want Azriel and Elain to be together because Azriel and Elain want to be together. They experience what romantic pairings experience together, and it is delicious.
I love Gwyn, which is why I think if she is going to have a romance in the future, she deserves more than a regifted necklace and a male who is drowning in the scent of another female's kitty and doesn't even notice what Gwyn smells like. This is really what we want for her?
Hoping for a book announcement soon. Do you guys like seeing Sarah post more? I have mixed feelings. Part of me thinks it is gearing up for an announcement which is exciting. Part of me also is tired of the jump scares and wants complete silence unless it is a book announcement. Judge me if you must!
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vbecker10 · 5 hours
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I Don't Hate You
Pairing: Loki x female reader (y/n)
Summary: You've worked at SHIELD for years and you were severely injured by Loki when he escaped from his cell on the helicarrier. It's been a year since the attack on NY and one day you finally cross paths with Loki after a month of him actively avoiding you.
Warning: Loki being upset, Loki feeling guilty, Loki feeling like he deserves to be hated, brief mentions of Loki's torture, previous injury caused by Loki... this will have a fluffy end, promise 💚
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You shift positions to get more comfortable on the couch then turn the page of your book. I might be able read this whole book tonight, you think excitedly. The Tower was quiet which was a rare occurrence, the whole team decided to go out for drinks so you have the library to yourself. After a moment, you turn the next page but suddenly you feel as if you aren't alone.
Looking up, you see Loki standing in the doorway as if he is frozen with anxiety. He briefly makes eye contact with you and turns to leave.
"Wait," you sit up, closing your book in your lap. "You can stay," you offer and he turns back to face you. "There's plenty of space," you gesture towards the other empty couch.
"I wouldn't want to disturb you," he says, shaking his head as he remains halfway between the hall and the room.
You sigh quietly, that's the first thing he's said to you in the month since you've been back from medical leave. Loki had become almost an expert in avoiding you, the closest you had come to being in the same room with him was during a briefing last week. As soon as you took your seat at the table, he excused himself and left.
He nods in response to your offer to join you but doesn't say anything. He quietly makes his way over to the large bookcases that line the wall and begins to search for a book. You try to focus on where you left off in yours but you can't seem to take your eyes off him. He seems so nervous around you and although you aren't sure what you expected from him, this wasn't it.
He selects a book and walks to the far end of the other couch, glancing towards you as he sits. You both quickly look away from each other and try to settle into your books. After a few minutes of silence he sighs and closes the book. You pretend to continue reading as you watch him return his book and begin the process of selecting one again.
"Can't decide what to read?" you ask after a moment.
He turns, his expression clearing showing that he doesn't expect you to speak to him. He shrugs, "I've read all of these..." He looks at the book he is currently holding, "Some more then a few times."
"Oh," you look at the tall, full shelves. There must be four hundred books in this room. "Wow," you react honestly.
"I read quickly," he offers a simple explanation.
"Why don't you get new ones?" you ask as if the solution is obvious.
He puts the book he is holding away and looks down at the ground, "I'm not permitted to leave the Tower unless its for a mission." He pulls a seemingly random book from the shelf and walks over to the closest seat on the other couch this time.
"Right, I forgot I guess," you suddenly feel awkward for suggesting it.
Loki was given strick orders not to leave the Tower after an incident a few months before you returned from medical leave. He had gone to a small Cafe with his brother in the morning and ended up on the news a few hours later. According to the reports you watched from rehab, he had been on line waiting for his order when a woman who lost her husband during his attack on NYC came in. She walked over to him and started screaming that he was a monster and should be rotting in a cell on whatever planet he came from. Thor tried to defuse the situation while Loki remained completely silent. Her rant finally ended when she threw some bystanders coffee at him and he left.
The two of you sit in silence for a minute then you suddenly get an idea. "Oh," you say and he looks up from the book he has no interest in.
"I think I have something that can help," you tell him. You limp slowly towards him as you unlock your phone. Sitting next to him, you feel self conscious when he shifts away from you, his eyes fixed on the metal brace supporting your leg.
His jaw tightens and his body tenses as he rubs his hands slowly together. You clear your throat, hoping to distract him from your injury and it works. He looks at you, "Here," you hand him your phone.
"What is this?" he asks.
"Its the New York Public Library," you tell him, "Well, their website at least."
He looks at you a bit confused. "What am I supposed to do with this? I'm not allowed to go to the library," he says.
"You don't need to go," you tell him with a smile. "They can bring the books here."
"I wonder why no one told you about this. They've had this for years," you say.
His eyes fill with excitement at the thought of being able to get new books. You explain the book delivery program then show him how to search for books by author, title or genre. His smile spreads as you sign him up for a library card then sit back to watch him scroll through a long list of poets.
The smile leaves his face and he admits, "I never told anyone that I had run out of books."
"Why not?" you ask.
"No one would care," he answers instantly.
When you don't say anything, he looks up from your phone and briefly makes eye contact with you. "I don't understand why you of all people would care enough to help me, to be honest. I have done nothing to deserve even the smallest kindness from you," he says as his eyes fall to your injured leg again. The joy you had seen on his face moments ago has faded completely and in a low voice he says, "I nearly killed you."
With a sigh, he nods, "I remember everyone I've hurt... or killed."
You're caught off guard by the sudden shift in topics but say, "I thought you remembered me."
"Can we just talk for a minute?" you ask, standing with him.
You gently reach out and touch his knee, causing him to jump at the sudden contact. "I'm sorry," he says as soon as you touch him. "I should go," he tells you and he gets up.
He shakes his head. "I'm not supposed to be alone with you," he admits. "Fury wants me as far from my..." he clears his throat, "victims as possible while I am here."
He looks torn about what to do but finally nods and sits down heavily. You sit next to him again but he doesn't look at you, his eyes are fixed on his hands. His knee shakes nervously and you realize he's waiting for you to lash out at him as so many people have in the wake of the attack.
"I- I didn't realize he did that," you say in shock. "I thought you were just avoiding me because of... well because of what happened."
He shrugs but doesn't respond, giving you the feeling that he might still have distanced himself from you even if he wasn't ordered to do so.
You bite your lip and say, "I'm sure Fury means well but... I just want to talk to you. If that's okay with you?"
You had imagined this moment so many times over the last year. What you would say to him and how he would react. You look at him even as he avoids looking at you and say, "I just want to to know, I don't hate you for what happened."
He shakes his head as if he doesn't believe you and says, "You should hate me, everyone does."
"I don't," you tell him simply.
He finally looks at you, a mixture of disbelief and curiosity in his eyes, "How could you not after what I did to you and so many others?"
You sigh and admit, "I used to hate you."
"But... but not anymore?" he asks.
You take a deep breath, this is the part you practiced telling him most often. "When I was in the hospital, I did hate you. I hated you more then I ever thought I could possibly hate another person. I wanted you to feel the pain and fear you inflicted on me when you were escaping. I wanted you to suffer after every surgery, after every fall I had in rehab, after every doctor told me I would never walk without some sort of brace," you tell him honestly and he nods as if he agrees with you.
You pause for a moment and wait for him to look at you again, "It was truly exhausting."
He doesn't say anything but he keeps eye contact with you. "It took so much energy to hate to," you tell him. "It was draining me."
"A few months after my first surgery, I had some of the agents I'm friends with being over your case files and I watched all your news interviews," you continue to explain.
"Why?" he asks, his voice filled with concern.
"I wanted to know if you were as evil as everyone said, if you were really a monster from another world who deserved to be hated," you tell him.
"I am a monster," he says, his eyes lowering to the ground in front of him.
His body tenses as soon as you mention Thanos's name. His eyes widen in fear and he says, "What do you know about- how could you know that? My SHIELD files doesn't contain any information about him."
"No," you tell him, touching his arm lightly and he looks up at you slowly. "You're not a monster, you're a victim of Thanos."
You fidget nervously at his reaction and say, "I... I found the restricted files SHIELD has about you, the ones with your interview-"
He gets up suddenly, his voice laced emotion but you are unsure if he is angry, hurt or embarrassed, "You read that?"
You nod, "I'm sorry-"
"No one was supposed to be able to access that. Fury said it would be sealed, that was why I agreed to tell my brother what happened," he says as he paces. He turns to face you and you can see he is holding back tears, "You shouldn't have read that. I don't want anyone to know what he did to me."
You had read all twenty six pages of the typed transcripts and listened to hours of Loki detailing his torture to Thor. He spoke about being physically hurt but also about being mentally broken by the mad titan. He lost track of time, unsure if weeks, months or years had passed while he was under Thanos's control. By the time you finished listening to his account of what happened, you had lost every ounce of hate you once harbored for him. He was more a victim than anyone.
You take a step towards him and he takes a step back, shaking his head. You reach for his hand and he lets you hold it without pulling away. "Loki," he looks at you, the first tear running down his cheek. "I'm sorry Thanos tortured you," you tell him honestly.
He shakes his head as if he can't accept your words.
You take another step towards him, still holding his hand in yours. "I'm sorry he hurt you," you say again and this time he doesn't move away from you.
"No one..." he tries to take a deep breath, "No one has ever said that to me before."
Now it's your turn to be shocked, "Not even your brother?"
He shakes his head and without thinking, you wrap your arms around him tightly. His whole body stiffens in response at first but slowly, he lifts his arms to hug you back and his body relaxes against yours. He rests his head on your shoulder and you rub his back gently.
You hold him until he slowly pulls away. Taking his hand again, you lead him back to the couch.
"You didn't deserve anything that he did to you," you tell him. When he looks at you, you can't help but raise your hand, wiping a tear from his cheek. He closes his eyes and leans into your soft touch.
He opens his eyes after a moment and quietly says, "Thank you Y/N. I'm so tired of everyone hating me. I never thought anyone would ever try to understand what happened to me."
You smile at him and quickly kiss his cheek, which is a surprise to both of you. "What was that for?" he asks, a small laugh escapes him.
He smiles and nods, "Can you do it again?"
"I don't know," you admit with a nervous giggle, "I just... It felt like something I should do. I'm sorry, was that okay?"
You smile and kiss his cheek again, "Is that making you feeling better?"
"For the first time in a very long time, yes," he says.
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I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚
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Never Say Never
Chapter 20
Pairing: SingleDad!StevexReader
Summary: You are a 32 year old single mother, raising your seven year old son on your own. After being widowed at 30 and going out on awful dates with disgusting men for the past month, you have decided that you're giving up. You already had your great love. One person can't possibly get lucky enough to have two in their lifetime. But then your son starts playing baseball and the coach might just change your mind about that.
No posting schedule.
18+ only for eventual smut
Word Count: 3.5K
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19
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Two Years Later
Indianapolis in the summer was hot and humid. You tugged at the cotton of your shirt, pulling the material away from your wet, sticky body. All you wanted right now was to lie on your couch, your feet propped up, enjoying the air conditioning and an iced coffee. But coffee was limited to you these days and decaf just didn’t bring the same joy. What was the point? And no matter what anyone said, it did not taste the same.
The bookstore was packed with people, the air conditioner not doing much amidst the radiating body heat of the crowd, books cradled in their arms, waiting to meet the author. Mike sat at a table in the center, smiling up at a customer as he signed the copy of his latest book, Paladin of the Dead Kingdom, a sequel to his debut novel which had raced up the charts to number one on the New York Times bestseller list, shocking everyone but probably him mostly. 
Releasing a long slow breath, you pressed your hand against the base of your back in an attempt to soothe the ache that had settled low in your spine. Rolling your shoulders, you moved forward, continuing to browse the selection of books on the shelf in front of you. With as much time as you'd been spending with your feet up every night, you'd been getting a lot of reading done. A few new additions to your quickly dwindling pile would be good.
Your fingers trailed over the spines as you read, waiting for something to catch your eye, the sun shining in the window hitting the diamond on your left hand with a shimmering sparkle. A soft smile crossed your lips as you flashed back to last year, you and Steve under a trellis of flowers that the girls had put together in your backyard. 
It had been a small ceremony, held on the anniversary of the day you had met each other the previous year. Your closest family and friends had gathered around as you vowed to love each other until death parted you. A slight twinge of panic had raced up your spine at those words but you had pushed it down, refusing to believe that life could be that cruel twice. No. You had been lucky enough to find him and you would be allowed to keep him. You had to believe that.
Everything with the two of you had moved pretty fast. You'd bought your house, with the wraparound porch you’d always dreamed of and the pool in the backyard that you couldn’t get the boys out of during the summer, only a few months after meeting. Steve had proposed two months after that. Seven months later you were married. From first sighting to wedding rings in the span of a year but you wouldn’t change a single thing. It didn’t matter how quickly it moved when you were certain you’d found the one that was meant for you.
“Mike is eating all this attention up,” El groaned, approaching with little Max on her hip. He’d just turned one last week and you could not get enough of his full little cheeks, dimples appearing as he grinned widely at you, drool slipping out of his mouth as he chewed at the teether El was trying to soothe him with. “But I’m so proud of him. He never thought his book would go anywhere, let alone be an instant bestseller.”
“Yeah. Well, there’s a lot of nerds in the world,” Dustin said, stepping up and holding out his arms. Baby Max leapt right into them. “The nerds far outnumber the non-nerds and he wrote something that appealed to every single one of them. Didn’t he, Max?” He grinned, bouncing his hip, Max giggling. “That’s right. Daddy did good. Huh, Max?”
“While I appreciate you naming your child after me,” Max interrupted, leaning against the side of the bookcase. “It is highly creepy to hear Dustin say my name in that baby voice.”
“Oh, Auntie Max is such a downer, isn’t she? She’s as grouchy as Oscar. We just need to find her a trash can,” Dustin cooed. “Come on little Max. I saw some cookies on the table in the back. Let’s get you one.”
“Dustin, not too much sugar, please,” El called but he was already gone and she sighed, tossing her hands in the air. “He’s going to let him have way too many cookies, isn’t he?”
