#until then. it's Hiding In The Corner time.
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 18: Don't Let Me Go
Summary: Things have gone wrong in your pack's absence. Can they make it back in time before irreparable damage is done? Can they fix the damage that's already been dealt?
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 10,232...oops
Warnings: ANGST, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, ANGST, anxiety, fear, panic attacks, very descriptive scenes of panic and anxiety, very heavy emotionally in the beginning, major invasions of privacy, hurt/sort of comfort, very brief mention of violence and death, and most importantly: fluff
A/N: Yeah, so this one kind of got away from me. It's definitely one of my favorite chapters now, and it's definitely the longest so far. It's pretty heavy, so plan something fun afterwards because it will hurt. I tried to catch all the possible triggers, but of course, if I miss one let me know. I promise things will begin to take a turn for the happier after this, at least for a bit. Picks up pretty much right where chapter 17 left off.
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You’re shaking. Your breaths are coming in gasps as you stare at your open door. There’s no scent in the air, nothing that would give you a hint of who invaded your space, or if they’re still in there. You should leave, barricade yourself somewhere and call Dr. Keller, or even Kate.
What could they do, though? Your pack won’t be home until tomorrow at the earliest.
No one can help you.
You slowly push your door open, ready to run in case someone is hiding inside. You stand in the doorway, scanning the small space, but there’s no sign of anyone. There’s still no scent either, just your own mingled with the slight chemical burn of scent blockers. Your eyes scan the room, looking for anything that might be new, anything that might be missing, anything that might be slightly out of place.
The clothes on the floor are slightly rumpled, but you’re not sure if you did that in your haste to pull on shoes before you left, or if they’ve been that way since the knock sounded on your door. You lift your gaze to the ceiling, scanning it and that’s when you notice it. The cover over the vent is slightly out of place. You likely wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t been paying attention, if you hadn’t looked.
The thought sends a chill running down your spine.
You keep your eyes on the vent as you grab your desk chair, kicking clothes out of the way as you move it under the vent. You stand on the chair, reaching for the vent, but it’s not quite enough. You shove the chair to the side, taking everything off your desk before you pull it under the vent. You climb up on shaky legs, your heart thudding in your chest as you remove the vent cover.
Nausea twists at your stomach as your breath leaves you in a sharp gasp. There, strategically placed between two of the gaps in the vent cover, is a camera. It’s small, and would have been invisible just staring at the vent from below. You feel like you might be sick as you pull it free from the vent cover, staring down into the tiny lens.
How long has it been up there?
You drop the camera onto your desk, your fingers shaking and trembling as you feel along the edges of the vent, checking for anything else that might be hiding up there. You replace the cover after you find nothing, a sense of dread filling you.
Had the guys put it up so they could watch you, make sure that you’re safe? Had they put it up there before you arrived? You think about all the times you’ve changed in your room, your heat.
You climb down from the desk, tugging it further towards the center of the room before you climb back up, unscrewing the cover off the light. You check the bulb, looking for any cameras or recording devices. You screw the cover of the light back on after finding none, a quiet sob leaving your lips as you look around your room.
You close the door and lock it before you begin your search, checking every corner and piece of furniture for cameras or recording devices. You empty the dresser and closet, checking every drawer and corner for anything suspicious.
You pull recording devices from under your desk and the back of your nightstand, the adhesive still fresh enough they pop right off. A cold sweat has overtaken you as you find another recording device and another camera, adding them to the growing pile on your desk.
A quiet sob of fear leaves your lips as you check the bathroom, tearing your room apart to check every inch. You search up a tutorial on YouTube, using your phone to check for more possible cameras that you might have missed.
You stare down at the pile of cameras and recording devices on your desk. Someone entered your room and planted them while you were with General Shepherd. It had all been deliberate. Get you away from your room and distracted so they could enter and set up the devices. You wonder if it’s all part of some sick plan, some way to ensure things are going well with your pack. General Shepherd had been very interested in your mark, invading your space without a moment of hesitation to see it firsthand. You would have shown him, had he asked to see it. Instead he’d just done it himself, as if it was nothing.
Your hands are shaking as you find a ziploc bag in the mess you’ve made of your room, putting the cameras and recording devices into it. You drop it onto the floor before stepping on it, listening to the crack of metal and plastic and glass under your shoe. Tears slip down your cheeks as you pick up the bag of broken pieces, taking it to the bathroom. You hide it far in the back of the cupboard beneath the sink, piling things around it and on top of it to keep it hidden.
You stand in the doorway of the bathroom, your skin crawling as you stare at the mess. You don’t feel safe anymore, not even in your own space. The thought of someone breaching the sacred space, entering your room without a second thought to put up cameras makes your stomach churn.
Where will you go? You can’t just leave, find somewhere else to feel safe. What if they did the same to the guys’ rooms? There could have been an entire team of people that came in and put cameras up all over the barracks. A sob leaves your lips as you rush to the door, double checking it’s locked before you shove the dresser against it. You flip your desk up to cover the window as much as it can, just in case anyone tries to climb in.
You sink to the floor in the middle of the disaster that has become your room, sobbing quietly. You want your pack home, you want to feel safe again. You glance at your phone where it’s sitting on a pile of shirts, afraid to even touch it. That woman could have done anything to it while you were with General Shepherd. What if they’re trying to call you and they can’t reach you?
You should try to reach Dr. Keller, tell her what happened, get her to check if there’s anyone lurking around the barracks that shouldn’t be. What if they try to attack her, though? Can she defend herself? You don’t know if she can fight or not. What if she gets hurt because of you? She could ask someone else on base to look, but what if they were involved in it? What if it was someone already on base that had done it? The thought nearly makes you sick.
You’re scared to leave again. What if they’ve noticed you found the cameras and come back while you’re gone? What if they come back while you’re here?
The tears flow freely as you sob, too afraid to even move. You can feel it, the panic starting to bubble up again, the fear welling inside you. Your muscles begin to tense, shoulders pulling up near your ears as you try to defend yourself from this invisible threat. It’s an easy slope from fear to distress, and there’s no one to help you if you start distressing. You press your palms into your eyes, holding your breath to try and shock your body into something other than panic.
You bite back a startled scream as a knock sounds at the door, your heart rate spiking again.
“It’s just me,” Dr. Keller’s voice sounds through the door. “Ready for dinner?”
You take a deep breath, staring at the dresser blocking your door. You’ll have to move it to get out, which she’ll likely notice. You could lie, you could lie easily, but you’re not sure you could keep it up right now. She’ll notice the tears, the obvious signs of panic and distress. She’ll want to know, and you can’t trust yourself not to spill everything.
You should tell her about what had happened, but you know she’ll be disappointed. She’ll think you were stupid for leaving, for not even sending her a text. She’ll tell John when he returns, too. He should know about it, but there’s no way a high ranking General could arrive on base without them knowing, especially one that’s their commander. Maybe it had all been a test. Maybe they do know about General Shepherd and just forgot to tell you this was going to happen.
Maybe Dr. Keller even knew about it, and didn’t say anything because she thought you knew too.
“I-I’m not hungry.” You say, trying to keep your voice from shaking.
There’s a pause outside the door for a moment, a beat of silence that’s too loud.
“Is everything alright?” She finally asks.
“Y-Yeah.” You say, clearing your throat. “Just...not really hungry right now.”
It’s silent again for a beat, making you hold your breath anxiously.
“Are you sure? I can come back later, or bring you dinner.” She says.
“I’m sure.” You swallow the tears welling in your eyes again. “I’ll grab a snack if I get hungry later.”
“Okay...” She says, and you can almost see the frown on her face. “Text or call if you need anything, alright?”
“Yeah.” You say, your voice cracking a bit.
You regret it almost instantly, the urge to shove the dresser out of the way and fling the door open strong as you hear her receding steps down the hallway. You don’t want to be alone, but Dr. Keller can’t give you what you need. The tears start falling again, sliding down your cheeks as you flop onto your back, ignoring the way the edge of a book digs into your spine.
You just want your pack back. You want John to scoop you up into his arms and wrap you in his warmth and soothing scent. You want Kyle and Johnny to squish you between them, sandwich you so tightly you’re scared you might burst. You want Ghost to wrap himself around you and offer you a blanket of protection against anyone who would even dare cast a glance in your direction.
You just want to feel at home again.
You want to be safe again.
***
The emotional and physical exhaustion pushes you into the state between consciousness and sleep. You’ve moved to your bed, tucked under the covers and stuck between the wall and your giant bear, as if it could offer you some form of protection as you float between awareness and somewhere in the realm of sleep for a few hours.
You’re not sure what time it is, when the disruption comes. It takes you a moment to register why you’re awake. Some deep part of your brain is prickling, sending out warning signals to your body. Something’s happening, something’s wrong, something’s posing a threat.
You hold your breath in the silence of the barracks, listening to the slow, quiet footsteps making their way down the hall. For a moment you think you might be imagining them, that you’re still asleep and dreaming. Your fingers pinch at your skin, nails digging in to confirm that you are, in fact, awake. This is really happening.
Your heartbeat picks up, the bitter stench of fear that’s coated your room intensifying as the footsteps pause outside your door. You let out a quiet, shaky breath as you lay there, thinking up every time you checked the door in the last few hours to ensure it was locked and the dresser was still pushed in front of it.
You cover your mouth as the door handle wiggles, catching on the lock. The whimper of fear threatening to rise catches in your throat as you hold your breath, your body trembling under your blankets. You should reach for your phone, send a text to Kate, call Dr. Keller, do something. Yet, you’re frozen in fear as the handle continues to wiggle before stopping.
You don’t release a breath until the footsteps fade, a quiet whimper slipping from your lips. Someone just tried to get into your room.
You’re panicking, breaths coming in short, sharp gasps as you burrow under your covers, barricading yourself between the wall and your bear, hoping you’ll be invisible in case they come back, in case they force their way in. You can’t fight, not after the day you’ve had. The best you can hope for is that your scent is rank enough in the room it’ll deter whoever is trying to get in.
You need tomorrow to come, and fast.
***
Daylight doesn't bring any sense of comfort.
All it does is shed more light on the disaster your room has become, the physical representation of your internal thoughts and feelings. Your face feels puffy from crying, and there’s a bad taste in your mouth. You haven’t brushed your teeth since yesterday, nor have you showered, too scared to put yourself in such a vulnerable position.
You glance at your phone, checking for missed calls, but there’s none. Dr. Keller will be by soon to get you for breakfast, but you’re not sure you can stand going to the mess. The idea of leaving your room, leaving it empty so anyone could just walk in and bug it or touch your things or hide out so they can take revenge on you for finding and destroying their cameras and recording devices has you paralyzed.
That must have been what whoever entered the barracks last night had come to do. Maybe they thought you’d spend the night in one of the other rooms and they’d come to replace them. Or, maybe they wanted you to be in your room. Maybe that was the plan all along.
The thought sends a chill running down your spine.
You burrow back under your blankets, curling up against your giant teddy bear. You wish it was Price, that his arm would wrap around you and hold you close, keep you safe and protected in his arms. You’d take any of them right now, even Ghost. At least you know he’d protect you, especially if someone tried to enter the barracks without permission.
You’re still lying there when Dr. Keller arrives. You stare at the dresser still pushed against the door, keeping you from opening it. Not that you really want to. You can’t stop the anxiety from taking over, bringing forward the image of Dr. Keller held at gunpoint on the other side of the door, trying to trick you into opening it so whoever tried to get in last night can finally do what they came to do.
You know it’s a ridiculous thought. No one would be that stupid in broad daylight, and you doubt Dr. Keller would let something like that happen to her. She’d put up a fight, or at least you hope so.
You can’t move the dresser without her knowing you’d pushed it against the door, which will only prompt questions. Questions you don’t want to answer.
She calls your name through the door, concern lacing her voice. “Everything alright?”
No. You want to scream it, tears gathering in your eyes again. You want to push the dresser out of the way, throw open the door and confess everything that’s happened in the last few hours to her. You want to bring her into your space, keep her there until your pack returns so you can feel even just an ounce of safety.
But what if she gets mad?
Leaving yesterday was stupid. Going off with some unknown beta without telling anyone was the dumbest thing you’ve done since your arrival on base. She’ll be disappointed and she’ll tell your pack and they’ll be disappointed that you didn’t say anything to her about it. Even if they knew it happened, they’d still be disappointed that you didn’t think to even question it, that you didn’t think to let Dr. Keller know what was going on.
You made a stupid decision, and you won’t be able to take their disappointment and anger. Not after everything.
“Yeah.” You call out, your voice shaking. “I-I’m alright.”