“Oh yeah,” you grinned. “Not to mention punch. There’s fruit punch back there and cupcakes. Max will be all sugared up.”
“Great. At least the hotel has a pool. He can swim it out before bed.”
Robin and June walked up, hand in hand, and you smiled. Sometime within the last year, Robin has stopped being so self conscious about being affectionate with her girlfriend in public. She’d stopped worrying about what other people thought or what their reaction would be. She just let herself be happy. Even better, the two hadn’t encountered too much ignorance, choosing to ignore the side eyes or wrinkled noses. If anyone had anything to say, you would be more than happy to put them in their place.
Robin had moved out of her apartment when the lease was up last August and moved in with June. The two were now running the coffee shop together. Business was booming with all of Robin’s ideas. They had things going on every single night and the town was eager to come in, not only for the coffee and sandwiches anymore, but for all the extras. People waited anxiously to hear what the next read was for book club or to see the sign advertising what new musician would be playing. Local artists and poets signed up on a waiting list that was six months long to be able to come in and feature their work. 
“This is one hell of a turnout,” June commented, eyes wide as she took in the crowd packed into the bookstore. 
“Isn’t it amazing? It really means a lot to Mike that you all came to support him,” El told them with a smile. 
“Of course we did,” Jonathan said, him and Nancy walking up. “Plus, it gave us a nice little getaway. We’re all going to take the boys to the Indianapolis Zoo tomorrow and to a baseball game on Sunday. They can’t wait. Jere is so excited to see his first professional game.”
Nancy laughed, “Well, the guys are going to take the boys to the baseball game. Y/N and I have appointments at the spa.”
You smiled, inhaling and exhaling deeply, “You have no idea how much I am looking forward to that. My feet could use some serious pampering right now.”
“Everything could use some pampering right about now,” Nancy said, waving her hand up and down to indicate your whole body. “Why do you think Steve booked it?”
Every time you thought Steve couldn’t get anymore perfect, he managed to prove you wrong, to do something to surprise you. When talk of this trip to support Mike’s book release came up, he’d instantly suggested you should turn it into a little vacation for all of you. You were all for the idea, excited to show him the Indianapolis Zoo that you’d enjoyed so much five years ago when Justin had brought you. You fully intended on replacing your broken coffee mug on this trip. 
Then last week, he dropped a brochure on your lap. It was for a spa in the city. He’d booked you the Ultimate Package. It included a massage, a facial, manicure, pedicure, a hair wash, and style. You’d argued with him, telling him it was too much, but he’d insisted. Then he’d tempted you even more by telling you that Nancy was going with you. 
You and Nancy had grown exceptionally close over the last couple of years. The woman you’d been so terrified of had turned out to be one of the most exceptional people you’d ever met. She’d welcomed you into their little family from the moment she’d met you and she had supported you and Steve every step of the way. Janice had been your maid of honor but Nancy had stood right next to her, a beautiful bridesmaid, her eyes shining with tears of joy as you and Steve had promised to love one another forever. 
The bell above the door rang lightly, barely heard over the chatter of conversation within the four walls. Eli and Jeremiah came racing in, darting straight for their moms, red faced, shiny with sweat, and beaming from ear to ear. 
“We pet a dog!” Eli yelled. “He was so big, mommy, like way bigger than me. Even bigger than Miles!”
Steve trailed behind them, clearly out of breath from trying to keep up with the boys. He stopped in front of you, hands on his hips, chest rising and falling deeply. 
“Great Dane,” he muttered. 
He’d offered to take the boys for a walk to get them out of everybody’s hair for a minute. They had been bursting with energy and sitting or standing nicely in the bookshop was not cutting it at the moment. You had been nervous they were going to cause a commotion if they didn’t get out of there for a bit.
“And we went to a playground!” Jeremiah added. “You should have seen it! It had everything and the monkey bars were so high but I did them anyway! I wasn’t even scared!”
“Yeah! And they had this swing that two people could sit on! It was like a circle and we sat on it and Daddy pushed us and we went so high!” Eli yelled.
“Wow, that’s incredible,” Jonathan replied, leaning down, hands on his knees. “How about we go get you both a cookie and some punch and you can pick out a book and sit and rest for a bit. I bet you could use some rest after all that excitement.”
“I sure could,” grumbled Steve, but his smile didn’t match his tone. The man might grumble and moan but he loved those boys with everything he had. And nothing made him happier than spending time with them. 
“Aww,” you cooed, running your fingers through his hair, damp at the base of his neck from the heat and exertion, “did the boys wear you out, baby?”
“A bit,” he nodded. “They never stop, those two. They just have endless energy. I wish I could bottle up a fraction of it. It’s hard keeping up with them.”
“Well, you better get to training then,” Nancy teased, her eyes dropping to your stomach and then back up to Steve. “You’ve only got a couple months to get ready for an all new one. You think they’re exhausting now, do you remember Jeremiah at one and two and three?”
Yes, Eli was getting the sibling that you had always hoped for him to have but hadn’t expected to happen. After you were married, you had stopped birth control, the two of you deciding that if it happened, it happened. You weren’t stressing it. You would be content either way but when you realized in February that your period was a month late and that stick had shown two pink lines, you'd both been elated. 
The idea of a little person that was a mixture of the two of you, a living, breathing testament to the love you shared, filled you both with more joy than you'd expected. It felt like a symbol of not only your relationship, but the blending of your two families into one. Beautiful splashes of color that collided to create the most beautiful piece of art. Because there was no doubt in your mind that this baby would be beautiful, especially if she got her dad’s lashes and that head of full, thick hair. 
“Have you guys finally picked out a name?” questioned Robin for what had to be the twentieth time. “You know, I keep telling you that Robin is a pretty great name.”
“I would offer up Max but that’s already taken,” the red head shrugged. “Not that you couldn’t also name your child after me. I mean, I am obviously the coolest one here.”
El laughed, “While I agree, it would be very challenging to have two little ones running around with the same name. It’s already hard with you and my son.”
“Besides, Robin is the obvious choice,” Robin cut in.
“Why is Robin the obvious choice? Why not June?” her girlfriend asked. “I think it’s a very pretty name.”
“It’s a beautiful name for the most beautiful girl,” Robin said, “but I have been friends with Steve for fourteen years.”
“Well, if we’re going by the longest time knowing someone, then I should win,” Nancy argued. “I’ve known Steve for sixteen years and I am the mother of his other child. I think that gives me bonus points. Maybe the baby should be called Nancy.”
“I don’t know that Jere would want his little sister to be named the same thing as his mom,” Steve mused. 
“Why not? Guys name their kids after themselves all the time.”
“While that is true,” you began, cutting off the conversation, “we have already settled on a name. She will be Peyton Robin Harrington.”
“Ohh!” El’s eyes went wide, her hands clasped to her chest. “I love Peyton. That’s such a cute name.”
“Yeah, and it doesn’t lend itself to any weird nicknames,” Steve said, his arms coming around you, hands covering your round belly. “That was one of my biggest concerns. I didn’t want to pick anything that could be turned into something awful.”
“Like Pey?” offered Lucas, earning a glare from Steve.
“Oh! Peyday!” Max grinned.
“Or PeyPey,” teased Robin.
Nancy snorted, “How about Ton? Come here little Ton!”
“You all suck,” Steve snapped, rolling his eyes. “None of you will be calling my beautiful little girl any of those awful names.”
“I don’t know,” you joked. “Peyday has a certain ring to it.”
“Don’t you start, too,” groaned Steve.
“Oh! Or Peycheck!” 
“Honey, seriously…”
“Peyroll! No! I got it. Peypaya.”
Steve’s hands rested on his hips, his face so unamused that you couldn’t help but laugh. 
“You guys are so funny. Leave my daughter alone.”
“Hey,” you protested, winding your arms around his waist, feeling him melt against you, his hands leaving his hips to come around you. “She’s my daughter too.”
“So stop trying to start off her life by traumatizing her. She’ll never live down a name like Peypaya.”
“While I think Robin should have been her first name, I guess I am willing to accept the middle name,” the blond huffed, folding her arms and rolling her eyes. “I guess it’s still a little recognition of how neither of you could function without me.”
“We really couldn’t,” you agreed. “I mean, who would keep this one in line for me?” You nodded your head toward Steve and he snorted, shaking his head. 
“Seriously. This dingus thought doing the whole baby room without you as a surprise while you were visiting your parents would be a good idea.”
“Hey! I thought it would be nice for her to come home to a finished nursery. I was just trying to save my wife from extra work.”
“Yeah and then she wouldn’t have had a say in any of it. She would have smiled and thanked you and secretly hated it every single time she walked into the room and it wasn’t what she’d envisioned,” Max told him. “Robin was right. You cannot do home renovations without your wife’s opinion.”
“I asked Janice for input. She knows her better than anyone.”
It was true. Janice knew exactly what you would want. The sage green nursery, photos of zoo animals that your friend had taken for you adorning the walls, soft pastel orange bedding and pillows, cuddly stuffed animals propped throughout. It was perfect and Janice would have guided Steve to do exactly that.
The two of you had been ecstatic when you'd found out that you were having a girl. Janice’s daughter, Olive, was only eighteen months so the girls would be close in age. Both of you hoped your girls would be just as inseparable as their moms were, a built in life-long friend. 
Max relented, “Okay. I mean, asking her best friend was a solid plan. If anyone would know what she wanted, it was her.”
“Exactly and what she told me is exactly what my wife wanted anyway. I could have done it and then she wouldn’t have had to stress.”
“Either way, the nursery is perfect. The boys had the best time helping us get everything ready. They even each picked out an animal for the room. Eli wanted an elephant because it starts with ‘e’ and Jeremiah went with giraffe because it has the same sound as his name, even if the letters are different. His words, not mine.” You laughed, remembering how excited the boys had been running through the baby store, helping you pick out things for the room. 
“They were a little bummed that we didn’t go with a superhero theme,” Steve added.
“Well, of course,” chuckled Lucas. “What little girl wouldn’t want Batman and Superman?”
Max shrugged, “I mean, you could have gone with Catwoman and Wonder Woman. That would have been pretty kickass.”
Mike stumbled over into their aisle, looking exhausted but happy, a wide smile stretching his face. He leaned down to kiss El and then dropped down to the floor dramatically in front of the bookshelf. 
“My hand is going to wither and fall off,” he groaned, shaking his fingers. “I don’t even know how many books I signed.”
“Oh please. You love it,” Lucas told him. 
Mike grinned, “I do. I never thought this would actually be me. I mean, nothing Mike Wheeler, kid who was picked on by the assholes all through school, now a bestselling author. People actually line up just to meet me and get me to slap my signature on something I wrote. It’s insane, man, but so damn cool.”
“Dada!”
Little Max came racing over, Dustin rushing behind him, clearly having lost control of the situation. The little guy flung himself into Mike’s open arms and the guy who’d looked terrified at the thought of being a father, scooped him up, kissing the top of his hair that was the shade of midnight, just like his dad’s. 
“Hey buddy.”
Max held up the cookie he currently had in his hand, the whole thing a mushy wet mess from where he’d been gnawing at it. He tried to put it in Mike’s mouth and he grimaced, shaking his head. 
“No thank you. That’s Max’s cookie. You eat it, buddy.”
“And how many cookies is that, Dustin?” inquired El, the girl already having the mom look down, currently giving it to Dustin. 
The boy shrugged, curls spilling out from under his ballcap, “I don’t know. Not too many…I mean…” He ran his hand over his mouth, mumbling, “Four.”
“Four! Did you say four?” El groaned, her head dropping back. “Dustin, seriously. I am going to make you deal with him when he’s running up and down the hallways of the hotel and refusing to go to sleep.”
“Okay. I don’t mind hanging out with the little dude.”
El’s eyes rolled up into her head as the adult Max patted her shoulder gently.
“Well, while he’s had four cookies, I’ve had nothing for the last three hours and I am starving,” Mike announced, one arm around his son as he rose up to his feet. “What do you all say we head out and get some dinner?”
“You buying?” asked Nancy. 
“Yeah, with that big advance, you can afford it, right?” Lucas agreed. 
Robin placed an arm on his shoulder, grinning, “Mr. Big Bucks over here these days.”
“Oh! If Mike’s buying, I am getting all the drinks,” June said. 
“And dessert,” Max added. “Maybe we should order every dessert on the menu. You know, so we can taste everything.” 
“Don’t forget appetizers,” Will stated.
Nolan nodded, “Yeah. I love to taste test things at other restaurants. Give me ideas for new recipes. I bet we could manage to order one of everything on the menu, for research, you know?”
“You guys are jerks,” Mike huffed.
“What, with that fancy Range Rover you drive now, I assumed you must have lots of expendable cash,” Jonathan said as he and the boys joined them. 
“I mean, I’m doing okay,” Mike shrugged, his ears turning bright red. “I wouldn’t say I’m rolling in cash but I can buy dinner.”
They all whooped and cheered, heading out of the bookshop and onto the streets of Indy. 
“But not one of everything on the menu!” he yelled after them.
“What?” Robin bellowed. “Sorry. Can’t hear you!”
“Yeah!” Lucas yelled. “Too busy imagining all the food I’m going to eat!”
Steve rolled his eyes at the group, his arm coming around your shoulder as you trailed behind everybody. His mouth dropped to your ear, lips brushing over the tender skin as he whispered, “Regretting getting mixed up with this crew? Rethinking your choices?”
“Never,” you said, and you meant it, because this guy right here and everyone that came along with him were the best choice you’d ever made. Two years ago you’d said you would never find something this amazing again. But never say never.
Taglist: @katethetank@roxiehorrorshow@sapphire4082@bakugouswh0r3@frostandflamesfanfic @mix-matchsocks @mushy-mushroom04 @palmtreesx3 @littlebookworm86 @eddies-trailer-babe @cheesewritings @emilyj444 @daisyhollyxox @angelbabyivy @the-fairy-anon @loritate7311 @k-k0129 @antiquecultist
And this brings this story to an end. Endings are always bittersweet for me. Thanks so much for taking the time to read my little story! 😊 And replies and reblogs are always appreciated if you enjoy it. I love to hear what you think! ❤️❤️❤️
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mrs-snape5984 · 12 hours
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„I hope, I’ll always have you in my mind, so that I know to find you every time.“
„Put your head on my chest, that’s your safe place. We‘ll fall deeper in love every day. From life unto life and for always.“ („Soul Mate“ by Flora Cash)
There’s something in my current life, that came hand in hand with my disease ME/CFS…slowly creeping into my fibres…infecting my mind with sadness. It’s loneliness, that I’m talking about. Overwhelming, crushing, suffocating loneliness.
Before this cruel bitch of a disease put a stopper in my life, as I knew it from before, I haven’t been healthy, either. But neither my severe Colitis Ulcerosa, nor the other few sicknesses and disabilities had achieved to break me the way, ME/CFS broke me!
What’s left, is only a shell of myself…a sad shadow of the woman, I’ve been prior to today. Where did the intelligent, sassy, witty and caring person go to, when she disappeared so insidiously from my personality? On some days, I still get a little glimpse of her, when I’m talking to my beloved friends @vulnus-sanare, @preciousthelmadonna or my bestie Miri, who often just “enjoys” sitting beside me in my dark room…embraced by silence and darkness. These tiny jiffies, when I’m recognising my previous character…my true nature, even though it’s only for a brief time, I’m feeling a little less anxious…a little less worthless.
But sadly, these moments become more rare with each new PEM crash of my disease (PEM = Post-exertional malaise = worsening of symptoms after certain activities). It feels as if I’m fading away from life…I’m fading away from other people’s lives as well as from my own.
Since I can’t leave my dark room - and most of the time even my bed - I’m not capable of joining social gatherings anymore. It’s impossible for me to endure listening to more than one person at once, so even my three kids have to “visit” me one after the other in my chamber. There are days, when I can’t even reply to messages from others, just because screen time is killing me.
All the more, I’m grateful for these few friends, who stay with me, no matter how silent I am, because they make me feel worthier and loved. And yet, I’m afraid of not being able to give them the same amount of support in return…due to the restrictions of my cruel reality, which are confining me.
So, there are many days, which I’m spending in total gloominess and silence with nothing but solitude surrounding me. And even if I’d be capable of sending text or audio messages (since I can’t type them out properly sometimes), I often hold myself back from reaching out to these understanding friends…only because I don’t want to be a burden to them.
I commissioned the lovely artist @hannisimp for this beautiful piece of art. Lin, you gave me exactly, what I needed with this tender artwork of yours. You gave me the feeling of being less alone. Severus accompanies me for 21 years now. He’s the safe haven, the comfort blanket, which I’m clinging to so desperately! My dear, I can’t stress enough, how grateful I am for your fine art. You made the love and the trust between Severus and my - oh, so self-inserted - OC Jules become palpable. There are no words to express my gratitude, so I just stay with these: Thank you for everything, my friend! Thank you for your talent, your kindness and each of your messages. I won’t ever take these things for granted.
🖤Severus & Julia🖤
🖤Sevy & Jules🖤
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merrybloomwrites · 20 hours
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I Hear Them Calling (Chapter 8)
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Story Summary: Alpha Harry Styles and omega Y/N Y/L/N meet under less than ideal circumstances. Overtime their paths will cross and they will be drawn to one another in ways they never expected.
Chapter Summary: Y/N joins Harry for his last few shows in California and they take their relationship to the next level.
Prologue ; Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3 ; Chapter 4 ; Chapter 5 ; Chapter 6 ; Chapter 7
Word count: 3.8K
CW: smut, knotting, p in v sex, heat cycle
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Waking up on New Year’s Day, wrapped in your alpha’s arms, is truly the best way to start the year. Your scents mix beautifully together, and his bedroom feels like a sanctuary. The two of you spend the entire day at his house. It’s comfortable, domestic even the way you fit seamlessly into his home. You cook dinner together and once again end the night making love.
Even though you wake up the following morning the same way as the previous, there’s sadness in the air. It’s the day you leave to fly back home. Since Harry has a few meetings and other plans, he won’t be joining you in the states for a couple of weeks. It’s a shorter separation than the last one, but you still don’t want to say goodbye.
The alarm on your phone rings, and you roll over to face Harry. He presses a kiss to your temple, then nose, before finally reaching your lips. Just as the two of you are getting into a rhythm, tongues dancing in each other’s mouths, your second alarm goes off. You know that if you don’t get up and get ready now you’re going to miss your flight. Which wouldn’t be the worst thing in your opinion. But there’s an in-person “start of the year” meeting that you need to be at in a couple of days. So you pull yourself away with the last bit of personal restraint you possess.
Harry helps pack the last of your things while you shower, and he has breakfast waiting for you. Both plates are set in front of the chair that Harry’s sitting on, and you’re confused for a moment before you see the pleading look on his face. Understanding his silent request, you move to sit on his lap. You feel him relax beneath you as you grant him this last moment of intimacy.
After breakfast is finished you turn in Harry’s lap, straddling him now, so you can start to say goodbye. Even though he’s driving you to the airport, you both know you can’t share a proper moment there in case he’s spotted by fans.
The first thing he does is douse you in his scent. You melt the second his nose runs against your neck. He’s thorough, kissing and licking against the gland there, ensuring that you’ll smell of your alpha for your journey home. With one final, gentle, nip of his teeth on your skin, he pulls away satisfied.
“I don’t want to go,” you say with a pout.
“I know baby. I don’t want you to leave either,” he replies.
“Just two weeks, right?”
“Just two weeks. And then I’ll come get you and we’ll be in California together,” he confirms.
“Okay. I can do two weeks.” You take a deep breath before slotting your lips to his. It’s a short kiss, but it’s full of love.
You glance at the clock and sigh.
“Time to go,” Harry says sadly. The two of you get up and head to the car. Harry insists on carrying your bags, and then keeps his hand on your thigh for the entire drive. It’s these little ways that he shows he cares about you that you’ve never experienced before. He’s always making you fall for him even more.
When you arrive, he quickly shimmies his sweatshirt off and hands it to you. It’s doused in his scent, and it’s one of the coziest things you’ve ever worn.
“Thank you, alpha,” you say.
“Of course, omega. Call me when you get home, okay?”
“I will.” This comes out barely a whisper, as you fight to hold back tears. Harry releases calming pheromones and you take a deep breath to recenter yourself.
After a final goodbye you enter the airport, going through check-in and security. It’s an uneventful day of travel, and this time you manage to take a nap on the plane. One short uber ride later and you’re finally home.
You send Harry a quick text to let him know you’re home safe and that you’ll call him after a shower. You need to wash away the grime of traveling, but unfortunately this also washes away Harry’s scent.
There are still a couple bags of scented items that he’d given you, so you decide to spruce up your nest again. After your shower you call Harry and talk on the phone while you build it. The nest brings you the peace your omega requires to fall asleep without your alpha for the first time in weeks.
The time before Harry arrives passes slowly, as you knew it would. The touch deprivation doesn’t get too out of hand like it previously did. You have a telehealth call with your doctor during this time, just to check in with her. She explains that the symptoms being better likely means your omega knows it has an alpha who will always return to take care of it. It’s weirdly satisfying to know that there’s medical proof of how healthy your relationship with Harry is.
And then, finally, Harry is here. He stays with you for a few days, attending meetings in New York or taking phone calls about upcoming projects while you do your work. Each night is spent together watching movies, playing games, or just talking. Your friends come over and it’s perfect how seamlessly Harry fits in with the group.
The two of you fly together to California where Harry will be doing a number of shows in Los Angeles and Palm Springs. You stay at his LA home and cannot believe how beautiful it is. You go with him to rehearsals, where you enjoy watching the behind-the-scenes process as well as hanging out with the band and crew. You attend the shows, always in a VIP section, away from any danger, in order to calm Harry’s alpha.
You wake up early the morning of Harry’s birthday and sneak down to the kitchen of the beautiful Airbnb he’d rented in Palm Springs. Your goal is to make him a surprise breakfast in bed. He’s just starting to stir when you walk back in carrying a tray of food.
“Happy birthday,” you say as you place the tray on the dresser before leaning in to give Harry a kiss.
“Thank you my love,” he replies.
“Brought you breakfast, all your favorites.”
“It smells delicious!”
With that the two of you sit side-by-side in bed, drinking coffee, eating breakfast, and occasionally feeding bites to each other. When you’re both full you move the tray to the side again and grab a couple presents you’d hidden in the closet.
“What’s all this? You didn’t have to get me anything,” Harry says.
“It’s nothing special, just a few things that made me think of you.”
He unwraps the gifts, a huge smile on his face as each is revealed. As you said, none of it is expensive or fancy really, but Harry can tell the thought you put into each gift.
“Thank you baby, it’s all perfect.”
“You’re welcome,” you reply. “There’s actually one more thing,” you add shyly, shifting as you kneel in bed next to him.
He picks up on your nervous pheromones and takes one of your hands in his to soothe you, unsure of where this is going.
“So I’ve been thinking about this a lot over the last couple of weeks and uhm, I’m ready. To be knotted.”
Harry stares at you for a long moment, and part of you fears that he’ll reject you, but that fear quickly vanishes when he says, “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I’ve never felt so safe and cared for by someone. I’ve never wanted to literally be tied to another person. Not until I met you, alpha.”
He takes a deep, steadying breath, the air filling with pheromones indicating just how much he wants that.
“My omega, I will always make sure you’re safe, no matter what’s happening. If you change your mind, just tell me and we’ll stop, promise?”
“I promise,” you reply as you lean in to press a deep kiss to his lips.
The kiss starts slow, hesitant, and you can tell Harry is afraid to push too far. So you take control, running your tongue along the seam of his lips until he opens his mouth. When your tongues meet, a shift occurs, and Harry once again becomes the dominant alpha you’re used to in bed.
His hands come up, one around your waist and the other cupping the back of your neck to keep you close to him. After a few minutes of deep, passionate kisses he breaks away to kiss and nip along your throat. When he gets to the scent gland just under your ear he begins to scent you thoroughly, licking and leaving small bites. You’re boneless in his arms and you know your underwear is ruined with the slick pooling there.
It's a rush to get out of your clothes, until every article from both of your bodies is scattered on the floor. Your omega instincts kick in and you follow them, moving until you’re on your belly and then lifting your backside into the perfect presenting position.
“Not like that, baby,” Harry says as he gently manhandles you so you’re on your back looking up at him. “I want to see you this time. Plus, it will be more comfortable when we’re tied together.”
The reminder that you'll be literally stuck together has a wave of nerves and a wave of desire running through you simultaneously. It’s a scary thought, being stuck to someone in such an intimate way, but you know it will feel good and only bring you and Harry closer emotionally.
He presses kisses down your body until he reaches your core, literally growling at how wet you are, at how sweet your slick smells. After the first couple tentative licks he begins to eat you out in earnest. This is something you’ve come to expect in the weeks since your relationship with Harry became physical. He rarely goes straight to penetrative sex, preferring to bring you to at least one orgasm first. Even though today is his birthday, it’s no different than usual. Sometimes you think it’s more for him than for you if his enthusiasm is anything to go by.
It doesn’t take long before he brings you to climax, your breathy moans and cries of his name mixing with obscene sounds of Harry eating you out. Once you’ve fully ridden every wave of pleasure he begins to move back up your body. You lazily make out before Harry pulls away to reach into the bedside table drawer. He pulls out a condom and you watch with lust-hazed eyes as he rolls it along his length.
He's hovering over you again, silently checking one last time if you’re ready. You smile and nod, leaning up for a gentle, chaste kiss. It’s as he presses his lip to yours again that you feel his tip at your entrance. Your jaw goes slack as he slowly pushes fully inside of you until his hips are flush to yours. What happens next is a beautiful, passionate blur, as he brings you to climax once more. He scents you some more as you catch your breath, and then you cry out in pleasure as he begins thrusting again.
It's as you reach your third orgasm of the morning that you feel his hips starts to stutter. You wrap your legs around him, giving a silent signal that you still want this, still desire him to knot you.
When his knot finally locks in place you gasp, the feeling unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. There’s definitely a twinge of pain, your body not ever having something so large inside. But at the same time there’s a warmth, both from the cum filling the condom and from the knot itself. Harry’s cries of pleasure ring in your ears and he’s kissing you before moving to your scent gland once again, frantically scenting you, ensuring that everyone will know you’re claimed by an alpha.
Once his inner alpha is satisfied that his omega smells only of him he calms down.
“Are you alright my love?” he asks.
“I’m good,” you reply. “Feels so good.”
“I could say the same. Being locked in you feels like heaven. Jesus, you darling, are perfect. Absolutely perfect.”
You blush at the compliments, your omega preening at all the attention from your alpha. He continues to scent and kiss you for the twenty minutes you’re tied together. It only takes a couple minutes for you to get used to the feeling, and then there’s an emptiness when he finally pulls out.
“C’mon baby, let’s get cleaned up,” he says before carrying you into the bathroom, needing to give into his instincts to care for you in any way he can.
Harry continues to dote on you the rest of the morning and scents you again before you both leave to get lunch with his friends prior to soundcheck and the show. Sarah gives a knowing look when she sees the two of you, but you can’t even feel embarrassed that the other alpha picked up on how you spent the morning. Especially not when she gives you a hug and says, “I’m so happy for the two of you.”
The rest of the afternoon passes quickly and suddenly Madi Diaz is on stage opening the show. You’re in Harry’s dressing room as he finishes getting ready, and though you’re dressed in a light skirt and tank top, you still feel a bit warm. You make a joke about how hot they keep a venue that’s literally in the desert, and Harry just gives you a questioning look.
Before he can ask what you mean, he’s being called away to grab his mic pack and head to the stage. You give him one more kiss for luck before going to find your spot in the VIP section.