You can tell she doesn’t believe you, even though you can’t see her. She probably has that look on her face she gets when she knows you’re not telling the whole truth. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the racing of your heart. You’re afraid it might give out after the stress of the last few days.
“Are you ready for breakfast?” She finally asks, likely giving up on trying to get any more details from you.
You’re not hungry, and you know going to the mess will not end well. The risk of distressing is high, and the thought that any one in the mess might have been the intruder last night nearly sends you over the edge. One wrong glance in your direction might cause you to do something reckless. “I’m not hungry.” You finally say, pulling the blankets tighter around you.
“Are you sure?” She asks. “Did you eat something last night?”
“Yeah.” You lie, trying to keep your voice from breaking. “I had some snacks.”
Her feet shuffle outside the door for a moment, and you can almost hear her sigh. “If you’re sure?”
“I-I’m sure.” You reply.
There’s a moment of silence before you get a response, your breath catching in your throat from the nerves. “Alright.” She finally says. “I got word that your pack will be landing in a couple of hours and we have permission to go out to the airfield and greet them. I’ll come back to get you when it’s time. If you need anything, call me.”
You listen to her footsteps recede down the hallway, tears burning your eyes. You hate lying. You feel bad for keeping the truth from her, but the shame of revealing what you did is too strong.
You hastily wipe your eyes, staring at the mess on your floor. You need to get your room back to at least its somewhat normal state, and you need to put yourself back to your normal state as well. If anyone gets any hint that something is wrong, you might crack, and you’re not sure you could handle the repercussions.
You start with the desk, flipping it back the way it’s supposed to be and positioning it as close to where it was as you can get. You collect the books and other little things that go on it, trying to arrange it as close to how it normally is. You know they’ll notice if any little thing is out of place, if anything looks suspicious. You can blame some of it on cleaning, if they ask. You did some deep cleaning while they were away. That’s one way of putting it.
You push the dresser back into place next, putting the drawers back in before starting on the clothes, putting everything back where it belongs. You make your bed last, the urge to nest gone completely. You’re shaking with exhaustion by the time you finish, tempted to crawl back into bed, but you know you can’t. Your pack is coming back, and you need everything to look like it’s fine still.
They’ll notice. They’ll see it, and they’ll ask, and you’ll have to spill everything and face the shame and anger from being so stupid.
Tears burn your eyes as you slip your desk chair under the door handle, making sure it’s secure before heading to the shower to get ready for your pack’s imminent return. You shower with the door open, getting done quickly to avoid being vulnerable for long. You try to make yourself look as decent as possible, ignoring the fact that there’s broken cameras and recording devices hidden under the sink. Eventually you’ll forget. Eventually it’ll fade from your mind and become nothing more than a forgotten nightmare.
One of many.
You toss your pajamas on the floor haphazardly, just to make things look more normal. You know if it’s too clean, that might raise some suspicions as well. You don’t want to give away that something happened, you don’t want to raise any suspicions. You just want things to go back to normal. You want your pack back, and you want to feel safe again.
At least, until they have to leave again.
You sink to the floor, leaning up against your bed as you wait for Dr. Keller to take you to greet your pack when they return.
***
Every minute seems to drag on infinitely as you stare across the tarmac. They’ll be landing any minute. Any minute now the nightmare will be over and you’ll get to see your pack again after days of being apart. Finally, maybe, you can begin to feel safe again.
You watch the plane as it comes in to land, your hands already trembling in anticipation. There’s a twisting in your stomach, you’re not sure if it’s worry or fear or excitement. They’re so close, so close you can almost smell them. Your omega is scratching at the back of your brain, your muscles twitching as the ramp begins to lower on the plane. You need to see them, you need to smell them, you need to ensure they’re alright.
You can’t stop yourself. As soon as their boots hit the tarmac, you’re running. You don’t care if you’re breaking rules, you don’t care if the other soldiers get worried, or see you as a possible threat, you need to be in your alpha’s arms again.
John grunts from the force of you hitting him, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You throw your arms around him, clinging to him as tight as you can. You’re whimpering, the quiet sounds dragging from your lips but you don’t care. You press your face into his chest, breathing him in. He smells like sweat and musk, the sharp metallic tang of gunpowder burning your nose. Yet, underneath it all, you can make out the earthy scent, the petrichor going straight to your brain.
His arms wrap tight around you, squishing you up against his chest. His vest digs into your skin, but you don’t care. You can’t feel much of anything but relief. His breath fans your forehead as he leans down, his hand cupping the back of your head. He shushes you gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Tears fill your eyes as you cling to him, fingers gripping his shirt tightly like you’re afraid he might disappear again. If it wasn’t for the pain in your chest, you might have thought this was all a dream, that they might disappear suddenly and you’ll wake up alone again.
“Easy.” John rumbles, gently stroking the back of your head.
You cling to him tighter as his hand gets close to your neck, the thought of General Shepherd’s hand being so close to your neck where he could scruff you so easily making your insides squirm.
He’s gone. He’s gone and your pack is here.
“You’re alright.” John tries to reassure you, squeezing his arms around your trembling form. “I’ve got you.”
You keep your face pressed against his chest, breathing him in, trying to get his scent to calm the raging storm within you. Your omega is still scratching at the back of your mind, a deep need to claw your way under John’s skin and into his body pushing at the front of your mind. You won’t be safe until you’ve been utterly consumed by him, until you’re safely tucked where no one can hurt you without going through him first.
“Alpha,” You whine quietly, nuzzling your face against his chest. His clothes are in the way, a barrier against what you need. To feel him, to smell him fully again.
“Easy.” He says, grabbing your hands as they shift towards the velcro straps of his tactical vest. “Let’s get back to the barracks first before we start that, sweetheart.”
You don’t want to go back to the barracks. It’s not safe anymore. What if there’s someone waiting there for you to return? What if they get hurt because you don’t tell them what happened? What if you get hurt and cause them pain?
“You’re alright.” John says, stroking the back of your head as he begins to ease your grip on him. “There’s a couple of muppets here who I think would like to greet you too.”
Right. You’re so caught up in your alpha, you forgot the rest of your pack. You slowly allow yourself to be peeled away from John, Kyle right there to let you cling to him.
And so you do.
Your grip around him is just as tight, ignoring the uncomfortable ridges of his own vest. He holds you just as tightly, projecting his scent just a bit to try and calm you. Someone presses against your back, arms wrapping around both you and Kyle. The scent of citrus lined with beta invades your nose, Johnny squishing you into a sandwich between them. Your eyes squeeze shut as citrus and salty sea air blend together, the beta’s scents reaching deep into your brain to try and ease some of the tension in your body.
They’re back. They’re safe. You’re safe.
Now you just have to convince yourself of that fact.
***
“How was she?” John asks as he approaches Dr. Keller.
“Held it together longer than I thought she would.” She says. “Things took a turn yesterday afternoon. Shut herself in her room and wouldn’t come out. I don’t think she’s eaten anything since lunch yesterday either.”
“We’ll get some food in her.” John says. “Thank you, for looking after her for us.”
“Well, it is partly my job.” Dr. Keller shrugs. “Always happy to do it.”
“Things will get easier, won’t they?” He asks.
“Eventually. She’ll learn what coping mechanisms help and she’ll adapt.”
“Hopefully at least one of us will be able to stay moving forward. I don’t like leaving her here alone.” He grimaces.
“Separation is hard no matter what, especially with limited contact, on all parties involved.” She gives him a look. “I think the best thing you can do right now is just be together as a pack. Let those bonds heal and let her do what she needs.”
“Thank you, doctor.” John says, shaking her hand.
“Call me, if you need anything, as usual.” Dr. Keller says, watching his retreating back before getting into her car to make the short drive back to the medical center.
John gets into the car waiting to take them back to the barracks, sitting next to Kyle who’s holding you straddling his lap, your face pressed into his neck. “That looks safe.” He remarks, even though they wouldn’t be going very fast, or very far.
“Couldn’t get her to let go.” Kyle says, tightening his hold around you as the car begins moving.
“You’re alright, sweetheart.” John says, rubbing your back gently.
You turn your face to look at him, your eyes red from the numerous tears you’ve already shed, and the ones still trailing down your face. The guilt nearly makes him sick as he stares at you, feeling the slight tremble still from where his hand rests against your back.
He’d never say it out loud, but he hates the fact they had to leave you, all four of them at once too. He’d fought, argued. He and Simon could have handled it on their own, even him and the two Sergeants would have been sufficient. Anything not to leave you by yourself during their first deployment.
Despite his attempts, General Shepherd had been insistent that all four of them were necessary for this particular task.
So, he had been forced to leave you behind on your own. It’s gone about as well as he expected, from the looks of it. He knew the separation would get to you eventually. The stress would grow to be too much. Every day he anticipated the news to come from Kate that you had distressed and your omega had taken over because he wasn’t there to help you.
Every day he waited for the news that they’d lost you because the brass that put this initiative into place couldn’t understand why taking them all at once was a bad idea.
Or maybe that was their plan all along.
He couldn’t stop the conspiratorial thoughts running through his head as their mission dragged on. What if they were doing this on purpose? It wouldn’t be that strange to push the boundaries of what could be tolerated for the purpose of testing just how effective the initiative really could be. But pushing it like that so soon? Sure, he could rationalize it was possible. War could break out at any moment, which would require most military members to leave, to be separated from their packs for months or even years. His own team could be called out at any time for months working to eliminate a target and stop war from breaking out.
Yet, he can’t help but feel there was something more, something deeper going on. What if they had called away for more nefarious reasons? What if getting you alone had been the reason behind General Shepherd’s insistence that all four of them were necessary for this particular task? He had refused to entertain those dark thoughts for too long, the fear of leaving you alone already itching in the back of his mind from the moment they boarded the plane to leave.
He hadn’t been able to hide his relief at hearing your voice on the phone. Though you had sounded upset, and rightfully so, his worries had been lessened in knowing you were alright. You would tell them if something had happened. He knows you wouldn’t keep something that serious a secret. If someone had hurt you, or had tried to hurt you, you would tell one of them.
Even though he trusts you, he does plan to speak to Dr. Keller more in depth later to ensure everything went as fine as she seemed to imply it did. Obviously their absence has been hard on you, but he needs to make sure you really will be alright, that you will be able to come back from the obvious distress this has caused you.
***
You finally release your constricting hold on Kyle as the car pulls up outside the barracks. Even with them back, it still doesn't feel like home anymore, not after such sacred space was invaded so easily, so nonchalantly. Kyle climbs out of the car, setting you on your feet on the ground. You look between him and John, realizing Ghost and Johnny are still in the car. Your stomach falls as you realize what they're about to say, tears gathering in your eyes again.
“We still have some things we need to do.” John says, reaching towards you.
You have the momentary urge to flinch from his touch, but you let his hand cup your cheek. “You're leaving me again.” You say, your voice breaking.
John almost looks guilty. He almost looks upset by your visible turmoil. His hand drops from your cheek to your back, turning you towards the barracks. Your stomach twists as he guides you inside, the fear of someone being inside spiking. You know you're safe with John, that he wouldn’t let anything happen to you, but you'd have to play dumb if they did catch someone inside. You’d have to act like you didn’t know someone had entered before, like you had been unaware of anything going on. That might almost be worse than telling them the truth.
You inhale as he stops in front of your door, still closed from when you'd left with Dr. Keller. There's no chemical burn of scent blockers, just your scent in the air, and John's scent coming off him as he stands next to you.
“We won't be long. Maybe an hour at most, and we'll only be across base. We'll come back and we can get lunch before our afternoon meeting. Then we'll just have reports to do, and you can sit in my office while I work on those, okay?” He says.
Your brows pinch as you try to hold in your tears. You want to tell him, you want to reveal what happened, beg him not to leave you alone here again, but you can't. You can't face that shame, the disappointment you know he'll show on his face at the knowledge that you let that happen. You willingly left with a stranger without telling anyone. You let someone invade your pack's space so easily. They were gone for a week and you screwed everything up.
“Tomorrow we'll spend the day together. All of us. I promise.” He says wiping the tear that slides down your cheek.
Even though they're back, you still don't have them.
You inhale shakily before nodding. “Yeah. Fine.”
John's thumb brushes your cheek for a moment before he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
You watch his back retreat as he leaves the barracks, leaving you alone again. You think back to when they’d left you, watching his back as he boarded the plane to be taken from you. You stare at the door as the cars drive off, a cold chill running down your spine. What if General Shepherd is still here? What if they're going to meet with him? What if he tells them he met with you while they were gone and they had no idea?
Maybe you should have been honest with them from the start.
You stare at your closed door, your hands shaking. What if there's someone inside? What if someone is waiting to take their revenge for you destroying the cameras. What if they put new ones up?
You should have opened the door while Price was here so you could have at least screamed when someone would hear you. You back away from your door slowly, deciding to wait in the rec room. At least there you might have a chance. You could break a window and run, or at least have a higher chance of making it to a door.
Would anyone help you? Would anyone come if you screamed? What if they’re all in on it?
You're shaking as you sink onto the couch, sitting so you can see into the hallway. You want to see them coming so you can prepare yourself, or at least give yourself a chance to make an escape before it’s too late.
You run through all the things Ghost has taught you in your head as you sit and wait, the minutes dragging by painfully slow. You can feel every second, though that may just be the anxiety and fear pulsing within you. You wish you could sleep, you wish you could relax, you wish you could do anything to make the time go by faster, but yet you remain hypervigilant, staring so hard you flinch at every little shadow your brain convinces you is moving.
You’re not sure how long you sit there, tense and coiled, ready to spring at a moment’s notice. It can’t be more than an hour as John promised, yet it feels like a lifetime before you hear movement.
You hold your breath as the barracks door opens, boots thudding with every footstep coming down the hall. You nearly whimper when a figure rounds the corner, before you let out a sigh of relief.
“Ready for lunch, kitten?” Johnny asks, standing in the doorway of the rec room.
You swallow the lump in your throat, your hands still clenched into fists. You're breathing hard, your entire body tense. You know you're reaching dangerous territory. Any more panic, you may start distressing. What a welcome home for them, coming back to a distressed omega. They're probably exhausted, and here you are making a scene.
Hands close around yours. Warm, calloused hands apply gentle pressure, slowly uncurling your fingers. Your hands are shaking, trembling just slightly.
“Ye alright, kitten?” Johnny asks, kneeling in front of you. When he moved, you're not sure.
“I-I'm not...” You start, your voice shaking.
“Ye need tae eat.” He counters, as if he had read your mind, expected the answer.
He's right. You're beginning to feel it gnawing in your stomach, something deeper than the anxiety. With all the stressing you've been doing, you know you need to eat something. Being hungry is not helping that any, either.
“I don't want to go to the mess.” You say quickly, the words almost mushing together incoherently. “Too much.”
Johnny sits back, staring at you for a moment before nodding in understanding. “Alright. That's fair. I'll let the lads know.”
He stands up, leaving you alone in the rec room again. You listen to his footsteps fade, the door opening and closing for a moment. You hold your breath, practically on the edge of your seat. There's no reason they would make you go to the mess. You've eaten in the barracks many times before.
You blame your worry on your hunger. You know omegas don't do well when hungry. Omegas don't do well being uncomfortable in general.
Saying these last few days have been uncomfortable for you is a bit of an oversimplification.
Footsteps echo down the hallway, a familiar hulking figure approaching the rec room. You never thought there would come a time when you would feel relief upon seeing Ghost. Yet here you are, the tension easing from your shoulders as he steps into the rec room.
“They're grabbing us food.” He says, moving to sit in his usual spot in the chair facing the door. He sighs as he sinks into the cushions, and you can only imagine how tired he must be.
And here you are making things worse.
“You're stressed.” He says, staring at you. His eyes are still painted black beneath his mask, adding to the eerie vibe coming off of him. You're beginning to understand why they call him Ghost. “Stinking up the barracks.” He says, pulling out his phone.
“Oh.” You say quietly, sinking in on yourself as you sit there. “Sorry.”
You pick nervously at your sweatshirt as you wait for the others to return, letting out a quiet sigh of relief as they enter the rec room, food in hand.
Johnny sits you on his lap as you eat, making sure you get your fill, likely aware that you haven't eaten yet today thanks to Dr. Keller telling on you. It's quiet in the room as everyone eats, even the TV off. They all look tired and tense, and you can only imagine what happened during their time away. The things they did, the things they saw. You wonder how much blood is on their hands now, hands that have touched you, hands that are holding you.
They can just go off and kill people and come back and act like nothing has happened.
You could almost laugh at how psychotic it all sounds.
This is your life now. This is your new normal.
“We have a quick meeting. Shouldn't take too long.” John says as they stand, Johnny placing you gently on your feet.
You tug at your sweatshirt, avoiding his gaze. They're leaving you again. They won't be far this time, but still. You just want to curl up in bed with them and lay there until you feel safe again.
Tomorrow, John had said. Tomorrow they will be yours.
It might have been easier if you hadn't been told they were coming home until tomorrow.
***
You tense under the blanket as the door closes, quiet footsteps approaching your position on the couch. There's a quiet sigh as a figure drops to a knee in front of you, their figure visible as a shadow beneath the blanket.
“Can you breathe under there?”
You slowly lower the blanket just enough to peek over the top of it. John is kneeling next to the couch, his brows furrowed in a frown. You're in his office, having shut yourself in there while they went into the meeting. John had made you swear not to go snooping as he’d let you inside. You had promised, as you still feel no desire to dig through the likely classified files that were locked in the cabinets and on his computer. Instead you had parked yourself on his couch, burrowing under a blanket that smelled faintly of petrichor and tobacco smoke.
“There she is.” He says as you peek above the blanket, gently running a hand over the top of your head. “How are you holding up, sweetheart?”
“You left me.” You say quietly, trying not to burst into tears and confess everything.
“I know.” He says, wiping the tear that slides down your cheek. “But we came back, just like we promised.”
He is right in that regard, yet you can’t help the tears as they slide down your cheeks. The ache in your chest that had started to build over the last few days is still present despite their return. Everything is wrong. They feel too far away, too distant. Nothing is safe anymore, nothing is sacred, and they’re just acting like everything is back to normal.
“Would you like to kneel for me?” He asks, his thumb stroking your cheek.
You’re tempted to say no. For the first time you feel wary of your alpha. What kinds of things would you admit in your dazed state? If he questioned you, would you give him enough to put together that something had happened and you’ve been trying to hide it from him? Maybe it would help, though. It would at least ease some of the tension that’s built up. Maybe it could pull you back from the edge of distress you’ve been dangling over for almost two days. Maybe he’ll accidentally scruff you and you can forget the whole thing happened.
The dark thought sends a chill down your spine.
“Okay.” You say, pushing yourself up to sit.
John offers you a hand, helping you up off the couch. You don't want to let go of his hand, you don't want to be parted from him. The omega in the back of your mind is screaming at you to get close to him and stay there for the rest of time. If he leaves you again...you're not sure you can handle it.
He settles in his desk chair, getting everything he needs ready. He'll work on his reports while you kneel, a familiar position, a familiar situation. You've done this before several times. You're not sure why you're suddenly nervous.
You set the pillow down, dropping to your knees beside him. The chair creaks as he shifts slightly, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head. You fight the urge to flinch, to move away as he gently strokes his hand over your hair. You've done this before, he's done this before. You're not sure why your heart is thudding in your chest.
His hand slowly moves lower, slipping closer and closer to your neck. You can't help it as your shoulders come up, preventing him from gripping the back of your neck. He moves his hand away as you get defensive, his chair turning slightly as he leans down.
“It's alright, sweetheart. It's just me.” He soothes you, his hand returning to the top of your head. “I know it's been a while, but I promise I remember what to do.”
“Sorry, sorry.” You gasp out, trying to relax. “I don't...I don't know...”
You do know. Your brain keeps flashing back to General Shepherd, his hand tugging down your collar, so close to your neck. How easily he could have scruffed you, if he'd wanted to. You would have known if he had, but he could have done anything to you during the time he had control.
“You're stressed, all worked up.” John says, still stroking the top of your head, trying to soothe you. “It's been a long week for all of us. It was a risk, sending all four of us at once. A stupid risk that shouldn't have been taken.”
You're pulled from your emotional state at the slight hint of anger in his voice. It hadn't taken you long to figure out they likely were all sent in order to get you alone. It would have been impossible to get you out of the barracks and put cameras up with even one of them here. Did he know about Shepherd's visit? Had he put two and two together and figured out they sent all four of them on purpose? You figured he'd be angrier if he knew about what you did, about what they did to you. He would be blazing a path straight to General Shepherd if your alpha knew he got so close to you, put you in that kind of situation.
At least, you hope he would. There’s still that fear in the back of your mind, that worry that it was all a test and you’ve failed. Would they send you back to the institute? Would they break the bonds and send you to a different pack? Would they send you out on your own, leaving you to fend for yourself until some other alpha crossed your path and decided you were worth it? Does he know you’re lying to him, hiding the truth of what happened while he was away? Is he waiting for you to confess, biding his time to see how long you try to hide it?
You want to tell him. You really do, but you can't bring yourself to get the words out. You can't bring yourself to confess here on your knees before your alpha. You feel guilty, like a sinner, yet the shame keeps the words trapped inside.
He continues to soothe you, sliding his hand further down until he reaches your neck. You force yourself to relax, knowing you need this. You need your alpha to take control. You need him to ease the heavy weight on your shoulders, even if he doesn't know what he's lifting.
You close your eyes as his fingers press into your neck, your brain quieting to a hum as you begin to slip into the back of your mind. You feel the rush of endorphins as your brain begins to calm itself, quieting the storm that's been raging for almost a week. You begin to go numb, relaxing into John's hold as he eases you into a quiet, meditative state. He begins to work on his reports as he holds you, your mind floating off somewhere else, somewhere safer where no one can break in and hurt you, somewhere where the barracks are still secure and safe and your pack never left.
Somewhere where there's no initiative, and your pack picked you because they wanted you, because you were a good omega who did as she was told and didn't make stupid mistakes that put everyone in danger.
The last of the tension leaves your body, your mind distant from the present moment. You're safe with your alpha. He'd never let anything happen to you. None of your pack would let anything happen to you.
The thought continues to repeat in your head like a mantra as you relax, held up by the strong pillar that is your alpha.
***
“Report's done, Captain.” Kyle says, placing the stack of papers on John's desk.
“Thanks.” John sighs, grabbing them.
Kyle turns to look at you, fast asleep on the couch. “You want me to take her?” He asks, the formality easing between them as they settle into being a pack and not a task force on duty anymore.
John stares at you, curled up on his lumpy old couch. It’s getting late, or at least it feels that way. You’ve been out, sleeping peacefully on his couch since he eased you out of your kneeling position. You’d clung to him tightly, and for a moment he’d considered holding you, letting you sit with him as you dozed, but he knows he can’t risk you seeing something you shouldn’t. So he’d eased you onto the couch, having to peel your hands away from his shirt. He’d nearly given up and let you keep hold of his shirt before you finally relaxed and released him.
“Would probably be more comfortable.” He rubs his eyes, feeling the call of sleep himself. He wonders how much you managed to sleep while they were gone. You look tired, though you’ve been looking tired since your heat ended. He needs to rest himself, but he wants to get these reports done so he can keep his promise for tomorrow. “I'll be in there soon.”
“Don't work too hard.” Kyle says, moving to lift you off the couch.
“No promises.”
Kyle shakes his head before scooping you up off the couch, blanket and all. You’re still sound asleep as he carries you, pausing in the hallway for a moment. He had just been instinctually going to his room, but would you be more comfortable in your own room? You probably have spent the last week shut inside your space. It might be nice to spend some time somewhere else.
He takes you into his room, laying you on the bed, making sure you’re comfortable. He needs to shower and throw his clothes in the wash, but he doesn’t want to leave you and risk you waking up without someone there. You’re sleeping deeply, though, not even stirring as he tucks the blanket up higher around you. He doesn't want to crawl into bed smelling like gunpowder and sweat. That might throw you off too.
He takes the risk, knowing he can do both tasks quickly. No more than twenty minutes to get himself clean and his dirty clothes in the wash, as he prays you stay asleep and won't start panicking if you wake in a strange place. He had sensed how close you had been to distress, how tense you had been when he held you in the car. It’s been a hard week for you, even harder than it had been for them.
He breathes out a quiet sigh of relief as he finds you still asleep when he returns to his room. You haven't moved at all, still tucked under the blanket from John's office. He gets himself changed and moisturized, rubbing some cream on the bruises that dot his skin. He's going to be sore tomorrow, they all will be, but he knows they won't be doing much. John had already told them tomorrow will be dedicated to spending time with you and helping you recover from the stress of them being gone. He’s silently glad for the break, knowing it could only be a few days before they get called out again.
John had also told him he’d be pushing harder for one of them to stay whenever he can. He’s not taking this risk again, not if it can be avoided.
Kyle’s pulling on his sweatpants when you inhale sharply. You're sitting up straight on his bed, eyes wide as you look around in fear. They’re hazy, confusion settling into your mind after going from John’s office to Kyle’s room after kneeling.