Harry enters the stage a little while later, holding onto his birthday balloon. Even though you’d just been with him as he got dressed, you’re practically salivating at how good he looks. Even though you try to prevent it, there’s definitely slick leaking into your panties, so much so that you take a quick bathroom break to clean up. You’re also sweating, leading you to wonder how everyone else around you looks completely cool when it’s practically a thousand degrees.
When the show ends you all meet backstage for a drink to celebrate Harry’s birthday and the end of the US leg of tour. You’re tucked into Harry’s side, fighting off the desire to pull him away from the crowd so he can knot you again. You shake your head slightly, shocked at how getting knotted one time has made you insatiable.
You look up and notice Sarah watching you closely before she leans over and whispers something to Mitch. He then looks at you as well, as though studying you and you begin to feel somewhat self-conscious causing you to tuck further into Harry’s embrace.
After everyone is done wishing Harry a happy birthday Sarah makes her way over, effectively pulling you both off to the side.
“Y/N, are you feeling alright?” she asks.
“Yea, I’m fine, why?” you reply, lying slightly. Because the truth is you feel a bit off, but you have no clue what is going on. You begin to feel cornered by the alpha, and even though you’re normally good friends with her, you don’t want her around you right now. The only alpha you want is yours. And you want him alone.
“Are you sure? Because you seem like you could be slipping into heat. I know it’s none of my business but I’m just worried.”
Just like that all the air escapes from your lungs. The room starts spinning and anxiety builds in your chest. Because you realize she’s right. Your doctor said your mini-heat would hit in February, and here it is, February first. Being knotted that morning probably helped trigger it as well.
“Oh my god,” you whisper.
Harry is still by your side, similarly shocked that he didn’t pick up on the signs either.
The heat haze starts to settle over you, as though you noticing what it is has the process speeding up. “Harry, I need to go,” you say, fear lacing your voice. You know that being an omega in heat is extremely vulnerable and here you are in a venue surrounded by people.
“I know,” he says, his voice strained. You’re not sure if he’s more affected by desire or a need to protect his omega, but you can tell he’s under immense stress at the moment. He calls his assistant Jada over to make arrangements to get you home safely.
You’re vaguely aware of conversation happening around you, but the fuzziness in your brain makes it hard to understand what they’re saying. You turn your head, blindly seeking out Harry’s delicious scent. It's an unconscious decision to start scenting him right there in front of his friends, and you don’t realize you’re nipping at his scent gland until he’s gently pulling you away.
You start to whine, trying to move closer again, fighting against him until he says “Omega, listen to me.” Immediately your eyes meet his, and you’re snapped out of the daze. Part of you knows that he just used his alpha voice and while normally you’d hate that, your omega preens. This isn’t just any alpha, this is your alpha, and you know he’s using his voice to help you, to protect you.
Once your eyes are locked into his and he knows he has your attention, Harry says, “Jada and Elin are going to take you back to the house. There will be a couple beta security guards there as well. They’ll all take care of you and make sure you’re safe.”
You nod, showing that you understand. But then tears well in your eyes and Harry gently asks, “Omega, what’s wrong?”
You don’t answer, you don’t want to say it, because it feels silly and childish. But you can’t keep anything from him, not when he looks so worried and you whisper, “I’m scared, Alpha.”
“Oh my darling,” he says as he pulls you in for a hug once again. “I know it’s scary. It’s been a long time since you’ve experienced this huh?”
“Yea. I just, I don’t really remember the couple of heats I had, I just remember feeling untethered. I didn’t like it. I felt so alone.”
“Baby, I promise you won’t be alone. The others will be there to check on you, and our room smells of our scents which will soothe you. And I’ll be there the second it’s done. It’ll only be a day, maybe two tops. Over before you know it, okay?”
“Okay,” you answer, and he leans down to place one quick kiss to your lips. He doesn’t dare do more, not wanting to set off a wave of your heat while you’re still in a public space. Plus, he’s holding on to the last bit of control he has, finding it harder to contain his alpha as your scent continues to grow sweeter.
With one final hug you say goodbye and are led to the car that’s waiting. You’re in the backseat with the window down, the cold air keeping you from feeling like you’re burning from the inside out. Back at the house Elin leads you to the master bedroom, where you’ll end up spending the next 27 hours.
The mini heat isn’t awful. It’s painful at moments, your desperation for a knot overwhelming you. Shortly after arriving at the house Jada brings a box of supplies. In your aroused state you don’t question where they got a new knotting dildo at midnight, but you’re grateful for whoever found it as it helps get you through.
Elin and Jada check in on you at regular intervals, making sure you’ve eaten and seeing if there’s anything you need. You assure them that you’re fine every time, but the truth is you still feel alone. It’s a loneliness that’s deep in your bones, your heat making you desperate for the touch of another person, and not even in a sexual way. You just want to be held.
When Elin knocks on the door at 3 am, 27 hours after getting to the house, she finds you wrapped in a mountain of blankets. That alone alerts her to the fact that the heat is over. She texts Harry immediately, and 15 minutes later he’s running into the room.
The second he walks in, you break, tears streaming as sobs wrack your body. He wraps you in his arms and begins to scent you, not needing to ask what is wrong. He understands. You’re exhausted, physically and mentally. Your inner omega has been on edge without its alpha there. You are simply overwhelmed by the experience.
Harry sits with you, holding you tight and murmuring sweet things until your sobs taper off into quiet sniffles.
“You okay?” He eventually asks.
“I’m okay,” you reply truthfully. It had been cathartic to cry, to let it all out.
“Do you need anything?”
“Just hold me please,” you answer.
“Of course baby. Always.”
Harry keeps his promise, continuing to hold you close as you get some rest. In the morning, he gets breakfast delivered to the house so he only has to leave bed for a moment to grab it from the front porch. He then draws a bath and helps gently wash every inch of your skin.
Since you have the house rented for a couple more days you decide to build a fresh nest. You kick Harry out, needing to do this by yourself. You do, however, run out to the living room more than once so he can scent certain items. Once it’s complete you call for Harry and he joins you immediately.
“This is beautiful,” he says as soon as he sees the nest you’ve constructed.
“Really?” You ask, always a little unsure of yourself when you try to follow your omega instincts.
“Really. It’s perfect,” he reassures you.
“Lay with me?” You ask.
“I’d love nothing more,” he replies and follows you into the center of the bed nest. You curl yourself into his side and relax. It’s no surprise when you begin to purr, Harry rumbling in contentment next to you.
In that moment something becomes clear to you. This is your alpha. Your future is with him. You won’t bring it up just yet, but you know you want him to join you for your next heat, and whatever may come after.
————————————————————————
AN: Thank you so much for reading! Next chapter should be the end of the main story but I’m sure I’ll do some extras after that!
Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@theekyliepage@numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry@ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess@houseofdilfs@shaquille-0atmeal-1@kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye@n0vaj3an@snwells@drunk-teens-doing-drugs ; @fdl305@creativelyeva@daphnesutton@selluequestrian@lovingfurypanda @stardream14 @tbsloneely@eversincehs1@boomitsallie1@rose-garden-dreamz@fictionalmensblog@buckybarnessimpp @ottawaoutlander @storyschanging @jerseygirlinca@stylesfever@alwayslovingharry @daphnesutton @harrydeary
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onceuponapuffin · 13 hours
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Fanatic Intervention Part 8!!
I see your votes everyone, and I hear your voices. But before I can, in good conscience, place us in Heathrow, I need to share this with you.
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In the end, convincing Aziraphale (who, surprise surprise, had never flown on a plane) that First Class was the way to go wasn’t all that hard.
“Otherwise you fly all cramped with hundreds of other people!” You say. Crowley nods.
“Mmmmm yes,” the demon agrees, “Imagine being elbow-to-elbow with all those humans. Feet in your face, children kicking the back of your seat, sharing an armrest!”
“I rather like humans though,” says Azirphale, even though he looks a little pale at the mention of armrests, “And I would be next to you anyway.”
“What about the humans who haven’t showered for days?” You ask, “How long has it been since the last time you were near one person, nevermind a hundred-ish, who didn’t follow basic hygiene practices? A few hundred years?”
Aziraphale’s face falls. Crowley chimes in.
“Oh yes, just imagine all the sweat and grease from the airport food.”
“And then there are the babies that travel. I mean, their ears pop when the plane takes off and when it lands, and they only really have one coping strategy.”
“Aaah,” Crowley says, “The crying babes! Think of all the crying babies and no escape! Not for hours and hours and hours.”
“And then,” You say, “There’s the in-flight meal.” Here, you seem to have struck a cord. Duh, you should have led with this. Aziraphale raises an eyebrow.
“Oh? They serve food?”
“Psh,” You say, “If you can call it that. They ask you if you want chicken or vegetarian, and then they plop a cardboard box with a film top in front of you.”
“It’s dreadful,” agrees Crowley, “All bland and clearly frozen and warmed up in a microwave.”
“And if you’re lucky, you can tell that it’s meant to be a sandwich,” You add.
“Supposing you can tell that it’s food at all!” Crowley says with a nod, “And their wine list is small potatoes.”
“Small bland potatoes,” You say, “If you can call them potatoes at all – served in the tiniest bottles and the tiniest glasses you ever did see.”
You noticed Aziraphale’s eye twitch ever so slightly.
“And in First Class they...they serve actual food and wine, do they?”
“Oh yeah,” You say, “with proper service and cloth napkins and everything. Most of the airline websites say that the food’s prepared by an actual chef.”
“And the glasses are normal sizes, and made of actual glass,” adds Crowley for good measure. Aziraphale hums.
“Yes, fine. Clearly First Class is the only acceptable way to travel.” He leaves the room. You hear the kettle turn on. He probably needs some tea to calm his nerves after hearing all that. You turn to Crowley.
“So you’ve gone on a plane before, huh? Did you invent the food? I would not be surprised if you did.”
“Me?” Crowley says, “Naaaah. Never flown on a plane. Never needed to. But I know a bit of fun when I see it.”
You look up at him and sigh, cradling your chin in your hands for effect.
“It really is no wonder why Aziraphale loves you so much.”
“Ngk,” Crowley says, his ears turning pink.
-----
And now, dear Reader, we arrive at Heathrow. Anathema and Newt had met you at the bookshop, and the four of you drove over together in the Bentley after bidding Newt and Muriel goodbye. You spend the entire wait in line at airport security feeling nervous. Airport security is always a test for your nerves to begin with, but this time you have no passport or paperwork of any kind to twiddle in your hands to take the edge off. Instead, you fidget relentlessly with the button in your pocket (Muriel, being an observant and kind soul, had given you a large-ish green button to put in your pocket “Because you seem nervous, and it looked like it helped you last time.” You swear if anyone harms your new best friend while you’re gone you will end them). The line goes quicker than you would like, and when it gets to be your turn, honestly you’re not sure what happens. It all goes smoothly. Did Aziraphale and Crowley miracle you a passport? Did they click a finger or wave a hand to convince the guard that everything was in order? You have no idea, because you’re too focused on your nerves and Trying Not To Look Suspicious While Worrying That This Makes You Look More Suspicious Than You Would If You Could Just Be Normal About This (if you know the feeling, you know why it gets to be capitalized like that).
Once the stress of airport security is done, you head to the bathroom for a break from the chaos so that you can figure out how to breathe again. Normally, you wouldn’t be That Person to occupy the Accessible Washroom, but since you are desperately trying not to have a panic attack because of all the pent-up anxiety from the whole airport security thing, you decide that you Really Cannot Do People Right Now, and that the single-occupant washroom may be your saving grace. You lock the door and sigh, leaning against the cold metal. It’s comparatively quiet here, and you’re grateful for it. Thank Someone. You resolve to try not to be too long in case someone who actually needs this washroom comes by (although I’m gonna be honest here, reader, right now you need this room for invisible accessibility/health reasons). After a minute or two, you are finally starting to feel your anxiety return to a manageable level. Everything is okay. You are traveling with the most ideal companions you could ever dream of, and the worst part is over. Everything from here on out is smooth sailing.
Except, dear reader, you all voted. And So It Shall Be.
You’ve just finished drying your hands.
“Aah,” says a voice behind you. You jump a solid 3 feet in the air. “I thought I might find you here.”
“HOLY! FUCKING! ZOMBIE! JESUS!!!” You sputter.
“Mind your manners, human.”
“Manners?? ME?? This is a WASHROOM.”
The Metatron looks at you blankly and shrugs. Ah yes, the biggest jerk in Heaven doesn’t know or care about washrooms or privacy. Or actually being polite.
“I merely wanted to have a word with you. Away from the others, of course.”
“Yeeeaaaaah,” You say. You’ve seen a million movies (approximate), and read a million books (also approximate), you know what this is. This is the maybe we can still solve this problem quietly plot. And you know that actually having the conversation is a bad idea. “I don’t think so.”
You reach for thee door. It’s locked, and it won’t unlock. Of course. You (gently) pound your head against the door, before turning to face Metatron. You take a breath, and answer as calmly as you can given how angry you are.
“What. Do you want?”
“I merely hoped that we could agree upon...an arrangement.”
“Pretty sure I made it clear back at the bookshop that I’m not letting you anywhere near them.”
“Oh dear, no. This has nothing to do with the demon or with Aziraphale. This is about you.”
You mentally brace yourself. Here comes the manipulation. You inwardly remind yourself of the tropes of villain manipulation and all the things you’ve ever shouted at the tv screen after one of these interactions. You need to be prepared, because apparently you need to play this out. And so, you give him the response he clearly wants.
“What about me?”
“Well, my dear, I only thought that perhaps you might like to go home.”
“Ha! Nice try.”
“You have no desire to return to your family? Your friends? Your life?”
“Not right now, thanks.”
“And you think you’ll get a similar offer later?”
“I mean...well yeah. I don’t know whether I would actually want to go back yet but --”
“You think Aziraphale and his associates will want to keep you as their pet forever? My dear, they only entertain you right now because you’re useful to them.”