“Hey, hey. It's alright.” Kyle says, moving over to the bed, taking a seat on the edge so he’s in your line of sight. “You're just in my room.”
“Kyle?” You whisper, clarity returning to your gaze as you stare at him.
“I'm here.” He says. “Just went to take a shower and clean up.”
“Where's John?” You ask, tears gathering in your eyes.
“Still working on things.” He says, cupping your face. “He'll be in eventually.”
The tears fall from your eyes, sliding down your cheeks. They wet his thumbs as he strokes your skin, your body trembling slightly as you sniffle.
Something’s wrong. He's known it since you latched onto him on the tarmac. The way you'd held onto him like he might disappear, how you looked almost angry when John told you they still had things to do, the way your scent had filled the barracks, bitter with fear and stress.
Something’s up, something you're not letting them in on. But, to be fair, they had just left you for a week, up and abandoned you to go play heroes. He wouldn't blame you for not telling them anything. The bonds have weakened. He can feel it, beyond just his natural beta senses.
“What can I do?” He asks quietly, trying to project his scent a bit to help calm you. He doesn't want you distressing, not after holding it together for so long.
“I...I need...” You inhale shakily, still trembling in his hold. “I don't know.” You whine, the tears falling faster now.
He pulls you against his chest, holding you as you cry. He feels the tugging in his chest, sympathy for you and what you must be feeling, along with the guilt of knowing they caused this. They did this just with their absence.
An idea begins to form in his mind as he holds you, something his family used to do when he was younger.
He pulls away from you, standing up. “Come on. I have an idea.”
He strips the blankets from his bed before pulling the mattress off the frame. He drags it to the door and out into the hallway before heading down to John's room. You follow behind him, watching him as he opens the door to John’s room, dragging the mattress in and dropping it on the floor.
“Stay here.” He tells you, heading back out into the hallway.
“What're ye doin’?” Johnny asks, sticking his head out of his door.
“Grab your mattress and Simon and meet me in Price's room.” Kyle says as he heads down the hallway, ignoring Johnny's further questioning as he makes for John’s office.
He doesn't bother knocking, walking right in. John blinks at him from behind the desk, and for a moment Kyle wonders if he'd fallen asleep sitting up. It wouldn't be the first time.
“Come on.” Kyle says, moving to stand in front of his desk. “Finish those tomorrow.”
“They're important, I have to get them done asap.” John counters.
“Yeah, well I have something more important.” He leans forward at John's questioning stare. “Your omega needs you.”
John stares at his beta for a moment, and Kyle can see the gears turning in his head, the debate happening, the conflict in his mind. He so rarely sees his alpha, his captain so indecisive for so long. He's usually so quick to act, analyzing a situation and making a decision in mere seconds.
If only you knew the things you've done by simply existing in their lives.
John closes the file on his desk, slipping it into the drawer before locking it. Kyle fights the triumphant grin threatening to form on his face as John stands from his chair after shutting his computer off. Kyle makes his way back down the hallway, John following behind after locking his office door. Kyle stops at his room, grabbing his comforter before heading for John’s room.
Johnny had obviously gotten the idea of what Kyle had in mind, his mattress and John's laid out side by side so the three make one giant bed for them on the floor. He’s already laid out his own comforter and Simon’s, as well as John’s on the mattresses. They probably wouldn’t need blankets for long with their body heat, but the blend of scents will hopefully begin to ease the tempest raging in your mind.
You’ve parked yourself in the corner, watching it all happen. You seem so small, so lost, so out of place. It's not all that different from when you'd arrived in their lives. Has being gone for a week really reverted things so drastically for you? Has your stress broken the bonds so much that you feel like a stranger amongst them again?
Kyle steps over the mattresses, approaching you slowly. You look up from where you had been staring off into space, blinking up at him. Your eyes are still red and watery from crying, your arms clutching one of your stuffed bears against your chest. It’s the one John had scented for you, back when they were trying to get you to nest. He wonders if you’ve nested since they left, if that urge is still there, or if that too has faded.
Kyle doesn’t often feel angry at his job. Not anymore. He doesn’t often question it. It’s what he signed up for, and he does it because someone has to. He chose this life, so he does his best to be a good soldier, to follow orders. Yet, as he stares down at you, he can’t help but feel anger bristling in the back of his mind. He tries to blame it on his instincts, on the fact that a member of his pack is so upset, so distressed at something that’s happened, and he doesn't know what to do to help.
Yet he knows they were the cause of it, even if it wasn’t their choice directly. Something happened because of them. He tries to rationalize it. This is an experiment, a test to see how well packs will do with omegas, if it has any effect on how well they can do their jobs, if it makes them stronger, or if it weakens them. Those in charge had obviously put little regard in for how it would affect the omegas. They couldn’t have known how you would react, how badly all of them leaving would affect you. Or maybe they did know, and they simply didn’t care.. Perhaps you weren’t the focus of their study, but you were still a variable, you were still an important piece of this puzzle.
How can they be more effective if their omega is struggling because of their absence? How can they be expected to function like a team now knowing leaving behind their omega will only cause distress for all of them?
Kyle takes a deep breath, pushing back the anger and the emotions whirling in his own mind. He needs to focus on you right now, focus on helping you relax, helping you get back to where you were before they left you. He’s doing the best he can do right now for you, giving you what you need, even if you don’t realize it’s what you need yet.
He holds out his hand to you, staying still as you stare at it. It takes you a moment before you slowly begin to move, slipping one of your hands into his. He guides you to the mattress in the middle, Johnny’s mattress, easing you down to sit on it. You glance around as Johnny and John toss pillows onto the mattresses haphazardly, making sure everything is perfect. It’s not a pretty nest, he’d hardly call it a nest at all, but he knows nesting is not necessarily all about looks. It’s about feeling, and right now, he knows you need to feel safe and secure.
John quickly changes into more comfortable clothes as Kyle stretches out on the mattress, opening his arms to you. You curl up against his side, resting your cheek against his chest. You press your face into his skin, inhaling for a moment before you settle, slowly beginning to relax in his hold.
Simon enters the room as John settles on Kyle’s other side, closing the door behind him and locking it, securing the five of you inside. Johnny settles on the other side of you, pressing up close against your back. He pulls one of the comforters up around the three of you before he tosses an arm around you, resting his hand on Kyle’s stomach, sandwiching you between the two betas again.
Simon stands over the makeshift nest, staring down at the four of you. He’s obviously the most uncomfortable with the situation, and still a bit miffed from your lack of greeting on the tarmac. It was his own fault for being so closed off with you for so long. You had instinctively sought out the members of the pack you felt the most connected to, the most comfortable with in your time of such great stress.
“Aw come on, ye big bastard, get in the bed.” Soap says, snapping Simon out of his reverie.
Simon shuts the light off, bathing them in near darkness. You tense for a moment as the lights go off before you slowly relax again. Kyle listens to your breaths even out as Simon gets comfortable on the mattress behind Johnny, the four of them settling in around you.
It's already warm in the room but none of them would even think of complaining. They’re too focused on surrounding you with their scent and their protection, the very thing you need the most.
Taglist:
@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx
@protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai
@redwites @kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg
@beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff
@smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60
@evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine
@thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows
@ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce
@darling006 @sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood
@daniblogs164 @mirzamsaiph
#call of duty#call of duty fic#task force 141 x reader#poly task force 141#john price x reader#captain price x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#gaz x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#x reader#alpha/beta/omega#a/b/o#omegaverse
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Hot To Go
Song inspo!! - HOTTOGO by Chappell Roan
Tags / cw: headcanons, cheerleader!reader x dropout!ellie, fluff, Highschool au, Ellie is older by 1 year, reader is in senior year, 90s era
Dropout!Ellie who always does her best to show up and be supportive of your cheerleading
She always makes sure to pick you up every Friday night after practice, long after the sun has set and dew had started to form on the cold grass field.
She makes sure to wait by her pickup truck in the parking lot, leaning against the drivers side door and listening to music on her walkman until you come over to meet her.
She always greets you with a kiss on the cheek and one of her jackets to keep you warm in your thin uniform - the smell of her wrapped around you makes you feel so cozy.
Dropout!Ellie who lets you hangout with her in the back of her truck after practice, eating the worst junk food known to man as you gossip about people from your school
You’re sitting in the back of her truck, cuddling her under a shared blanket as you share a greasy cheese pizza - your legs intertwined as you try to feed her a slice with her eyes closed, making you both giggle as she fails miserably.
While she dropped out a couple years ago, she was still in the grade above you, so you have some shared memories about school. There are certain people she knows about, but most of them that you gossip about are complete strangers.
“No fucking way, he still goes there? Dude’s like a super duper senior at this point!”
Dropout!Ellie who won’t let you go home without a proper goodbye, leading to giggly make out sessions in her truck as you both try to hide from the automatic nightlights in your driveway.
Dropout!Ellie who sneaks into your school to watch your routines during matches, and somehow never gets caught.
At this point, you’re 99% sure she’s bribing the office ladies not to rat her out because they still have a soft spot for her.
Ellie never fucking tells you when she’s gonna show up, so every single time it takes you by surprise when you see her hiding behind the bleachers and cheering you on as you balance at the top of the pyramid.
And every single time, you almost fall from how distracted you get.
Dropout!Ellie who tries to involve herself with your schoolwork and be helpful, but is the exact opposite of what she attempts to do.
You’re studying for finals at the park while Ellie swings upside down on some random tree branch, blasting rock so loud that you can hear it all the way on the bench.
All of a sudden you hear her run over to you, leaves crunching under her feet, and two heavy hands landing on your shoulders
“So whatcha doinggg??”
She immediately regrets asking, because now you’ve trapped her next to you and planted a massive textbook in front of her to help you study.
“Babe- I dropped out in grade ten there’s no way I can help with any of this shit-”
Secretly, she gets a little sad sometimes because she can’t connect with you about school or share classes with you since she dropped out.
Dropout!Ellie who tried doing your makeup once, and you never let her go near it again because of how bad it was.
“No- Ellie it’s meant to be sparkly on the inner corner-”
“Stop with the fucking medical terms and just let me-”
“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO-”
You were 27 minutes late to practice that day because of how much Ellie insisted she do your makeup even though it wasn’t necessary.
You spent those 27 minutes desperately trying to wipe off the bright blue glitter she’d spread all the way up to your eyebrows.
Sometimes you still find pieces of glitter in your carpet from the whole fiasco.
You help her feel better, though, by letting her pick out which bows to put in your hair and which colours you can use for eyeshadow during games.
Dropout!Ellie who makes sure she’s always there with you during games, even when she can’t make it herself.
While you were busy getting dressed into your uniform, she was fiddling around with you pom-poms, eyeing all the pretty colours and sparkles.
She wanted to stay as long as she could until you had to leave for the game, because this time she couldn’t go with you.
But a sharpie on your desk caught her eye, and she suddenly had a small idea on what she could do.
And hours later, after the game, when you went to grab your stuff to leave, you noticed a tiny little black smudge on the handle of your pom-poms. And upon taking a closer look, a small smile made its way to your face after you saw your girlfriend’s faded initials hidden behind all the ribbons and plastic.
Dropout!Ellie who cannot wait for summer, when she can finally have you all to herself without school or practice or homework getting in the way.
Half of the summer you aren’t even sleeping at home. Instead, Ellie sneaks you out of the house and drives three hours into the middle of nowhere to look at the stars.
She puts up some blankets and pillows in the back of her truck, brings out a radio softly playing nirvana, and a Tupperware box of cookies she made to share as you lay in the back of her truck to stargaze.
She points out the bigger ones, and the ones making constellations to you as you wrap your arms around her and listen to her nerdy mumbling, slowly lulling you to sleep.
“See? That one there’s called Ursa Major. I uh, read it somewhere a while back in one of those astronomy books you got me.”
“…mhm…”
She giggles at your quiet chirps to her explanations as your slowly fall asleep, before pulling a blanket over you and lets you drift off under the stars.
And when you wake up - still outside in the back of her truck - resting on her now sleeping chest, you glance at Ellie and her resting expression. You watch how it becomes blanketed by the early morning sunrise, and you listen to how the radio is playing some indie country artist you couldn’t name.