Okay, I mean you knew that already but still. Ouch. Hearing it out loud is just...Ouch. Unfortunately, you do not have the Acting Prowess of either Michael Sheen or David Tennant, and so the Metatron sees the Ouch. He smiles kindly.
“Here, you are merely a tool,” he continues, voice smooth as honey, “And back home there are people who love you and value your presence in their lives. Back home there are people who miss you purely because you are you. Here, you are well, a convenience. A help. But that’s all. And once this is all over, there is no promise, no guarantee that you would be able to return. And no reason for Aziraphale to keep you. You would need to start again, and since you needed the help of an angel to get through airport security, I’m guessing that would be very difficult for you. And then, of course, there’s your immortal soul to be concerned about once the Final Judgment comes to pass.”
You ignore the bait, even though it stings. Take a breath. You’ve got this.
“That’s all irrelevant right now,” You say.
“Is it? It seems that you’re….what’s that charming human expression? Flying by the seat of your pants?” He chuckles at his own joke. You smile awkwardly. Well, yes you are, but the heroes in stories do all the time. They figure it out as they go. You are doing no worse than any of them. You don’t find the joke so funny. And frankly his laughter is unsettling.
“Um...” You start uncertainly, “Well if that’s all, then can I go now?”
“In a moment,” the Metatron says smugly. Oh you hate that he has so much control right now. “First I would like to extend to you the offer of some help. I would like to see you home safely, at a time of your choosing. Whenever you feel that you are ready.”
“And you have the power to do that, do you?” You’re skeptical.
“I have the power of all Creation at my disposal.”
“Riiiiight. Just out of the goodness of your own angelic heart. That’s very kind of you Metatron.” You’re not sure if he hears the edge of sarcasm. He shrugs regardless.
“There is of course, one and only one thing I would like from you if you decide to take my help.”
“Oooooof course there is. I’m not letting you near Aziraphale and Crowley.”
“Once again, my dear, this has nothing to do with them. All I would like is to know why your first instinct was to take that coffee. The full truth, mind you. None of that sarcasm or loophole nonsense that you humans are so fond of. And do not be foolish enough to think I can’t tell the difference.” He looks at you pointedly.
That’s...a suspiciously innocuous request. But then again, it usually is with these sort of things, isn’t it? You feign non-chalance and tap your foot for emphasis.
“Are you done yet?” You ask obstinately. The door unlocks audibly behind you.
“Just think about it,” says the Metatron, “No rush.”
Oh yes there is one. You rush to open the door. Never before have you felt so relieved to be in a crowded place.
Don't worry about airplane route logistics or whether or not you can actually get a direct flight from Heathrow to Orlando. Just vote for whatever you would like :)
❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤
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lovecolibri · 2 days
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And yet if it was all questions related to Tommy they wouldn’t have a concern in the world. They like to say stop making it about buddie, and that it should be about just Buck, but then they turn right around and make it all about Tommy and his perfection. But like you said, asking about buddie is asking about bi Buck. And not to mention buddie is 6 years worth of history at this point. And we’ve learned enough the last few days to know a big portion of bucks bi sexuality was in tandom with Eddie. There is next to nothing to go off of in terms of things related to Buck Tommy. They have had a single kiss and a bad date. That’s it. Interviews would get like one question out of that and then end of topic.
Yeah, I just don't get the hype 🤷🏻‍♀️ Which is normal, I'm a chronic mono-shipper so I just avoid ships that aren't for me and block tags and such. But it's hard because right now there is a LOT of mis/cross tagging so I'm trying to just stay in my bubble.
But yeah, it's weird that people are both saying this should ONLY be about Buck but are also mad that it's not more about Tommy. He's a side character whose job is to move the plot forward, and there are lots of other storylines going on that are going to get the focus in upcoming weeks, and they haven't shot the last couple episodes yet so what is Oliver supposed to say? If there are only a couple more scenes with him and Lou coming up while the storyline focuses on Madney, Bobby, and Henren, he won't want to spoil them. If they already have maped out where the relationship reaches its natural end, he's not going to spoil that either but also won't want to super hype up a relationship he knows isn't going to last. He HAS made a point to say he hopes Tommy can stick around as a friend which to me says that the cast enjoys working with Lou and the audience has been mostly receptive so it's a good character for the show to keep in their back pocket as a recurring guest.
But Buddie??? Oliver has YEARS of pent up Buddie stuff he didn't feel like he could talk about, especially after FOX shut down the storyline, and that he's talking about it now tells me conversations have been had with him, Ryan, Tim, and the network about what possibilities are open to them and likely a broad timeline/plan. Which is of course, subject to change as we saw with this originally being planned for Eddie but due to actress availability, got shuffled around but I don't think they would be clearing these questions and Oliver especially would be answering so freely if he didn't feel like it's where things are eventually heading. 🤷🏻‍♀️
Also, I think it's important to remember it's a STORY and so of COURSE people are pulling in threads from previous seasons and connecting the dots because that's what you do with stories. And from the first moment Buck sees Eddie and doesn't quite know what that feeling is that he's getting, it's all been tied up in Eddie, with the show reinforcing that relationship at every turn. Why WOULDN'T people make it about Buddie when the story itself tells us it always has been? I just don't always get the "these stories have to be entirely separate from each other" because beyond all else Buck and Eddie are best friends. Of course their stories are going to include each other and be intertwined! And if Buck is looking at his life with new eyes or Eddie is examining what he actually wants in a partner for himself, why WOULDN'T they examine their relationship with each other since it's the most prominent one they have?
ANYWAY
*i just have a lot of feelings.gif*
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imwriting0verhere · 3 days
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Birthday Surprise
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It’s 11:57pm on April 24th and my friends and family are gathered around me to ring in my 30th birthday at midnight. I don’t always need to have the biggest party or festivities, but you only turn 30 once, and honestly, roughly ten years ago I wasn’t even sure if I would make it till here.
“Thank you all so much for coming eeh, big 30 aye!” I laugh awkwardly, but most of my friends are drunk enough that they just cheer and clap along. “I ceenot wait for this year like. We’ve got some great things cooking! 30’s gonna be great!” I shout into the room, shortly being joined by Dean, Joe, Tom and Jimmy. We’ve all got our arms thrown around each other’s shoulders, beers in hand.
“Alreet alreet” Dean shouts over the party commotion “We’ve only got a few seconds left now. 5,4…”
“3,2,1 HAPPY BIRTHDAY SAM!!!!” everybody in the room joins in and as the clock rings in my special day, Rachael emerges with a big cake that’s shaped like my face. Candles and sparklers atop and I happily accept it.
As is tradition, Dean smacks some cake into my face, we drink a shot together and I’m being pulled into hugs by everyone. My mam, my brother, my girlfriend…
And once the excitement has quieted down a bit and people start eating the cake and refilling their drinks, Y/N stands in front of me. The last person to congratulate me.
“Happy Birthday” she tells me with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes I notice. We share a quick hug but she looks as if she wants to disappear as soon as I let go of her. But talking to her seems to halt her in her spot and she looks up at me
“It���s really good to see yer” I tell her with a genuine smile. She’s one of my dearest friends and also the last person I was in love with. Unfortunately, we had to learn the hard way that moving from a friendship into a relationship doesn’t always end well. But luckily, we managed to save and salvage what we had before and are now able to be friends again.
“Yeah, you too” she replies softly. She’s been really quiet and reserved all evening. She’s barely gotten a word out, keeping mostly to herself even though we share the same group of friends and most of them are here tonight.
“I hope..” “I’m..” we both speak at the same time and I awkwardly rub the back of my neck “Sorry, you go ahead”
“Oh, ehm, I was just saying I’m gan find Rachael and try some of that cake” she says while she’s already turning away, not being able to leave my side fast enough it seems.
“Aye, I hope you’re doing well and we can hang out again soon” I just mumble the rest of my previous thought to myself.
Before I can let Y/N’s strange demeanor get to my head, I spot my brother and his long-time partner in conversation with my girlfriend. Or better, the girl I’ve been seeing for the past 3 months that’s not really my girlfriend because we’re not officially together, but we’re dating and having a good time together so I can’t just call her a fling either. And she was very adamant on being here tonight, so I’m glad she’s getting along with my family too.
About two hours later I see Y/N saying goodbye to Tom and Heidi as well as my mam, before she just waves at the boys and leaves them with a “Bye guys, see yous soon” to which they all smile and wave back, Joe shouting a departing “get home safe”.
She finally spots me and makes her way over
“Saving the best till last I see” I tease her, which elicits only a small tug at her lips. So I really can’t even make my friend smile anymore. With nothing at all apparently. Hm.
“You’re leaving already?” I ask because tonight felt as if she wasn’t even really here and as the night gets longer the crowd gets smaller and it usually only leaves my closest inner circle. Which she is part of and I would’ve loved to spend some more time with her, actually talk to her.
“Yeah sorry, I don’t feel that great staying here any longer” she gives me a look as if to tell me that something is bothering her, and I should know what that something is.
“Thanks for the invite, Sam” she says politely and pulls me into a quick hug that I return.
“Y/N wait!” I hold on to her arm but she instantly coils away and out of my reach
“Let go of me” she hisses quietly, so that nobody else but me can hear.
“Y/N no, what’s going on?” I follow her out into the foyer and out the front door. She’s finally stopping and swiftly turning around to look at me
“I just don’t want to look at this any longer alreet. Maybe I shouldn’t have come” she says the last part more to herself and I’m only getting more and more confused
“But, it’s my birthday” I breath, the first thing that comes to mind. We always spend our birthdays together
“What do yer mean, look at any longer? What’s going on Y/N/N?” I look at her questioningly. She’s looking at her feet, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as if she doesn’t know what to do next. She’s debating whether to tell me or not. But in the next instant she whips her head towards me, her decision made
“You, Sam. You and that girl!” she shouts, angrily pointing at me, she’s almost jabbing her finger into my chest, that’s how close we are standing. Her eyes are wild and brimming with tears.
“I can’t look at it any longer!” she lets go of the breath she was holding. Exhausted just from that simple statement. I look at her bewildered, not believing what I hear. She’s never mentioned having a problem with me seeing someone new. But I’m also just realizing, she hasn’t been around all that much the past few months. And definitely not when my date was around.
“I…didn’t…why have you never said anything?” I truly thought we were doing fine after our breakup last year. I don’t understand what’s happening, I just know that I can’t lose Y/N and I can’t believe I’ve missed the signs of her discomfort.        
“What was I supposed to say Sam? We’re not together anymore. I don’t have any right to tell you what to do and who to date”
“But we’re friends. You know that you can always come to wor” I cautiously take a step closer to her, feeling the overwhelming need to comfort her.
“Sam..” she croaks out and my arms are instantly around her. But she stops me before I can pull her into an embrace. She’s holding onto my forearms. She’s so close, I can feel her ragged breath on the front of my shirt. But her eyes won’t meet mine
“I don’t know how to be around you anymore. I…I thought I was over you. I thought I was okay with our breakup, healed, and moved on.”
She finally lifts her head and my gaze instantly falls onto hers. And what I see breaks me. Red rimmed eyes, a few stray tears have already fallen, making her cheeks wet. She looks scared and broken, and I can’t believe that I didn’t know about this. About how she felt and what kind of emotional distress she must have gone through these last months.
“Y/N/N…I didn’t know” I croak. Embarrassment creeping in and I'm mentally kicking myself for being so oblivious again.
“I know. Because we never had that last talk” she sniffs and drops my arms in favor of pulling her thin coat tighter around herself. Crossing her arms in front of her chest, protecting herself from the cold, and protecting her heart from any more damage.
“We never sat down and talked about how our relationship, and the breakup really affected us. I just tried to be okay and be happy about the things I still have. And you started seeing someone else” she smiles at that, but it’s a bittersweet kind of smile. And I can see new tears gathering in her eyes.
“Sweetheart, you should’ve come n' talked to me aboot it. Nonetheless if I’m seeing someone new or not”
“I just couldn’t Sam. I couldn’t because every time I thought about talking to you and what I would say to you, I knew I would just end up in tears. And then I found out about you and her and…” she’s letting me cup her cheek this time, and I’m softly swiping her tears away before she continues
“I was so scared of today. Of what it would mean if she’s here tonight, and I see her.”
“Y/N A’m so sorry!” I tell her earnestly, searching her face because I need her to believe me. I never meant to hurt her this way.
“Tell me what I can do to make it better”
“Sam I...” she sniffs before looking back up at me “I don’t think there’s anything you can do. I don’t think it’s good for me to be around you right now” and I can feel my insides crumble at that
“Y/N/N no, don’t say that” I beg her, tears shooting into my own eyes now and I can feel them softly rolling down my face.
“I still love you too much. And I can’t see you with another girl. I can’t heal like this Sam! When every time I look at you, a small part inside me still breaks.” She closes her eyes at that and I lean my cheek onto her head, pulling her a little bit closer because I know how final this moment is. Of course I will give her the time and space to heal, but this could just as well mean this is our last time together, and we might never come back from this. I press a final kiss onto her forehead before I speak again
“I can’t lose you”
“I’m so sorry” she whispers back and pulls further away from me “You’ll be okay” she takes my hand from her face and gently squeezes it one last time before she drops it and it falls at my side. I instantly miss her warmth, her soft touch.
“Happy Birthday Sam” she says with a voice full of sorrow and heartbreak. As she turns her back towards me and begins to make her short way home, the look of pain and longing in her face haunts me. And I’m sure it perfectly reflects mine.                 
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frostbite-the-bat · 5 months
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remembering old fandoms and rps and aus i had and im realizing this isnt the first time an au version of frostbite interacted a lot with someone who at least in text had a quirk that does something to the letter s which is ironic considering their name
#...........im talking about hr again sorry my condition gets worse each day especially when im more open about it#the previous/other one was a few years back.#it was . my gorillaz days...! and my gangreen gang specific hyperfix...! (never actually watched ppg)#they were besties with snake and there was a joke they adopted him and that he was their “sssson” even if they were only like a year older#our au ggg was very different bc it was like 4-3 ppl rping our own shit but it was very found family and backstories were Angsty#and obviously snake hisssssesss hisss letter sss#then hr haff hiff liffp#fun fact i used to have a pretty nasty lisp when i was younger before i got my teeth fixed up a bit so i honestly unironically love#characters with any kind of lisp even if its the daffy duck kind (who may be a bit hard for me to understand when voice acted like that but#i still Enjoy)#(i need subtitles for literally anything anyway)#anyways ggg au frostbite is also the edgiest of all the au frostbites that exist#least developed/just cool design is glamrock frost#most developed as a character and MOST goofy is toontown frost#anyways back on the lisp whoever put the letter s into the word lisp genuinely needs to die. and the word stop. yes i got bullied about#my lisp why do you ask#ok since im rambling heres a bigger ramble#both gorillaz and hr make me feel better abt my teeth#all the band members in gorillaz have mad fucked up teeth and i didnt have access to a good dentist until like 2020. i was endlessly#bullied for my teeth and i had difficulities eating some things and other health issues because i had horrid teeth bc of genes + my parents#didnt teach me to clean my teeth properly like wow you gotta go BETWEEN the teeth. the white stuff that covers your teeth ISNT GOOD ACTUALL#and hr has a mad overbite and i have that too so that makes me feel better..ive been rlly subconscious abt that lately actually#still wondering why nobody bothered gettin that fixed but i guess everything else was a bigger issue#and the fact i was missing my front teeth#yeah my health back then wasnt the best ! and i was bullied abt it even by my own best friends parents! no good! but seeing silly band#members who r fictional who i was hyperfixated on helped me feel better#man wish i could hide stuff from appearing in tag searches bc i just like rambling in the tags#but then i say one word and it appears in the tags and im super subconsious about it now bc i made one ramble and boom why is it in the#hr tag :sob: :skull:#OH WELL.
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deus-ex-mona · 2 years
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when you can never forget… _(:3 」∠)_
#mad cringe 3am rant incoming pls stand by—#…so i found my enstars screenshots from 2018 and i don’t even remember half of them happening h e l p#there’s stuff like spamming for repayment fes event nazuna niichan till i had 0 dia left…#…and making ship birthday board things for the 2019 birthday events. i made leokasa and subahokke ones s o bs#and i think i saw a makoizu ss from the librarian event? the outfit + blushing seaweed head sure looks like it’s from that event#(tfw you’re the only one shipping this problematic ship lmao)#also speaking of enstars hi are there any other hokke recasting rejectors out there👀👀👀#hokke’s current va has been voicing him for much longer than his previous va ever did and i *still* can’t get used to his ‘new’ voice lmao#i remember benching his 5☆ so fast the moment i heard his ‘new’ voice post-recasting. sad times. initial hokke was my first 5☆ too…#but the most cringe memory i have of enstars is… downloading it thinking it was a haikyuu game bc subaru lowkey looks like hinata.#in my defence i couldn’t read japanese back then ok. i was so confused when they told me to pick an idol unit bc ‘where my volleyboys at???’#i really should’ve realised something was up when i saw hokke (or as i thought he was back then: haru from the swimming anime) appear smh#it took me like 2 months to get through the tutorial bc i was so confused. 0/10 experience; should’ve quit enstars on the first uninstall#but lmao i still have the og enstars app unupdated on my old phone. it still has the dumb 4th anni thing on the icon. time flies…#and well if you read this for some reason or other… go listen to ‘crush of judgement’ or ‘sei shounen yuugi’👀 they’re the best songs (imo)#also nazuna niichan is the bestest boy and prettiest boy and the cutest boy and have you seen his frozen ice card it’s so cute and aaaaaaa—#also now that that’s done can i talk about my 3.5 year long love live phase—#ok i think i got enough cringe out of my system for now.#tune in in a few hours for (maybe) more cringe tag blubbering about shin jidai this time (provided my dvd comes in today dhl p l s—)#it is suiyoubi my dudes#inedible blubbering
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demilypyro · 5 months
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So I've seen a few too many people on twitter talking about The Kiss Scene from the new Scott Pilgrim anime. People saying it's fetishistic and indulgent, people calling it male gazey, etc. And while the kiss itself is certainly a bit exaggerated, I felt like writing a bit about why I disagree, and why context is important, like it always is. But it basically turned into an extended analysis on the metatextual treatment of Roxie Richter. So bear with me. It's a long post.
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What really matters about this scene is not the kiss itself, but what precedes it. Not even just the fight scene just before it, but what precedes the whole anime series, really. And that's the Scott Pilgrim comic book, and the live action movie. Because in both, Roxie is a punchline.
She's a joke. Her character starts and ends with "one of the exes is actually a girl, I bet you didn't expect that." Jokes are made about Ramona's latent bisexuality, the movie especially treating it as funny and absurd, and her validity as a romantic interest is entirely written off by Ramona as being "just a phase." There's a fight scene, she's defeated by a man giving her an orgasm which implicitly calls her sexuality into question (come on), and the movie just moves on. It sucks. It really, really sucks.
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The comic fares a little better. It never veers into outright homophobia like the movie does, and while the line about Ramona having gone through a phase remains, Roxie actually gets one over on Scott when Ramona briefly gets back with Roxie. But Roxie is still only barely a character. Like all the other evil exes, she's just a stepping stone towards the male protagonist's development. She barely even gets any screentime before she's defeated by Scott's "power of love." But Roxie stands out, since she's the only villain who is queer, or at least had been confirmed queer at that point (hi Todd). In a series that champions multiple gay men in the supporting cast, the single undeniable lesbian in the story is a villain. She's labeled as evil, made fun of, pushed aside in favor of the men, and then discarded. Her screentime was never about her, or her feelings for Ramona. It was about the straight, male protagonist needing to overcome her. And that was Roxie Richter. An unfortunate victim of the 2010s.
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Fast forward to current year, and the new anime series is announced. Everybody sits down to watch the new series expecting another retelling of the same story, and.... hang on, that straight male protagonist I mentioned just died in the first episode. And now it's humanizing the villains from the original story. And there's Roxie, introduced alongside the other evil exes in the second episode, and she's being played entirely straight, without a punchline in sight. No jokes are made about her gender, no questions are made of her validity as one of Ramona's romantic interests. The narrative considers her important. In one episode, she already gets more respect than she did in either of the previous iterations of Scott Pilgrim. And this isn't even her focus episode yet... which happens to be the very next one.
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The anime series goes to great lengths to flesh out the original story's villains and to have Ramona reconcile with them. And I don't think it's a coincidence that Roxie gets to go first. While Matthew Patel gets his development in episode 2, Roxie is the first to directly confront Ramona, now our main protagonist. This is notable too because it's the only time the exes are encountered out of order. Roxie is supposed to be number 4, but she's first in line, and later on you realize that she's the only one who's out of sequence. She's the one who sets the precedent for the villains being redeemed. She's the most important character for Ramona to reconcile with.
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What follows is probably the most extensive, elaborate 1 on 1 fight scene in the whole show. Roxie fights like a wounded animal, her motions are desperate and pained. Ramona can only barely fight back against her onslaught. Different set-pieces fly by at breakneck speed as Roxie relentlessly lays her feelings at Ramona's feet through her attacks and her distraught shouts. And unlike the comic or the movie, Ramona acknowledges them, and sincerely apologizes. And the two end up just laying there, exhausted, reminiscing about when they were together.
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Only after this, after all of this, does the kiss scene happen. Roxie has been vindicated, she has reconciled with the person who hurt her, the narrative has deemed that her anger is justified and has redeemed her character. And she gets her victory lap by making the nearest other hot girl question her heterosexuality, sharing a sloppy kiss with her as the music triumphantly crescendos.
It's... a little self-congratulatory, honestly. But it's good. It's redemption for a character who had been mistreated for over a decade. And she punctuates the moment by being very, very gay where everyone can see it, no men anywhere in sight. Because this is her moment. And then she leaves the plot, on her own accord this time, while humming the hampster dance. What a legend. How could anything be wrong with this.
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reasonsforhope · 4 months
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Ancient redwoods recover from fire by sprouting 1000-year-old buds
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Article | Paywall free
When lightning ignited fires around California’s Big Basin Redwoods State Park north of Santa Cruz in August 2020, the blaze spread quickly. Redwoods naturally resist burning, but this time flames shot through the canopies of 100-meter-tall trees, incinerating the needles. “It was shocking,” says Drew Peltier, a tree ecophysiologist at Northern Arizona University. “It really seemed like most of the trees were going to die.”
Yet many of them lived. In a paper published yesterday in Nature Plants, Peltier and his colleagues help explain why: The charred survivors, despite being defoliated [aka losing all their needles], mobilized long-held energy reserves—sugars that had been made from sunlight decades earlier—and poured them into buds that had been lying dormant under the bark for centuries.
“This is one of those papers that challenges our previous knowledge on tree growth,” says Adrian Rocha, an ecosystem ecologist at the University of Notre Dame. “It is amazing to learn that carbon taken up decades ago can be used to sustain its growth into the future.” The findings suggest redwoods have the tools to cope with catastrophic fires driven by climate change, Rocha says. Still, it’s unclear whether the trees could withstand the regular infernos that might occur under a warmer climate regime.
Mild fires strike coastal redwood forests about every decade. The giant trees resist burning thanks to the bark, up to about 30 centimeters thick at the base, which contains tannic acids that retard flames. Their branches and needles are normally beyond the reach of flames that consume vegetation on the ground. But the fire in 2020 was so intense that even the uppermost branches of many trees burned and their ability to photosynthesize went up in smoke along with their pine needles.
Trees photosynthesize to create sugars and other carbohydrates, which provide the energy they need to grow and repair tissue. Trees do store some of this energy, which they can call on during a drought or after a fire. Still, scientists weren’t sure these reserves would prove enough for the burned trees of Big Basin.
Visiting the forest a few months after the fire, Peltier and his colleagues found fresh growth emerging from blackened trunks. They knew that shorter lived trees can store sugars for several years. Because redwoods can live for more than 2000 years, the researchers wondered whether the trees were drawing on much older energy reserves to grow the sprouts.
Average age is only part of the story. The mix of carbohydrates also contained some carbon that was much older. The way trees store their sugar is like refueling a car, Peltier says. Most of the gasoline was added recently, but the tank never runs completely dry and so a few molecules from the very first fill-up remain. Based on the age and mass of the trees and their normal rate of photosynthesis, Peltier calculated that the redwoods were calling on carbohydrates photosynthesized nearly 6 decades ago—several hundred kilograms’ worth—to help the sprouts grow. “They allow these trees to be really fire-resilient because they have this big pool of old reserves to draw on,” Peltier says.
It's not just the energy reserves that are old. The sprouts were emerging from buds that began forming centuries ago. Redwoods and other tree species create budlike tissue that remains under the bark. Scientists can trace the paths of these buds, like a worm burrowing outward. In samples taken from a large redwood that had fallen after the fire, Peltier and colleagues found that many of the buds, some of which had sprouted, extended back as much as 1000 years. “That was really surprising for me,” Peltier says. “As far as I know, these are the oldest ones that have been documented.”
... “The fact that the reserves used are so old indicates that they took a long time to build up,” says Susan Trumbore, a radiocarbon expert at the Max Planck Institute for Biogeochemistry. “Redwoods are majestic organisms. One cannot help rooting for those resprouts to keep them alive in decades to come.”
-via Science, December 1, 2023
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cocklessboy · 10 months
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The biggest male privilege I have so far encountered is going to the doctor.
I lived as a woman for 35 years. I have a lifetime of chronic health issues including chronic pain, chronic fatigue, respiratory issues, and neurodivergence (autistic + ADHD). There's so much wrong with my body and brain that I have never dared to make a single list of it to show a doctor because I was so sure I would be sent directly to a psychologist specializing in hypochondria (sorry, "anxiety") without getting a single test done.
And I was right. Anytime I ever tried to bring up even one of my health issues, every doctor's initial reaction was, at best, to look at me with doubt. A raised eyebrow. A seemingly casual, offhand question about whether I'd ever been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. Even female doctors!
We're not talking about super rare symptoms here either. Joint pain. Chronic joint pain since I was about 19 years old. Back pain. Trouble breathing. Allergy-like reactions to things that aren't typically allergens. Headaches. Brain fog. Severe insomnia. Sensitivity to cold and heat.
There's a lot more going on than that, but those were the things I thought I might be able to at least get some acknowledgement of. Some tests, at least. But 90% of the time I was told to go home, rest, take a few days off work, take some benzos (which they'd throw at me without hesitation), just chill out a bit, you'll be fine. Anxiety can cause all kinds of odd symptoms.
Anyone female-presenting reading this is surely nodding along. Yup, that's just how doctors are.
Except...
I started transitioning about 2.5 years ago. At this point I have a beard, male pattern baldness, a deep voice, and a flat chest. All of my doctors know that I'm trans because I still haven't managed to get all the paperwork legally changed, but when they look at me, even if they knew me as female at first, they see a man.
I knew men didn't face the same hurdles when it came to health care, but I had no idea it was this different.
The last time I saw my GP (a man, fairly young, 30s or so), I mentioned chronic pain, and he was concerned to see that it wasn't represented in my file. Previous doctors hadn't even bothered to write it down. He pushed his next appointment back to spend nearly an hour with me going through my entire body while I described every type of chronic pain I had, how long I'd had it, what causes I was aware of. He asked me if I had any theories as to why I had so much pain and looked at me with concerned expectation, hoping I might have a starting point for him. He immediately drew up referrals for pain specialists (a profession I didn't even know existed till that moment) and physical therapy. He said depending on how it goes, he may need to help me get on some degree of disability assistance from the government, since I obviously shouldn't be trying to work full-time under these circumstances.