And after a while, you decide that, despite the fact she’s a dropout and your a straight A cheerleader, and despair the fact that it is the most random pairing ever, you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Taglist: @happysparklingshadows @irelandzo @r3starttt @iamaboringrattat @genderfluidlesbain999 @slut4mascss @rxreaqia @kylorey25 @massivepeacefemme @elliewilliamsfavborderhopper @ratdungeon @elxarw @mariasabanahabanabana @vvynia @abbyshands @littlegingerperson5 @flowersforvi
#tlou2#the last of us#the last of us 2#tlou#Ellie Williams x you#Ellie Williams x reader#Ellie Williams#Ellie Williams tlou#Ellie Williams the last of us#Ellie Williams tlou2#Ellie Williams the last of us 2
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dark red — megumi fushiguro
megumi x f!reader
18+ content, apocalypse au, slow burn, strangers to lovers
12k
summary: megumi finds himself growing closer to you as you both fight to survive in an infected world.
October 30th.
You eye your floppy, double-paged calendar lovingly as you uncap a marker, drawing a big ‘X’ across the date.
Your eyes scan over the top page of it. It has some corny close-up stock photo of a bird with the month October printed in big, cursive lettering. It’s the type of calendar that your grandmother would keep in her office, very neutral with nature images. And for some reason, it’s like your comfort object. It made you happy, reminded you of simpler things and simpler times. It reminded you of life before- before the infectious bite.
The bite is deadly.
Or, beyond deadly, since it doesn’t quite kill you.
Your brain only rots away and hunger pools at the pit of your stomach, the only thing to sedate it being human flesh. Ah, yes, the infamous zombie bite.
You and countless others had seen it plenty of times- in movies, in shows, in video games. Even funny little quizzes would pop up on your timeline, Who Would You Be In A Zombie Apocalypse?
Never would you have dreamed of it all coming true.
When you think about it, it happened so simply, so quickly, that the sequence of events could be plastered onto an elementary foldable. You think that’s what’s probably going to happen, in the future, when humanity re-establishes itself. When.
Not an if, but a when.
You were one of the few that strongly believed that humans could overcome such devastation and rebuild. Perhaps you could help in creating a better world.
It happened as such: A disease was created. Created. This fact alone angered the population enough to start riots, protests, petitions. It was the beginning of the end. A disease that was supposedly heavily concealed and secured was created by the government, until all the scientists working on restricting the disease escaped the laboratory, no longer themselves. They’d changed, transformed, and it had only spread like a wildfire from there.
With people constantly out on the streets to protest and express their disbelief and opposition to diseases being formulated in the first place, it was not that difficult for it to spread. And spread it did.
Humankind really took a hit. There was no organization, no plan, no stability to overcome the outbreak. The government was too busy trying to better their image and hide their mistakes that no one even considered a plan of action to tackle the sickness and the spread. It was literal hell. Infrastructure was being torn down, people were turning against each other, either locking themselves away from everyone else or going out into the world to try to play hero.
You had a sliver of luck on your side.
Now, you didn’t make it without pain and hardships, no, the world would simply be going too easy on you. But when you and your college friends decided to scram, to flee in prevention of being cornered, it played out rather nicely. Others had traveled back home, or hid themselves in their dorms, too scared to go out and face the world. Their poor choices usually resulted in them being practically overtaken with zombies, with nowhere else to run.
You decided to keep it simple. To keep moving.
Your plan was to move upwards, towards the North. When the disease had initially broken out and there was still debate on whether it was a legitimate issue or not, nobody had really taken it seriously if the government wasn’t taking it seriously. In the early stages, when everyone was wishy-washy and laughing about it on their timelines, an organization in the North was formed and said to have set up a base- just in case.
It worked out in your favor. Just a little bit.
You had left with your roommate, Nobara, and her girlfriend Maki. The three of you participated in all the chaos, too- what else could you have done? Law was no longer applicable. The three of you sought out to steal, to take, to do what you needed. You remember it all, the beginning of summer.
You focus back on your calendar. It’s late October now.
You were also completely alone now. Nobara and Maki had given up their lives when the three of you scrambled around a sporting goods store for weapons and had been targeted by a herd of zombies. Maki was the strongest, so she took it upon herself to fend them off until it became slightly overbearing. Nobara had jumped in to help, the both of them hollering at you to hurry and find a weapon and run. One last look into their eyes was all it took, for they knew the both of them wouldn’t be able to make it out alive.
You traveled alone, carrying a huge backpack with a bright red wagon trailing behind you at all times. All food, cooking ware, and clothing were stored in the wagon, protected by a tarp and a heap load of bungee cords. The backpack held all the little snacks, medicine, and bottles of hot water. It was never hot by choice. It just never cooled fully after you boiled it to fend away the bacteria.
In the very back pocket, where a laptop would typically be, was your crumpled calendar.
Every evening was the same- you had a three-step routine to provide yourself a feeling of stability in the midst of chaos; 1) Hide yourself amongst the trees, 2) Cross off the day in your calendar, 3) Go straight to sleep. It was a routine that had a sense of simplicity and discipline that you so desperately needed. You could not let yourself forget to mark off the days (you’d probably lose your mind from the lack of track of time) and you absolutely could not let yourself stay awake longer than needed. Sometimes, you would explore an unwelcome corner in your mind. A corner that whispered that maybe you’d be better off just dying, at this rate. No more struggles, no more worries, just sleep. Luckily, the sounds of nature and the idea of a better future always pulled you out of that spiral.
You tuck your marker into your pocket and bring the floppy thing close to yourself before a feeling of embarrassment comes over you, as if someone is watching you from afar.
With heated cheeks, you scurry to sloppily stuff it back into the back pocket of your pack before curling up against it, pulling your parka tighter against yourself to go to sleep.
When you woke up, everything was the same. The world was still falling apart, and you were still alone.
You hauled yourself up and pat at your cheeks- they stung from the oncoming cold. You knew that winter would be difficult to handle- you figured it would probably be much worse than the summer. You’d just have to face it alone, with limited shelter and supplies.
You pulled on your backpack, tugged at the handle of your wagon, and went on your way.
You weren’t alone for long.
You walked at the edges of the forest, smart enough to not make yourself a target in the middle of the road, but you still needed it to guide you. You were well hidden among the trees, but were close enough to peek out between branches and leaves to make out the pattern of the street.
A loud snap had jolted you awake from your light daydreaming. You immediately stopped walking and slowly reached down to the wagon, trying to pull the tarp away as quietly as possible.
Your eyes flitted among the scenery, mind on alert as you reached for the only impactful weapon you had- a bat.
You managed to successfully grab it, and you held it out defensively, waiting for something to come rushing at you. A few minutes pass and nothing happens.
Knuckles turning white from your grip on the handle, you stepped forward slowly, trying to find the source of the sound. It was a stupid move, you knew, but you also could not keep moving with the knowledge that there was possibly a zombie in the same woods as you. It would probably eat you alive- the idea and the zombie.
You try not to trek too far from your wagon, and you promise to yourself that after a couple more steps, you’ll turn back around and you’ll act like this never happened to save yourself from panic later.
Your little plan is interrupted when your eyes make out a figure not too far from yourself. It’s tall, and unnervingly still, with its back facing you. You can’t decipher whether or not it’s a human.
You squint and make out the movement of clean, steady hands. You see, in one hand, a little radio, crackling and emitting fuzzy noises. The other hand is occupied by something that you cannot make out. It’s at that moment that you know you’re safe- at least you hope so.
The sight of another human excites you so much, you cannot help the sudden adrenaline that surrounds your heart and the smile that reaches your face as you cheerily (and semi-softly) call out, “Hey!”
The person whirls around and suddenly your heart drops, the adrenaline mushing into dread, your smile faltering. He faces you with a gun, held up high, level with his eyes in order to aim properly.
He gives you a once-over before interrogating you. “What do you want?”
“Oh,” You sputter, limbs feeling heavy with fear. “N-Nothing,” You try, “Just…. just bumped into you here.”
“Okay,” He starts hesitantly, dark blue eyes showing you distrust. “Run off, then.”
Your heart drops even harder, this time. To think that he doesn’t want anything to do with you, that he doesn’t even want to talk, to meet another human. You assume he’s alone, too, since he’s got a backpack that looks much heavier than your own right on his back, straps tight.
It’s not that you necessarily expect anything from him- it’s just that this is a rare moment. You haven’t spoken to another person in months.
The crackling of the radio fills in the quiet between the two of you before he pulls you from your thoughts, “We can part ways, now.”
His voice is only slightly condescending, and he talks as if it’s an obvious fact.
“Wait,” You lazily blurt, hand reaching out just a little as if he had offered something for you to hold onto. “Don’t you want to be friends?”
He scoffs at you, embarrassing you. “Friends?”
“W-well, not friends,” You struggle, ears and neck heating up, “Just, yunno, partners or- yunno?”
“No.”
His blatant answer makes you wince. As much as he makes you feel small, a sliver of desperation shines through your timid form and you try again. “You know what I mean,” You breath out exasperatedly, “There’s nearly no one else left in the world. Might as well work together. We can take turns patrolling and sleeping, and especially when it comes to gathering supplies- like the buddy system, kinda- and things will run smoother. We can put what we have together.”
He knew you were right. He hated that he knew you were right.
Truthfully, Megumi had no intentions to create bonds and team up with people. He thought it would only slow him down, both physically and mentally- he went out of his way to avoid attachment.
He responds with silence, so you give it another shot.
“I’m moving North, too… if that’s… if that’s what you plan to do as well.”
It catches him, and you knew you had won him over. And he knew, that you knew, that you had convinced him enough. The way that he had faltered and his stern expression melted into one of surprise told you all that you needed to know.
You gave him a little smile to soften the blow of his loss.
“Fine,” He says through gritted teeth, letting his arm fall to his side in defeat. He sees you keep your eyes trained on the gun, so he tucks it away in an attempt to ease your nerves.
You tell him about your supply wagon and let him know he can probably lighten the load on his back by mixing his supplies with yours. While you lead him back down the path where you had abandoned your precious wagon, you try to get him to converse with you. His silent nature made you a little nervous, but you were deeply in need of human connection.
“Oh! By the way, my name-”
“No.”
You cough and look up at him, shock written across your features. “Huh?”
“We shouldn’t do that. Exchange names, I mean. It’s just the two of us, we’ll be fine without it.”
“Huh?” You call out again, this time louder and with more confusion. He shoots you a glare that tells you to shut up.
“But- why not? What am I supposed to call you?”
“I already said, it’s just the two of us. Who else could you be addressing? Exchanging names makes us friends. We are, by no means, friends.”
You watch him speak with an unbothered tone, eyes not even meeting yours as he empties half of his supplies into the wagon. Your mouth is slightly agape and you falter to respond, but as he swings his backpack around, a flash of black and white catches your attention.
“Are those…” You trail off before he finally makes eye contact with you.
“Are those plushies?”
You see him freeze, and his pale skin blossoms with color. “No.”
“Oh, come on,” You huff out playfully, almost circling him to get a better look at the little fluffy keychains that hang clustered together at the zipper of his backpack. Two tiny but puffy little dogs of opposite colors stare right back at you, felt tongues poking out and all.
“Huh. Didn’t peg you as a dog boy. Or an anyone boy, for that matter.”
“Are you done? We need to keep moving.”
“Alright, alright,” You huff, reaching for the handle of the wagon. He takes hold of it before you get the chance and starts walking, and you feel your heart smile at his silent offer to pull it for you. You didn’t think there was a deeper meaning to it, you were just happy that you didn't have to haul that heavy thing around for once. “No need to be snappy, Dog Boy.”
He only groans in response.
The rest of the day flies by in silence. You try your luck a few times to start a conversation, to pull anything out of him, but he’s so damn stubborn, either keeping his eyes focused on the path ahead or fiddling with his radio. The radio gives him an excuse to tell you to shut up, since he needs to hear if there are any broadcasts or incoming news- signs of life.
He finally speaks up when he claims it’s time to sleep.
The two of you settle against a cluster of tree trunks, and you repeat the same thing you’ve been doing for months on end- laying against your backpack, looking at your calendar with a glint of hope and desperation in your eyes.
Megumi watches as you pull and flatten it out before rummaging around for your marker. He narrows his eyes and tries to focus on the clunky piece of paper you seem to be carrying around.
He makes out the rows and columns of dates, an unimpressed look dawning on his face. “Don’t tell me…”
“Hm?” You hum lightly, beckoning him to continue.
“Don’t tell me you carry that thing around and actually use it.”
“What else can I say? We’ll need it, in the future. Once everything starts going back to normal, people are gonna be like, ‘Oh no! What day is it? What season are we going into? Must we start a new calendar?’ And then, I’ll have my trusty calendar right here, with all the dates crossed off. Think about it. Very important.”
He remains quiet as you make big ‘X’ on the final date, October 31st.
“Hm. We met on Halloween. Funny, isn’t it? I think it suits you a little.”
He disregards your last comment and speaks with a monotone voice, “Don’t get ahead of yourself. Humanity will never recover- that thing’s useless. Just taking up space.”