Never a glimmer of doubt in his eye. Never did he so much as mention the word "anxiety".
There's also my psychiatrist. He diagnosed me with ADHD last year (meeting me as a man from the start, though he knew I was trans). He never doubted my symptoms or medical history. He also took my pain and sleep issues seriously from the start and has been trying to help me find medications to help both those things while I go through the long process of seeing other specialists. I've had bad reactions to almost everything I've tried, because that's what always happens. Sometimes it seems like I'm allergic to the whole world.
And then, just a few days ago, the most shocking thing happened. I'd been wondering for a while if I might have a mast cell condition like MCAS, having read a lot of informative posts by @thebibliosphere which sounded a little too relatable. Another friend suggested it might explain some of my problems, so I decided to mention it to the psychiatrist, fully prepared to laugh it off. Yeah, a friend thinks I might have it, I'm not convinced though.
His response? That's an interesting theory. It would be difficult to test for especially in this country, but that's no reason not to try treatments and see if they are helpful. He adjusted his medication recommendations immediately based on this suggestion. He's researching an elimination diet to diagnose my food sensitivities.
I casually mentioned MCAS, something routinely dismissed by doctors with female patients, and he instantly took the possibility seriously.
That's it. I've reached peak male privilege. There is nothing else that could happen that could be more insane than that.
I literally keep having to hold myself back from apologizing or hedging or trying to frame my theories as someone else's idea lest I be dismissed as a hypochondriac. I told the doctor I'd like to make a big list of every health issue I have, diagnosed and undiagnosed, every theory I've been given or come up with myself, and every medication I've tried and my reactions to it - something I've never done because I knew for a fact no doctor would take me seriously if they saw such a list all at once. He said it was a good idea and could be very helpful.
Female-presenting people are of course not going to be surprised by any of this, but in my experience, male-presenting people often are. When you've never had a doctor scoff at you, laugh at you, literally say "I won't consider that possibility until you've been cleared by a psychologist" for the most mundane of health problems, it might be hard to imagine just how demoralizing it is. How scary it becomes going to the doctor. How you can internalize the idea that you're just imagining things, making a big deal out of nothing.
Now that I'm visibly a man, all of my doctors are suddenly very concerned about the fact that I've been simply living like this for nearly four decades with no help. And I know how many women will have to go their whole lives never getting that help simply because of sexism in the medical field.
If you know a doctor, show them this story. Even if they are female. Even if they consider themselves leftists and feminists and allies. Ask them to really, truly, deep down, consider whether they really treat their male and female patients the same. Suggest that the next time they hear a valid complaint from a male patient, imagine they were a woman and consider whether you'd take it seriously. The next time they hear a frivolous-sounding complaint from a female patient, imagine they were a man and consider whether it would sound more credible.
It's hard to unlearn these biases. But it simply has to be done. I've lived both sides of this issue. And every doctor insists they treat their male and female patients the same. But some of the doctors astonished that I didn't get better care in the past are the same doctors who dismissed me before.
I'm glad I'm getting the care I need, even if it is several decades late. And I'm angry that it took so long. And I'm furious that most female-presenting people will never have this chance.
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velvetures · 9 months
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Got Me Snoring
A/N: One of my favorite things inspired by all the Ghost/König cosplayer TikToks using that one, song audio. Summary: Ghost admits getting head is boring. Reader isn't happy with that idea and goes about changing his mind. T/W: NS/FW 18+ Only, blowjobs, deepthroating, size kink if you squint, spit?, cursing, aggressive tension?, taunting, not proofread, and it's been a long ass time since I've written full-on smut.
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“All I’m sayin’ is that if she calls again, I’m not about to answer.” Soap’s voice carried from the living space of the hotel room to the kitchenette where you stood microwaving some rice from a convenience store down the street.
After-mission talk always leads to the most strange conversations. Maybe the adrenaline or the high of getting almost killed got everyone in a talking mood. However as the Captain slid behind you to go grab more ice outside in the hallway, you couldn’t help but shoot him a questioning look. They’d been talking about their previous accomplishments and failures in the bedroom for nearly twenty minutes, and thankfully they’d not roped you into the ridiculous conversation but with the Captain leaving out of the room, it drew their eyesight right to you standing patiently for your instant rice to finish cooking.
“What about you, huh?” Gaz was the one to poke a little. “Have any horror stories from the bedroom?” His eyebrows raised in mischievous curiosity as all three men sat staring at you with great intent.
“I’ve faked it plenty of times.” You reply offhandedly, waving a hand at them and going back to staring at the small plastic cup rotating around in the microwave.
You overheard the men pass through the moment of silence with low laughs, most noticeably, Ghost. Who’d apparently found something very funny and decided to grace everyone with the sound of deep and resounding chuckles. With a gloved hand, you take out your food and rejoin them in the room, finding a spot on the corner of one of the beds and crossing your legs to hold the bowl while you watch and listen to more of their recounted stories.
Soap complained more about the one night he’d met up with one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met, and drank himself into oblivion to try and ease his nerves. The only problem was, that when he finally had enough liquid courage to make a move, he couldn’t get it up. Even watching him recount the tale now, you could see his embarrassment. You couldn’t imagine just how beautiful that woman had to be for Soap to give himself whiskey-dick so bad that to this day he regretted the memory and undoubtedly wished he could take it back. Gaz got pressured into retelling the story of the woman he met in Russia just for you since you’d never heard it; Detailing just how she’d been absolutely obsessed with him right from the get-go.
She couldn’t stop fawning over his accent and just how downright good-looking he was. Gaz on the other hand felt very embarrassed and never really tried to take things further on that trip. Fortunately for him, on a trip back a few months later for pleasure, he ran into the woman again and this time around she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Soap and Ghost laughed, poking fun at how utterly exhausted Garrick was when he met up with them in London. His shit-eating grin was more than enough for them to surmise that his little Russian vixen had taken him for a hell of a ride.
Then there was Ghost.
He didn’t have much to say in the way of his own successes, but did share one or two small comparisons with the other two as they kept pulling out detail after detail about the many people they’d met over the years and how they either felt they’d left their mark… or totally fucking missed it. All of it came to a very interesting topic that you suddenly became very interested in when Ghost uttered one single statement that left your mouth hanging open and staring at him almost in disbelief.
“I don’t like someone blowin’ my cock,” his voice sounded flat. Totally unbothered and nearly sleeping at the idea. “Never cared much for it when half doesn’t fit.”
You couldn’t help but insert yourself into the conversation after a long hour or so of sitting like a viewer at a movie. “Wait a second… You mean to tell me you don’t like getting head because you're too big?” The gasp in your tone was obvious, and even Soap and Gaz looked at him a little strangely as if they didn’t truly believe the idea either. It gave you a bit more reassurance in your belief that almost all men enjoyed it. Sure, there was the odd chance that Ghost just didn’t like it at all, but you really wanted to hear his explanation if he’d give you one.
The Lieutenant turned to look at you and nodded stiffly. “Yeah, ‘bout always puts me to sleep.”
It was at this point you felt the slightest urge to tell him he’d never had someone give him a legitimately good blowjob before. But before you could even say something to the contrary, a thought crossed your mind. Ghost didn’t seem like the kind of man who attracted ill-experienced women. Especially when he had already proven throughout the evening that his previous encounters were much more interesting and expansive than even that of yourself. Something a bit… jealous rose inside of you at the thought.
Imagining your Lieutenant laying on his back and hardly making any sort of sound while someone pulls out every single trick in their arsenal to make a blowjob somewhat entertaining or arousing. You didn’t necessarily profess yourself to have a crush on Ghost, due to just how grey the line between operators and anything felt when you spent so much time together under high-stress environments. There was bound to be some level of emotional attachment that devolved past… professional. And for whatever it was, knowing that Ghost had such a bad opinion on the receiving end of pleasure became a challenge you wanted to overcome.
About that time, Price returned with half-melted ice and a half-smoked cigar hanging between his lips.
“Finished talking about chasin’ tail yet?” He grumbled, walking past the group of you still sitting around each other like a bunch of kids getting caught staying up late by Dad at a sleepover. “Wanna go to fuckin’ sleep.”
He dropped the ice bucket down on the dresser with a little thud before settling himself down on the pull-out couch with his hat covering his eyes and both arms resting behind his head with that cigar still puffing smoke rings into the air. Ghost was the first to stand up, making his way out of the hotel room without as much as a comment about when he’d be back or where he was going. Your eyes trailed over his shoulders tapering into a slim waist before giving way again to thick and muscular thighs enhanced by all of gear still strapped to his body. His kit did leave a lot to the imagination. And god did your mind start to wander as both Soap and Gaz began winding down, settling themselves down to sleep for the night or at least lay somewhere quietly so the Captain didn’t lose any more of his patience and kick someone out or force them to pay for their own room. Not nearly tired enough with all of the questions and thoughts about Ghost now floating through your mind, you didn’t care the least bit about laying down or pretending not to care about the fact of the matter and headed out of the hotel room after the Lieutenant as Soap turned out the final lamp in the corner of the room.
The air was a bit cold outside without your jacket, breath materializing in front of you in light wisps of fog with every exhale as you looked down both ends of the hallway hoping to see some sign of where Ghost might’ve gone to. Down on the far left side, a larger cloud of smoke blew past the breezeway entrance and you knew right away that Ghost would be at the end of it. And when your eyes peeked around the corner, you weren’t the least bit surprised to see him with a shoulder resting up against the wall; his back to you with enough of his mask pulled up so that he could smoke a cigarette. The sweet vanilla and cherry smell hit you like a wall, reminding you that Ghost preferred rolling his own cigarettes and used pipe tobacco instead of buying packs of anything else.
Leaves no trace behind… He’d explained without prompting one night after noticing that you’d been watching him.
“Followin’ me now?” His voice heavy with smoke and unhindered by his mask landed directly on you, not even needing to turn around to know you were the one tailing after him.
“Couldn’t let you freeze to death alone.” You reply with a little smile, taking it as your chance to go ahead and walk -slowly- over to him giving him the privacy to smoke without needing to fuss with keeping his face covered.
By standing just at his back leaning against the wall, he knew right where you were, and it put the weight of conversation on him for the moment. He gave you a gruff sort of sound and took another drag off his cigarette before turning just far enough to offer it to you. You take it from his gloved fingers carefully, licking your lips a little in slight nervousness. This wasn’t the first time he’d offered you a hit, but it was the first time you’d ever actually taken him up on it. Seeing the damp rolling paper on the end made you shiver a little; Hopefully, the cold weather would be a good enough excuse to keep him from recognizing your sudden anxiety around him. Wrapping your lips around it and inhaling, you’re a little more than guilty for noticing the taste of Ghost instead of the vanilla and cherry. With a quick glance to your side, you saw his mask was pulled back down over his mouth and his dark eyes were focused right on you as you blew the smoke out of your mouth and back in through your nose. Attempting to hand it back, he just shakes his head.
“You didn’t come out here to be cold,” He finally broke the silence. “What’d you really want from me?”
No matter how long you spent around Ghost, you never got used to just how miserably direct Ghost could be. Like nothing was truly surprising to him or worth being the least bit delicate over. Even if it concerned someone -like yourself- at least attempting to be a little more discretionary. Yet you sighed and took another drag before tossing the rest of it down on the concrete, putting out the ember with the toe of your boot.
“Were you lying earlier?” Your question falls a little short of confident, giving Ghost the impression right away that you were nervous. For a split second, you thought you saw the phantom of a smile under the cover of his mask before it was quickly hidden back under late-night shadow and white paint. Ghost put his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt and gave a sigh, making more fog swirl around and through the woven material around his mouth. Another thought of what his mouth looked like flashed through your failing mind.
“Why would it matter?”
You licked at your bottom lip, trying to figure out a way to word this without sounding desperate or downright shameless in front of your commanding officer… you shouldn't be thinking about doing this in the first place. So many more bad outcomes could come of this than the one good one. Even then, it was risky. Leaving you a bit dazed and staring at Ghost.
“Asked you a question. I’m expectin’ an answer.” He pressed forward, a slight swagger in his hips as he got closer to you, resting a hand on the wall and tilting his head a little to the side. Damn near mocking you for being so much smaller and easily intimidated. You look down at your boots for a moment, deciding to just put your money where your mouth is and take the hit no matter the outcome.
“If you weren’t lying…” You look up, internally screaming at how heavy his eyes look down on you. “I’d like to try and change your mind.”
A deep chuckle comes from the Lieutenant in response followed by his heavy hand resting on your shoulder, almost totally engulfing it.
“You’re jokin’,” His voice lowered with humor that made you almost shrivel up and die inside. “Why would I let you do that?” You give a frustrated sigh and take a step back away from Ghost. Mentally and physically distancing yourself from the slight Ghost had given you by accident or otherwise.
“Never mind.” You give a short nod and turn on your heel to head back to the hotel room and find somewhere to curl up on the floor or in a bed with someone and try to sleep off your damaged ego.
Yet five steps away from Ghost, you’re stopped short with his arm snaked around your waist tightly and his mouth resting against your ear with a heavy and hot breath fanning against your neck. His palm spreads over your stomach and squeezes almost aggressively at the soft flesh under your shirt. Tall and wide, Ghost yanks your back flush to his chest as a silent threat.
“Don’t fuckin’ walk away from me,” His low growl makes you shiver. “I’m not finished with ya.”
In an instant, you’re spun around and hauled aggressively with your back against the nearest wall with Ghost’s chest holding you from fighting back. His legs limit your ability to try and escape out from under his arms, and while one hand is flat against your chest, the other restricts both your wrists above your head. Breath evacuates your lungs with the sudden shock of your back against the wall, but your eyes are locked on Ghost’s as he glares at you harshly through the wavering mist of his breath in the cold air.
“Now I’ve got you pacified…” His smirk was clear in tone, outright mocking you by pressing those massive thighs tighter against yours. “Let’s continue shall we?” The gloved hand pressed against your heaving chest slides up to grasp firmly at your chin and jerk it up to look him in the eyes.