You fall quiet after that. Normally, you think, you wouldn’t be too iffed by some pessimism. But his comment regarding your calendar and how easily he dismissed your hopes had hurt, just a little.
Maybe more than a little.
You instinctively held the thing a little closer to you, as if to protect it. You avoid his eyes and silently decide that the conversation should probably end there.
He sees you shift a little farther away from him, bringing the stupid thing closer to your chest. He can’t find it in himself to care.
You admire that cheesy stock photo on the top of the calendar before flipping the bottom page to sneak at a glance for the photo for November. It’s a scene of a pathway formed by trees, nearly dead trees, with the leaves caught mid-fall, yellows and oranges everywhere. November is, again, printed in large cursive at the top of the page.
You fold it back up and jam it into your backpack before pulling it down closer to your head, to use it as a pillow. You wrap yourself up in your parka and turn to sleep on your side, back facing Megumi. He sees it all from the corner of his eye and scoffs to himself, remarking how childish you are.
Steady hands lay his gun next to him, close to his head- just in case he ever needs it throughout the night. He sleeps firm on his back, but he turns his head to look at you just before he dozes off.
Bathing becomes much easier, now that Megumi’s around.
Before the two of you crossed paths, you would rid yourself of your clothes shakily, always leaving them on the rocks that kissed the lake. You couldn’t even clean yourself off properly, eyes always on the lookout for movement or an undead form to creep up on you.
You had begged him. Shamelessly. The whole morning consisted of you yapping away, Please, Dog Boy, there’s a perfectly good lake right there, and a rock for you to sit on while you wait and patrol. I’ll patrol after. I really, really need this bath.
He wouldn’t even look at you as he gave you a hard No.
Megumi was beyond dead set on moving forward. Over the last few days, he was always quick to shut you down and occasionally scold you for being so easily distracted and perhaps a little too light-hearted for your own good.
But this was your last straw.
He only caved in when you threatened to wipe some of your sweat off on him. You had never seen him recoil from something so fast.
After making him literally swear to not turn around and peek while you were bathing- to which he had rolled his eyes and told you he wouldn’t even dare to consider such a thing- you pointed to the rock for him to sit on before you began to strip. Megumi could only hear the light splashes of you walking into the water and your little cries of Oh my god, it’s so fucking cold.
You gladly took advantage of such a moment. Finally, you had got to scrub every corner of your skin, finally got to really wash at your scalp, all without looking around in fear of what’s out there.
And maybe you were taking a little too long, because after a while, Megumi coughed out to remind you that he was still there. His back was starting to hurt from sitting on the rock for so long without proper support.
“How much longer are you going to take?”
“Not too much longer,” You sing-songed, clumsily trying to dip your head in the water to wash out your hair.
He rolled his eyes to himself at the tone of your voice. You were much too playful for his liking.
“Don’t worry, Doggy,” You teased, though your voice was slightly muffled from your awkward position in the water. “You can bathe after this. Although, you might smell worse after- like wet dog.”
He could hear you laughing to yourself like a child.
Megumi never responded to your little lighthearted jabs.
Life goes on as it always has. With Megumi so quiet, sometimes you ponder if you had been better off just walking away from him that day. And, if he wasn’t quiet, he was always on your back about something.
(“Why’s this water so warm?”
“I boiled it. It’s from the lake. We can’t get sick, you know.”
“You poured hot water into an insulated water bottle?”
“My God, just- just drink the damn water, Doggy. Or don’t, not like I care. More for me.”
“Shut up. I’ll drink it.”)
The two of you were nearly on opposite ends of the spectrum, personality wise. You two would’ve probably clashed if you hadn’t taken things in such a jovial manner. He even started calling you Sunshine mockingly, as if to belittle you for being so stupidly bright and optimistic when the world was reaching its end.
The first time he called you that, you had actually smiled. He had to refrain from reprimanding you for being so… so...happy-go-lucky.
He couldn’t pinpoint as to why your preppy nature had irritated him so much, but his epiphany reached him one night when the two of you settled against a group of tree trunks, like you always did.
You were, as always, cuddled up with your little calendar. Megumi discreetly watched as you marked off the day, taking note of how you had to redraw the ‘X’ a few times. Your marker was drying out.
You were well into November, and you scanned over the rows of dates, spotting the box marked Thanksgiving. With your tongue slightly poking out, you poorly drew a little turkey inside the box.
He watched as you scanned over the top and bottom page again, but he felt like your mind was elsewhere.
“When’s your birthday?”
Your question caught him off guard, and he flustered as he quickly looked away, fearing that you had seen him watching.
“What?”
“Your birthday. When’s your birthday?”
He cast you an awkward sort of look. “December 22nd.”
“Cool,” You replied almost automatically before flipping the page of your calendar. Megumi’s eyes only slightly widened as he witnessed you try to cram the words Dog Boy Birthday in the little box marked with 22. He was unsure if he was meant to see that. He didn’t want to embarrass you by mentioning it, but he felt like it shouldn’t go unmentioned, either.
“You don’t need to do that.”
“Why not?” You were being genuine.
“Because,” He said without knowing what it was he wanted to say. “Because. It’s pointless.”
“Pointless this, pointless that.”
Your comeback wasn’t all that great, but you had brushed off his statement so easily- you had seemed to have grown accustomed to his little remarks, especially the ones with negative tones behind it.
That’s when his revelation crashed over him. It hit him so strongly, and he was frozen in place as you mumbled a goodnight before cuddling up to your clunky backpack.
You were so precious. Because despite all your banter, you were always playful about it, and when you weren’t being playful, you were being genuine. You always openly offered him things, the fair share of your supplies, always told him to get some sleep while you keep watch, always told him to eat up, have the last of your water bottles, always looked out for him in little ways that he did not bother to return. And, what irritated him so much about it was that you were so vulnerable, open, shamelessly smiling and laughing alone or at him, trying to get him to laugh too. And he hated how you had done all this, offered so much to him, remained open to him, only for him to constantly chastise you and feed you despairing comments.
He wanted you to put up more of a fight. He wanted you to be able to be okay, without him. Megumi criticized himself after having that thought. He knew that your nature didn’t equate to weakness, but he couldn’t help but let his mind wander off a little….
You were so easy to trust him. At any moment could you have given up something to him and he could’ve just ran off with it, leaving you empty handed and destined to literally die. He thought that if something were to ever happen to him, and you kept going on with your open, kittenish self, that someone would come along and take everything you ever knew and had.
Thinking of it made his chest pinch. He felt guilty for criticizing your calendar, the symbolization of all your hopes, on the day that you met. If he hadn’t realized this all now, he may have become the one to take all that you knew and had, figuratively. The way that he had belittled your dreams for the future had already spoken for itself.
He laid down to finally sleep after swallowing down his thoughts, and he turned to look at your sleeping form, wantonly. He wanted to be better to you.
Suddenly, he thinks about how weird he looks, watching you sleep. His ears flush red and he turns to sleep on his side, back facing you, as if he needs to cover his tracks from the peering trees.
You’re woken up by a string of broken, awkward groans.
You assume it’s Megumi. Your eyes are crusted with sleep, so you don’t even bother to flash him a teasing look as you lightly jab, “Hush, Doggy.”
He doesn’t respond with his usual sneer or command to shut the hell up, but with an even louder, pained groan.
You sigh to yourself. He’s probably having a nightmare. You feel generous enough to break him from his terrors and lazily sit up, roughly rubbing away at your eyes and reaching over to him.
Your hands meet a still, soft and sleeping form, completely at peace.
You do a double-take when the feeling of his form contradicts the pained sounds he’s making and suddenly, you’re up and wide awake, especially when you come to realize that the groans are not coming from him.
Whirling around to find the source, you come to see a beat-down zombie, tumbling its way towards you both. It’s missing a leg and its steps are off-kilter, slow, and if you had it in you to laugh at it, you’d probably laugh.
“Holy shit,” You whisper to yourself, body stilling out of fear. For a few seconds, you can’t bring yourself to do anything, and the creature crawls closer, despite it being so slow.
You finally come to your senses and weakly shake Megumi to wake him up.
He’s knocked out cold. You figure that it’s from exhaustion- the both of you had been taking a beating from your recent drop in supplies. The last thing the two of you ate was a granola bar for yesterday’s breakfast. It wasn’t even a whole granola bar- Megumi split it in half for the both of you. You had let him have the last drop of hot water, too. The both of you were running on empty.
You trip over yourself and hastily pull on your backpack, still focusing on getting Megumi to awake.
“Dog Boy,” You whisper-yell, lightly kicking at his leg. It’s ridiculous, you think. All of this is ridiculous. You have only a sliver of time to spare, thanks to the zombie moving at the speed of molasses, so you settle yourself behind Megumi and wrap your arm across his torso, beneath his own arms, your grip on him loose as you drag his body further away. Your main priority now is getting away, creating distance between you and the undead figure. As you tug on him, his gun slips out into the sunlight and you gasp, using your other hand to grab at it shakily.
You had no idea how to use it.
You hold it up to the sun and try to look for the little safety knob that you often heard that guns have. You spotted it, but you couldn’t tell if it was on or not.
You’re sloppily scooting back, heaving Megumi with you, nearly falling backwards from the weight of your backpack. If you’re being honest, the two of you hadn’t even gotten that far. With Megumi attached to his backpack, he was heavy, and with your newfound weakness from exhaustion, the two of you probably only moved five inches max.
The creature looms closer, and on second thought, maybe using the gun isn’t that smart of an idea. It would be noisy, easily giving away your location and the two of you would instantly become magnets, become bait. You wouldn’t be able to drag Megumi away fast enough to save yourselves.
You eye around for your bat but it’s much too far. It’s tucked away under the tarp on your wagon and the zombie is already too close, surpassing the wagon- there’s no way you could get it without actually surviving.
Tears prick at your eyes. No, you think, now’s not the time. Your hands are shaking- you’ve never been this close to a zombie before- and you’re thinking fuck it, your arm letting Megumi go to steady your grip on the gun.
Megumi drops down on the ground with a thud as you release him, but you don’t have the time to fret over it and ask if he’s okay. You think your ears are playing tricks on you when you hear a groan that’s a little too close.
You wrap your hands around the base and stupidly close your eyes as your finger lands on the trigger.
Everything after happens too fast for you to register, almost like a dream. You feel cold hands wrap around your own and tear the weapon away from you, and then a few loud bangs go off, and then it’s quiet.
“Christ,” He mutters, voice caked from sleep. His eyes are droopy, and he looks so jaded, you’re preparing for him to chew you out about how stupid you were being before offering a list of what you could’ve done better.
But he only slumps from fatigue, closer to you, nearly into you. He’s the weakest you’ve ever seen him, but guilt nips at the edges of his heart for making you go through such a thing.
“Are you okay?” He finally breathes out, lifting his head to meet your eyes.
You’re taken back at the sudden display of concern.
He sees your face flash with unfamiliarity as a response to his question. The guilt makes its way past the edges and into the depths of his heart, now. He hopes it’s not too late. He hopes that he hasn't already become that person for you, the one that takes everything you know.
“Yeah,” You say quietly from the shock of it all.
Megumi falls silent after that, tired.
A few beats pass and he speaks, “We need to keep moving,” He says weakly, convincing himself more than you.
“Yeah.”
Lethargy is a plague between the both of you.
Megumi tells you that you both need to find a store, and fast. He pulls out a map from one of his backpack pockets, and it’s so torn and dampened with water and other questionable substances that you can barely even make out the lines.
But he reads it like a pro. He misses the look of admiration in your eyes when he finally concludes that it would be smarter to move in closer towards the suburban area. He says there’s a higher chance of strip malls and markets to sneak around and take from. You trust his word.
The trek there is nearly torturous.
It’s getting colder, and you try not to think about how the two of you will survive when winter hits. Your feet ache and ache, and you’re sure that you’re slowing Megumi down- you swear you see him slow down his steps just the slightest. You have to refrain from complaining like a small child, asking over and over Are we there yet?
You finally reach a parking lot, and you think you could nearly drop down to your knees and kiss the gravel.
Your sense of euphoria is interrupted as a horrible stench reaches your nose. It’s unmistakable; it makes you double over and slap a hand over your nose and mouth, coughing roughly as you feel a series of gags coming on.
Dead bodies were sporadically laying across the parking lot, some human, some zombie. Megumi looks at you pitifully, then looks away as you live through your coughing fit, not wanting you to feel worse about being seen in such a state.
“‘So bad,” You finally manage to wheeze out, cueing him to look at you.
He reaches into the wagon, towards the end of it, where the clothing was stored all lumpy. He had to slowly pull out whatever it was he was looking for so that nothing else spilled out, and he tugged one end of it slowly, revealing it to you.
A big, lumpy scarf that has the most terrible pink camouflage print all across it. It’s horrendous, really. You remember you had stuffed it into your wagon a few months back, thinking about how you’d probably need it later.
Now was later.
He steps closer to you, close enough that it’s distracting and you nearly freak out at the proximity. He sees your confusion spark across your face and he hushes you before you even start. “To help with the smell.”
That’s all he says as he reaches behind you, gently wrapping the scarf across your head, leaving you enough room to breathe but making it secure enough so that the scent is muffled.
“‘M so tired, Doggy.” Your voice was stifled by the heavy fabric.
“I know,” He says, and he does.
You then feel bad for voicing your little complaint. Megumi was just as tired as you were, perhaps even more, and he hadn’t complained once, nor did he scold you for being a crybaby like you thought he would.
Once he saw that you were satisfied with the scarf and concluded that you wouldn’t bend over and gag again, he smoothed his hand over his jacket awkwardly. “I’m gonna go inside and find more stuff. Are you okay with me taking your wagon and your pack?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Megumi has to lean in closer to hear your voice. “I understand if you don’t want to trust me with all your things.”
“Our things,” you enunciate.
“It’s-” He starts, then pauses abruptly. He doesn’t want to keep creating a divide between the two of you. “Yeah. Ours,” He affirms, searching your eyes for a reaction. He can tell you’re smiling stupidly (cutely) behind the scarf.
“You’re sure?”
“More than anything.”
He thinks, for a second, that your answer means something more. But you play it off, immediately taking off your backpack, so he chastises his previous thought as he takes your nearly empty pack into his hands. “Are you gonna stay out here?”
“Mhm. I’ll try ‘n find a place to sit.”
“Okay. I won’t take long, I promise.”
“Thank you.”
He turns on his heel and walks in a straight line towards the entrance of the store, where you can make out the broken and crooked sliding doors that had probably been jammed so many times before they gave in.
You take note of how many vehicles have been haphazardly left behind in the parking lot, mostly likely during moments of panic.
If only...
You begin to search the parking lot, bending down to get a clearer sight of all the miscellaneous objects scattered across the ground. Something glints in the corner of your eye, and you perk up, rushing towards it before scooping it up in your hand.
It’s a clunky, round keychain that says Dog Dads Are The, and right below the text is an image of a dog taking a dump.
“Huh,” You huff out with a little smile, “Perfect.”
You take hold of the set of keys that are strung along the ring and single one out- vehicle keys. They’re the type of keys that you have to manually insert into the lock in order to actually open the car door.
As soon as you stand up straight, you search for the oldest looking car throughout the entire parking lot. Your eyes fall upon a truck that looks like it’s been to hell and back, little scratches and scuff marks lining the sides with splotches of blood on the doors. You note that it only has two doors- the two of you will really have to squeeze in.
If you ignore the poetic spots of blood, it's one solid color- a color that resembles dirt, you think. It looks like a little old farm truck, with crates stacked in the bed, and there’s a little figure of a cow swinging from the rear view mirror.
You try your luck and insert the key, to which it fits. Your heart has never fluttered so viciously before.
Turning the key, you see the little button on the inside of the door pop up. The door swings open ungraciously, a creaky sound ringing out. It makes you freeze, looking around to see if you had alerted anything that could be lurking.
You decide to hold off until Megumi comes back. It’s completely dead quiet, and he might freak out inside the store at the sound of an engine.
Just as he promised, he didn’t take long. He steps out to see you sitting in the truck with the door open, your knees brought close to your chest, and although the both of you are incredibly grimey, spent and hanging on to your final threads, you look so peaceful curled up like that. He thinks that maybe he would’ve liked to see you like that, under better circumstances.
“Sunshine,” He starts as he gets closer, and you open your eyes and unravel from your coiled position.
Megumi shuffles towards the bed of the truck and starts unpacking the wagon into the back. “Got some food,” he offers, unloading a loaf of bread that has yet to go stale. You hold it like it’s precious, waiting for him to unpack everything into your new truck.
“Does it have gas?”
“Dunno,” You say tiredly, and hopelessness sneaks up on you again. Perhaps you had put too many eggs in one basket.
“Move over.”
You scoot to the opposite side of the seat to make room for him. He plops down in the driver's seat and you perk up to hand him the keys, “Look, look.” Untangling all the keys from each other, you proudly hold up the keychain to his face. He furrows his eyebrows at first, but then his face melts into an amused expression as he reads over the whole thing and gets the joke.
“Very funny.” He rolls his eyes, but you know he’s being lighthearted.
He takes the key and inserts it, holding his breath in hopes that it’ll work, that the heavens are on your side today.
They seemed to be, since after a few turns, the engine sputtered and coughed, and soon enough, it was settled. Megumi checks the gas level and nods approvingly to himself. He explains that it’s enough to get you a bit farther, but it’d be smart to keep an eye out for gas stations, or, better yet, other vehicles.
You unwrap your scarf from around yourself and begin to unveil the loaf of bread as well, breaking the fluffy food in half to share. The two of you eat in silence, save for the low humming of the engine. You’re too tired to talk.
Through the window, you see that it’s getting darker, and you remember your calendar. As you shuffle around to pull it out, Megumi seems to remember something as well, as he takes his bag into his lap and unzips one of the front, small pockets.
You don’t notice his hesitation as you bring out the floppy thing and lay it on the dashboard, smoothing all the wrinkles away.
He stares into his backpack pocket. He knows it’s okay to be vulnerable with you. He wants to be vulnerable with you. Embarrassment rushes up his neck and to his ears, but you don’t notice. You’re too busy shaking your old marker to force some ink to come out.
“Here,” He breaks the silence, voice cracking from the lack of use. “Here’s…. I figured you might need it, I…” Megumi shuts himself up as he sloppily tosses you a pack of permanent markers.
The way your face lights up makes it all worth it. He thinks he could face this type of embarrassing feeling every day if it makes you this happy.
“D’awwwww,” You coo, poking fun at him. You’re as jovial as always, eyes bright as you uncap one of the markers and mark the day off, marveling at how smoothly the marker glides.
He speaks up before he can stop himself. “I’m sorry.”
You pause and look back at him, the look on your face encouraging him to go on.
“I mean, I’m sorry for… what I said on the day we met. About your calendar.”
Your demeanor lightens again.
“Ah, that- don’t worry, Doggy. I don’t even think about that, barely even remember it. It’s okay. You’re good.”
He knows you’re being genuine, and that you really do forgive him. He sees it in the way you brush it off, going back to your markers and looking at them like they’re made out of gold. He feels something in his chest lighten, like the guilt from that night had been weighing him down this entire time.
Once the both of you finish your chunks of bread, and after you tuck your calendar away, you curl up on opposite sides of the seat and sleep the most comfortable you have in ages.
Everything’s a breeze now that the two of you have the truck.
It’s easier to fend off the cold, and the both of you have more energy since you don’t have to walk anywhere. The days seem to fly by faster, and with each passing day, you see Megumi opening up to you a little more. He’s not as harsh as he used to be, and even when he does mock you, it’s playful and light. There’s no more malice laced in his tone.
He’s softer now, cares more now. He accepts your invitations and attempts at making it concrete that it’s the both of you, together, as survival partners or whatever he likes to call it. Your stomach feels warm whenever he agrees or accepts your little comments about things being ‘ours’, referring to you as ‘us’ and ‘we’ rather than correcting you to ‘I’ like he used to.
It’s not enough for you, though. You can’t help but want a little more. You’re thankful that the two of you greet December, because a) you’re grateful to have even survived this long, and b) it’s much colder now, so he doesn’t question you that much when you coyly try to cozy up to him before bed, complaining about how you’re freezing and that you’ll die of frostbite.
He sees through your little act. He never mentions it, but he does. Megumi’s more than happy to let you have your fun.
Megumi’s usually the one who sneaks out into stores to refill your load of supplies, and you stay cozied in the truck. He says it’s because at any moment, if any one of you are away from the vehicle, someone just like you could easily take it. His statement is true, but he doesn’t mention his second, secret little reason- he likes to know that you’re safe and warm in there.
One day, though, you try to kiss up to him so that he’ll let you loot with him.
The morning starts off with you feeding him little compliments that are definitely out of pocket.
“Your hair looks rather nice today, Dog Boy.”
“Oh….yours, too.”
“Mhm. And that jacket you stole fits you well, I think. Really, uh, matches your vibe.”
“Yep.”
“Yeah. Your scarf looks real… real snazzy, too.”
That pulls a laugh out of him- he had been borrowing your pink camouflage scarf. He knew something was up, and you knew he did. You just wanted to get on his good side, at least for today.
“What is it that you want, Sunshine?”
“I wanna help you today, when you go fetch supplies.”
He’s driving, but you think that if he was doing anything else, he’d stop his movements. He recovers as fast as he had reacted and clears his throat. “Why?”
“I need some stuff.”
“Stuff.”
“Yeah.” You hope he doesn’t ask for elaboration.
“I’ll think about it.”
You let out a groan and let your head rest against the window, putting on a dramatic little show so that maybe he’ll cave.
He doesn’t seem to be caving in any time soon, and from afar, you can see the parking lot. You’re eyeing him nervously, unsure if you should bring it up or not, but you make the first move when you hold onto the door handle as if you’re preparing to get out once he parks.
He’s hesitant, takes his time to park and drives through the lot as if every space was taken. He could’ve taken up three spaces, if he wanted.
“Doggy. Stop stalling.”
“I just think you’d be safer if you stayed here.”
“I’ll be fast. I’ll get what I need and then come right back.”
That seems to ease his nerves, so he silently agrees and parks perfectly between the two lines before shutting the truck off.
You walk together to the entrance of the store, but as soon as you make it inside, he laughs to himself when you make a beeline to the sweets aisle. He couldn’t believe that you made such a fuss to join along just to get some of those mini cakes.
You stay true to your word and gather what you need before making your way back to the truck, keeping an eye out for Megumi. You hope he doesn’t see the small chocolate muffin that you’ve stuffed close to your chest in a weak attempt to hide it. He’d probably make fun of you.
When everything’s done and he meets you back at the truck, he’s slightly surprised to see that you hadn’t eaten your little sweet during ‘dinner’. He doesn’t have the energy to confront you about it.
Today’s the day, you think.
It’s difficult and very painful to conceal your excitement for all the hours that you spend at Megumi’s side. You try to calm your nerves by making lots of conversation with him, now that he’s more responsive. At first, you were the one to talk about your family, your old friends, how you grew up. Lately, though, in his mission to be more vulnerable and open with you, he reciprocates and tells you about his past, here and there.
Night falls. He’s closing up one of his stories about one of his old teachers that usually made you laugh till you cried. It makes you laugh this time too, except your heart is racing and you can feel your palms getting a little sweaty.
The both of you go quiet as you eat lightly, taking only a few bites before calling it a night.
“I have a surprise for you,” You suddenly say, and his face is plastered with confusion. “I need you to close your eyes.”
He’s so obviously taken aback that you snort at him. “Just for a second, it won’t take long. Please.”
He complies and places his hands over his eyes to reassure you that they’re for sure closed and that he can’t see anything. Megumi hears you rummaging around in your bag that you kept at your feet, hears you tear something open, and then you fall quiet.
You kind of want to throw up. You don’t know why this feels so difficult, why it’s making you so nervous. In the past, when Megumi was mean to you, you think that this might’ve been easier, because you’d be able to tell what reaction he would give.
You can’t tell anymore.
You collect yourself together before you speak up, finally, “Okay. You can look now.”
He removes his hands to see you sitting sideways in your seat, to face him. Your feet are tucked beneath you and you hold out a sloppy, slightly smeared chocolate muffin with an unlit candle stuck on top.
“Happy birthday, Dog Boy.”
Your voice is so soft and quiet, and he feels something take over him for a second. It’s strong, this feeling of adoration and something else he’s too nervous to admit, even to himself. He’s about to ask how in the world you would know that today’s his birthday, because he didn’t even know- but then he remembers the night you had written it into your calendar.
“You,” He begins, nearly breathless. “Thank you.”
You smile up at him and scoot closer, pushing the muffin towards him so that he could take it. He does, and he removes the candle and puts it on the dashboard, letting it roll away carelessly.
The muffin looks miniature in his big hands, which is to his advantage as he splits it into two, effortlessly. He offers you a piece and you take it with a big, gushy smile on your face. You don’t see him smiling back at you endearingly.