“Why don’t you be a good little thing and tell me why you think you could change my mind, and maybe… I won’t punish you for talkin’ shit to your superior officer.” He spat loudly, his face less than an inch from yours, eyes flaming with aggression.
“Sorry Lieutenant…” You mutter stiffly through the struggle of his hand against your jaw. “Thought I could do better.” You add a lot weaker, averting your eyes as far from Ghost as you can.
“What was that?” He made dark fun of you, terribly obvious, and downright happy with himself. “Say it again.”
You squirm in his grasp, only to get your wrists slid up higher on the wall and a thigh shoved between your own to lift your feet almost totally off the ground. Toes tapping the ground, Ghost holds you totally of his own power without the slightest effort needed to keep you held right where he wanted you to be.
“Thought I could do better.” You repeat yourself louder, and more clearly, feeling utterly stupid for enduring such pathetic treatment. Only you knew it was your fault for letting such a pipe dream of an idea come to reality by prodding Ghost about his sex life so confidently. The masked man hummed lowly, tilting his head as he inspected your face lighted only by a small sliver of moonlight creeping around the corner of the hallway.
“Better, huh?” Ghost chuckles darkly, this thumb tracing over the bottom curve of your lip carefully. “That’s a lot of confidence for someone so small.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Size has nothing to do with it.”
Ghost barks laughter, grumbling something under his breath before dropping his hand away from your jaw and releasing one of your hands to press against his groin. You can’t miss his meaning from the massive erection pressing back against your hand and twitching impatiently when your Lieutenant squeezes your hand around it tighter. A growl escapes his throat and he looks up at you with almost evil eyes.
“Still think size doesn’t matter, little one?” He questions, one eyebrow raising above the hemline of his mask.
Your mouth falls open in shock. Not only because of the sheer girth of Ghost’s cock pulsing in your hand but realizing that he was actually taking your proposal seriously no matter how aggressive his mockery of you was. It shouldn’t have been so damn surprising when taking into account just how large of a man Ghost is. Surely everything would be proportionate, and his erection was proof of it.
Your face is enough to make Ghost chuckle. “That’s what I thought…”
It’s enough of a dismissal that thaws your speechlessness and throws you right back into the present with enough of the guts to speak up for your own desires.
“I can do it,” You blurt breathlessly, fingers tracing along the curve of Ghost’s dick and earning a lusty growl from him. “I can make it good. I’ll make it fit.” You nod your head feverishly in an attempt to keep your chance open. Ghost’s eyes widen at your desperation and his cock twitches hard in your palm with the sound of your shallow breaths and pleading eyes.
“You want it, huh?” He questions, mask moving like he’s grinning under it.
“Then get on your fuckin’ knees.”
The moment his hands release you, you feel yourself sliding down the wall until your knees make a bruising thud against the concrete floor in front of Ghost. Your hands holding on his thighs without the slightest care that you were standing in the middle of a hotel breezeway where anyone could see you. A weight settled in your lower stomach with the idea of anyone coming out of their room and witnessing such a sight.
“My belt.” Ghost instructs a bit pinched, looking down at you with his chin almost touching his chest.
You’re frantic yet shaking as your hands slide up his thighs and begin pulling his belt loose, hearing that metallic clink as you pull the two sides apart with a watering mouth. No instruction is necessary for you to know where to go next, and as you unbutton his cargo pants, your free hand palms his cock as you pull down just enough of his waistband to expose him but not make him cold. Ghost’s hands help just a little, settling extra material where he prefers it, almost patiently holding up his own hoodie and t-shirt out of your way as you slid your hands under his boxers.
“Fuck…” Ghost mutters quietly, tensing when your fingers wrap around his base and free him from his underwear.
Your thumb smears over his swollen head soft enough to not make him jerk away with sensitivity, and you lick your lips at just how wet his cock already is from sheer anticipation. Hell, you were turned on too, practically dripping in your underwear at the sight of Ghost with nothing but a perfect dick exposed and ready for your mouth. The first lick is a teasing one. Flattening it over his head just because you couldn’t wait to taste him, gathering up his arousal, and making it a point to swallow with your eyes locked right on Ghost’s. You're certain it’s enough to affect him just by the way he grunts and rests both of his hands against the wall behind you to steady himself.
When your lips wrap around his tip and slide down towards his base slowly, you hollow your lips and suck hard. Almost mimicking drinking through a straw with both hands wrapped around his thick base to restrict blood flow, adding to his sensitivity. You feel his feet flex in his boots next to your thighs and another low grunt. It spurs you forward, sinking down further and massaging your tongue on the underside before raising back up to lick at his frenulum and repeating the process with quiet whines each time he’s unable to hold back some sound.
“Shit-” He hisses after no more than a couple of minutes, jerking his hips back away from you and moving your hands out of the way so he could tighten his own fist around his cock with a heaving chest.
He stays like that for a few moments, undoubtedly trying to stave off the pleasure you’d been giving before his eyes meet yours again and they’re downright hungry and raging with fury that you’d brought him so close without any extra fancy moves or those fake moans that porn always showed. With one quick movement, he stepped closer and tilted your head back until it gently rested against the wall behind you, his cock smearing your own spit and his arousal over your open and awaiting mouth.
“You look pretty like this…” He muttered, rubbing his length over your face and tapping it teasingly against your mouth. “You hungry for more?” You’re sticking out your tongue and nodding right away, earning you a tense chuckle and the feeling of Ghost’s dick sliding into your mouth while his hand cushions the back of your head from the wall.
“Let me feed it to ya,” He grunts. “Shove my fat cock in your mouth and fuck your throat..” He adds with a feral sort of sound mixing with an ever-thickening accent.
You moan around his length, feeling your jaw muscles begin to start aching when your nose just barely grazes his pubic bone and his tip touches the back of your throat. He’s thick enough to qualify as the largest you’ve ever experienced, but you’re not the slightest bit concerned about whether he’ll be able to fit. You know he’ll make it fit if nothing else.
And him utterly pounding your throat sounded so hot that you tried pushing further down on his shaft yourself. Eager to feel Ghost as deep in you as possible. Ghost obliges you, and rocks his hips forward slowly, easing his thick head past that ring of pressure at the back of your throat and cursing under his breath when a wet, gurgling sound vibrates around his shaft as you begin swallowing around him.
“Bloody, fuucckk yes…” His groans punch through the quiet air, far louder than he should be risking in such a public space. But he’s only getting started with this experience as your nose presses against his pubic bone, and his hand flattens against the wall.
“So tight… doggin’ me right where anyone can see.”
It’s the thought that had you so eager, and right away you felt just how much it turned Ghost on too. Because the second he said it, he pulled back just a fraction and pushed himself back down your throat, beginning tight and quick thrusts that made your eyes roll back. He kept a furious pace, growling and holding tight to the back of your head until you tapped at the back of his thigh a few times, and he pulled out with a loud grunt, giving you a moment to breathe. You panted, seeing a thick web of spit connecting your mouth and his tip before watching it break and drip down your shirt.
You’re about to tell Ghost… something. But you instantly lose thought of it when he’s bent down with his mask rucked up just far enough to smash his mouth to yours, shoving his tongue in your mouth and practically eating you from the inside out. You can still taste the salty edge of his skin, and it’s almost heady to have his mouth mingling with yours and sharing his arousal between soft moans and heavy breaths. The kiss is long and feverish, but not near long enough before he’s standing back up and stroking his fist up and down his cock right in front of you like an unreal kind of dream somehow coming to life.
“Please.” You mutter a bit hoarse from the rough treatment of your throat, totally unsure of what you really want most. Between his mouth, words, and dick there’s so much more than just one you desired, but at least one of them needed to be delivered to you to attempt satisfaction.
“Open up, little one…” Ghost whispers face re-masked already, and it makes you whine pathetically, having naively believed he’d allow you just one glimpse at the mouth you’d just tasted. “Need to have more of you.” You’re totally happy to resign by leaning your head back against the wall with your tongue wetting your lips in the cold air.
Ghost starts painfully slow, holding your head on both sides of your jaw and teasing his head against your tongue and the textured roof of your mouth; indiscernible words falling from his mouth and his eyes squeezed tightly shut. You would’ve thought it was nothing more than your Lieutenant just taking his pleasure as offered. But the way his thumbs brushed over your cheeks and his fingers would occasionally rub over the stretched muscles in your jaw gave you the feeling that he was well aware of what you were surrendering to him. As well as how thankful he was to have you on your knees, and looking so fucking angelic swallowing and spitting on his dick like a dirty little whore.
“Let me - Wanna…” His rising breaths and steady strokes begin to falter the longer he thrusts inside your mouth, meticulously avoiding forcing himself deeper in disappointment; resulting in your whining and muffled complaints and pleasure. Had his hands not been purposefully holding you back to prolong the session, Ghost probably wouldn’t have lasted this long.
“P-patience…” His stammer made your chest clench in satisfaction. “Don’t - don’t wanna finish in your mouth…”. That breathy comment nearly struck you stiff as concrete.
You couldn’t believe that after this entire ordeal, Ghost was actually trying to end a blowjob without you finishing it the way you honestly believed it should always end. With you swallowing every last fucking drop that the Lieutenant gave you; wearing a goddamn smile bigger than anyone has ever seen. If he hadn’t been lying and head never impressed him, there wasn’t a chance in Hell you were going to let him finish anywhere that wasn’t down your throat. In a split second, you were shaking your head no and pulling back off his cock with a slight gasp.
“No, finish.” It’s the most demanding and certain you’ve sounded all night. “Finish in my mouth, Ghost.”
His eyes say it all.
They’re wide with his pupils blown at impressive dimensions and his thick eyelashes flutter as his shocked expression forces him to blink over and over again to make sense of you. Mouth and chin covered in spit, on your knees, and literally begging him to come in your mouth.
“Goddamn, you’re so fucking filthy…” He mutters aloud, watching intently as you slide back down over him one more time and begin doing what you wanted to from the very beginning.
Bring Ghost to his knees.
It’s a moment before you have him cursing and holding onto the wall with both hands again as you push deeper and deeper until you're teasing the tip of your nose against him yet again. Unwilling to let him pull you off this time or prolong this. Deserving this release was the bare minimum. Not only did you want to provide him ultimate pleasure where no one else had, but you enjoyed every single bit of it. You needed this as much -if not more- than Ghost.
Heavy and twitching in your mouth, Ghost was teetering on the edge of his orgasm with stuttering hips and one hand sliding down to rest on your head. Not pushing this time, just laying at the crown like your movements were too much to feel with only one part of his body. Short pants were cut short by unintelligible words and strained attempts to say what you already knew.
As if giving your final approval of the idea Ghost had found unacceptable, you push him as deep as you could one final time; Hearing his loud shout echo down the breezeway as both of his hands grabbed harshly onto the sides of your head. Pumping stream after stream of his hot release down your throat you moaned deeply, feeling him gently rock his hips against your face as he rode down his high on shaky legs. You gagged a little as he pulled out, feeling your throat begin to burn in an unfamiliar way that had never followed you sharing a moment like this with another man. Only one look at Ghost’s cock right in front of your face was more than enough to reassure you he’d just been the one who gave you enough of a delicious stretch to feel for days to come.
Your eyes met his and a small little shy smile crossed your sore lips, contrasting the absolutely deplorable -and punishable- act you’d ever committed with a superior officer. Wordlessly Ghost tucked himself back into his underwear and neglected to button his pants back up before dropping to a knee right in front of you and pulling up his mask again to brush his lips against yours.
“Want to taste,” He whispered ever-so-softly, hands holding your head gently.
“Need to taste me inside your mouth.” He added, licking your lips before closing the distance between you for a second time. This kiss was still intense. Ghost controlling the pace and just how much dominance you had, which nearly came to zero when he licked into your mouth, groaning shamelessly. He could taste his release coating your mouth as he utterly overwhelmed you with kisses, licks, bites, and more moans that fell like honey on your ears.
You were the first to pull back for a gasp of air you’d gone full minutes without, feeling your own mouth and body beginning to feel a little weak with exhaustion not typical of a well-conditioned soldier like yourself. Your Lieutenant took note right away and rested his head against yours reassuringly, his nose touching yours.
“You’re too cold to be out here like this.” He whispered, pulling your cheek affectionately and wrapping the other arm around you. “Not gonna let you freeze after that.” He chuckled a bit sluggishly, kissing you again long and chaste.
He pulled his mask back down and gave very little effort to pick you up off your knees and into his arms without question or hesitation. Leaving you feeling like a treasured prize he’d won and refused to let out of his sight for more than a moment. Safe and protected, you couldn’t care one bit about the cold nipping through your thin clothes and resting your head against Ghost’s shoulder as he carried you back to the hotel room the 141 had already retired for the night in.
Expertly avoiding Soap and Gaz laying on couch cushions on the floor and covered with extra bedsheets, sliding around Price’s bed without bumping it, all while carrying you Ghost sat you down on the edge of the bed he’d been keen to claim as his own right when you’d arrived. You were nearly asleep just sitting there when he unlaced your boots enough to tug them off, pulled your shirt off over your head, and replaced it with one of his hoodies. Finally, he takes off your pants and nods for you to move up to the top of the bed, acting just as he would normally. But as he climbed into the bed next to you and tugged you back against him tightly, you realized you’d gotten a lot more than you bargained for.
Sure you might’ve changed Ghost’s mind about getting head… but you weren’t finished yet. Because Ghost was curling his arm around your waist and burying his masked face in between your shoulder blades like cuddling with you at night was the usual way of things. His fingers innocently traced the waistband of your underwear, and he radiated body heat that melted away the fringe sensations of cold on your body easily.
“I’ve made a decision,” He whispers very quietly so as not to wake the others. And you wiggle back a little closer to him, nodding your head as a silent acknowledgment for him to go on. Expecting him to say that you did -in fact- change his mind about getting blown.
“You’re mine now.”
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