You’re bashful like the two of you are having a lunch date in a school courtyard. You want to look at him, revel in his features, but you don’t want to be caught staring either.
You throw yourself a bone and let yourself glance at him. He’s finished his piece, and all he’s doing now is swiping the crumbs off of his jacket. As he shifts around, you see a smudge of chocolate right by his lip.
“Wait,” You start, leaning closer. “There’s frosting on your lip.”
“Here?” He pokes his tongue out on the wrong side, and you have to bite back a little smile.
“No, no- I’ll get it for you,” You offer, leaning in even closer to him, nearly crawling right on top. You stick your thumb out gently, your touch feather light as you bring it to the corner of his lip and wipe off the small spot of frosting.
You linger on purpose, and his breath hitches.
“Sunshine,” He breathes, hands frozen in the air. He’s unsure of where to put them.
“Mhm?”
“Can I,” He starts, hesitates, then starts again. “Can I kiss you?”
Your smile speaks for you, but the moment that you let out a breathy yes, he cups your face and slots his lips against yours. He’s so soft, despite it being winter and the both of you constantly dry and chapped. He holds you, moves you like you’re a glass doll, so cautious and gentle. Megumi begins to shift the both of you, sitting up before pushing you down onto the seat.
It’s awkward. The truck is so small, the both of you clunking around, but you two take it like champs. He breaks away to give a little laugh against your lips, easing the tension, and it’s so wonderful, so beautiful, that you waste no time pulling him back down to kiss him just a bit harder.
You figure that he’s hesitant, and you appreciate that he isn’t pushy and trying to cross all boundaries at once. You know that if you only wanted to kiss and call it a night, he’d be perfectly okay with that.
But you’re as greedy as ever, and you want more of him.
You start playing with his lips, pulling away to softly bite at them, dart your tongue across the bottom one. It makes him freeze for a second, feelings of surprise and excitement engulfing his heart, but then he indulges. Megumi gently pulls your bottom lip into his mouth and sucks on it, thumb softly caressing your jaw.
And you’re so starved, having gone months without even shaking someone’s hand. His actions make you gasp out softly, and he feels driven to pull more out of you.
Megumi catches himself in his thoughts and pulls away again, “This- Is this okay?”
You’re melting beneath him. You nod rapidly, begging silently. “Yes,” You huff out, precious smile coming across your lips. “Please.”
He nods and then dives back in to kiss you square on the lips before moving lower, planting kisses down your neck as much as he can before your puffy parka interrupts him. He smiles fondly and looks up at you, seeing if you would notice the obstruction.
“Oh,” You let out, face hot. “Sorry.”
You’re so embarrassed, but Megumi thinks he could just eat you up.
You prop yourself onto your elbows as best as you can, messily unzipping the jacket and flinging it away. It’s not like it goes far, anyway. You hear the zipper scratch against the glove compartment as you thrash it away, and it makes the both of you laugh breathily.
You watch as he takes it upon himself to do the same, undoing the buttons on his own jacket before carelessly tossing it behind him. The two of you are now just in long sleeves and cargo pants, and he looks at you with an inkling of concern.
“It’s still cold,” He whispers, now that he’s lowering himself back over you, “Leave it on, yeah?”
You want nothing more than to rip your shirt off, but you know he’s right. You know that if you take it off, the bite of the cold would probably dampen your mood.
You can only nod obediently, eyes begging him again, for a kiss.
Megumi sneaks back down again to pick up where he left off, kissing along your neck and down to your collarbone before your shirt blocks off the rest of your chest from him. He’s moved his hands lower to rearrange your legs, to make it more comfortable for the both of you, and you’re so pliant beneath him, wanting all of his touches.
His hands reach the button of your pants, “I’m gonna…” he starts, but never finishes. He’s caught up in the way you lift your hips to help him slide down your pants, caught up in the sight of you in your underwear.
As soon as he tugs them off and pushes them to the side, you hiss as the cool air kisses your skin, and he’s quick to soothingly rub at your thighs, hands trailing down to your calves.
“I know,” He soothes, warming you up. “I know, baby.”
Megumi wants to take it slow, he wants to be able to ride out the moment, but the way you whimper at his touch pushes him. “Fuck- fuck, okay.”
His movements and options are limited due to the space of the truck. He can’t necessarily do everything he wants with you, but he's grateful for the moment regardless.
He moves back down to kiss you, slightly softer this time, with his forearm propped beside your head to keep him up, and his other trailing up and closer to the space between your thighs. Just the movement of his fingers gently dragging across your clothed cunt is enough to have you rutting up into his hand, desperate for more, tired of his slow pace. He’s swallowing all your sounds, but he pulls back as soon as he slips his hand beneath your panties, wanting to hear you this time. Cold fingers meet your folds and you twitch, legs nearly closing around his hand, and he smiles as he tuts at you. “Relax,” He breathes out against your jaw before softly nipping at it, kissing it.
You’re already wet, and he smiles to himself cheekily before lazily rubbing his fingers against your entrance to slicken them. It makes you sigh out, so pretty and light, and he just loves the way your chest rises and falls.
What he loves even more, though, is the moan you let out the second that he starts circling your clit, the way your hands tighten their grip on his shoulders. You’re trying to push yourself up against him, trying to feel more, but all he does is smile into your neck, absolutely basking in the way you need him so badly.
“Please,” You finally cave, voice airy as you softly drag your nails across his back to get his attention. “More, please, I want- I want you.”
He reaches up to plant a kiss on the corner of your lips. “All you had to do was ask.”
He smoothly pulls down your underwear entirely, and just the sight of your arousal clinging onto the cotton fabric is enough to have him swallowing, adam’s apple bobbing. Megumi slips only his middle finger into your core at first, and it’s enough to satisfy you for now, walls fluttering. His fingers are so long, and you think about just how big his hands are, and it’s enough to make you whine in your own little fantasy.
He takes his time in pumping it in and out of you before slipping his ring finger inside, picking up the pace. Your thighs tighten around his hand and you sloppily try to pull him down closer to you, hiding your face into the crook of his neck as he curls his fingers. The palm of his hand presses against your clit and you cry out, fingers latching onto his hair as you start your little spiel of babbles.
“Right there, right there, oh my god, there, there-”
You cut yourself off as he speeds up, your cute little incoherent sounds encouraging him. He wishes he could see your face, see the look in your eyes, but you can only squeal into his shoulder and knock your knees against his legs as you feel something within you tighten.
“Right here?” He teases, fingers curling against your warm walls, and the feeling of it is enough to make him hang his head low, panting, cock straining at the thought of how you’d feel around him.
“Mhm,” You choke out, too far gone to try and say something to tease him back. Your head drops back onto the seat and you feel your back arch up against him, heat swarming in your abdomen as you chant out breathily- Yes, yes, yes.
Megumi feels you tense up, and then you’re twitching, crying into him as you come undone all over his fingers, earning a groan from him. He works you through it, lets you have your fun before your vision is blurring and you’re half heartedly pushing his hand away.
You fall limp beneath him and watch him with a hazy mind as he brings his fingers up to his lips, lapping at them, sucking them clean.
You turn your head to the side, suddenly feeling shy. He smiles down at you, “Don’t try to be modest, now.”
It makes you laugh weakly, makes you swat at his chest so softly that it feels like a mere tap. He dips back down to pepper the junction of your neck and shoulder in kisses, occasionally licking and biting, hoping little bruises bloom across your skin.
The both of you freeze when you feel something hard poke at the inside of your thigh.
Megumi groans, and you know he’s embarrassed. He buries his face into the side of your neck, hand slipping beneath your shirt to massage at your waist.
You want him now, fast, before the two of you call it a night, and you want to call out for him.
But you can’t just say Dog Boy, please fuck me.
It makes you wince at yourself, but you’re too shy to ask for his name now.
“Baby,” You finally breathe out, your hand running up and down his arm.
He hums contentedly into your neck.
“Need you,” You start quietly, taking his hand in yours and guiding it to your heat. “Need you inside me.” You swear you hear him groan a low Fuck right into your skin.
He heaves himself up, eyes glossed over with lust and a glint of something that makes your heart skip a few beats, but you don’t want to jump the gun with that just yet. You can only hope that he sees the same thing in your eyes, too.
Megumi sloppily works on undoing his pants, heaving a content sigh when you rushedly swat his hands away and take the task into your own hands.
He stuffs his pants past his knees, frantically trying to kick them off his legs as fast as he can.
You nearly whine at the sight of him, like this, all for you, in front of you.
He moves down to kiss you, pushing you back down to the seat, making sure you were lying comfortably. He takes his cock into his hand, smoothing it over your wet folds back and forth to prep himself.
You’re panting, lifting your hips, urging him on.
He finally aligns himself with your slit, but pauses for a second.
“Megumi.”
“H-Huh?”
“My name’s Megumi,” He suddenly confesses as he pushes his tip in slowly.
You think you carry the universe in your chest. It feels like it’s expanding, endlessly, painfully- a delicious type of pain. You’re too caught up in the newfound intimacy of learning his name that your jaw goes slack as soon as you feel him bottom out within you, breaking you from your trance.
You feel so full.
“Megumi,” You cry unabashedly, moving your hips, encouraging him to move.
He groans, big hands planting themselves on your hips as he begins with slow thrusts, drawing out the feeling. He hits all the right places, but the pace he’s going at is devastating.
You’re whining, begging, babbling out for him to go faster, to fuck me, please, please Megumi, and the sound of your pretty voice crying out his name is enough to drive him insane.
He loves torturing you, really. Loves the way you cry for him, the way you clench around him, the way your voice shakes.
Megumi sets a fast pace, rutting into you like you’re the outlet for all his pent-up feelings. You’re squealing, and when the tip of his cock hits the spot that sends you around the world and back, you feel tears blur your vision.
“Feels s-so good, Megumi,” You chatter dumbly, too lost in the feeling and the sounds he’s making.
“Yeah?” He strains, grip tightening on your hips. “Look so pretty like this, baby. So fucking- oh, god- pretty.”
He enunciates his statement with a particularly hard thrust that has your toes curling, your hands tight on his biceps before he moves to fold you in half, squeezing you into a mating press as best as he can. His eyes zero in on where the two of you meet as he tries to etch the sight into his memory.
“Megumi,” You cry weakly, “So much, so so good, so- ah!”
You can’t even form a single coherent sentence, and he thinks you’re so adorable. He watches as fresh tears cascade down the path of dried ones, and it only spurs him further. The two of you are so pathetically desperate to reach your orgasms, you don’t even mind when his thrusts become sloppy and off-kilter, when he starts groaning and even lets out the prettiest of sounds when you flutter around him.
You manage to collect yourself for just a second.
“Please fill me up,” You beg, nodding dumbly to egg him on. “Wanna- wanna feel you cum inside me, wanna- oh, fuck, fuck, baby, please-”
He knows it’s probably not the smartest idea, but he’s too caught up in chasing his pleasure, and your little begs and mewls make his movements stutter before he finally stills inside you, pressing your thighs to your chest to steady himself.
“Take it, baby. Fucking- god- take it.”
“Mhm,” You nod frantically, static invading your vision, “Make me yours, please, make me- I’m, oh, I’m yours,” You’re running your mouth nonsensically, and the feeling of his seed spilling inside of you is enough to push you past the edge until you’re crying and shaking beneath him.
He wants to hear you say it for forever, telling him that you’re his.
He leans in to kiss your forehead, “Say it again.”
You think you could pass out, chest still heaving up and down as you come back down from your high, but you would do anything to please him. “‘M yours.”
Megumi smiles to himself before he pulls out, the sensation pulling a hiss from you as he lets you relax your legs and tries to clean the both of you to the best of his ability, considering the circumstances.
He helps you slide your panties back on, maneuvers your legs for you so that you can tug on your pants, worried that you’ll get cold fast.
You let him take charge, too exhausted to even move. Megumi splays across the seat and pulls you into his chest, trying to pull his jacket over the two of you like a blanket.
“Megumi,” You say sleepily, cheek smushed against the spot where his heart beats. He hums, encouraging you to go on.
“My name,” You start, “My name is (Y/N).” And, before you let him speak, you turn your head to look up at him with a cheeky little smile. “Does this make us friends, now?”
He laughs. It’s your favorite sound.
“I hope we can be more than friends.”
You hum affirmatively and kiss his earlobe before nestling against him, falling asleep.
The days are filled with love and gestures of affection after that night. Megumi is more comfortable now, though sometimes he pinches your side gently whenever you slip up and accidentally call him Dog Boy. He tells you that he demands reparations for your wrongdoings- he specifies that he would like to be paid back in kisses.
Whenever you call him a sap, he pinches your side again.
Although the two of you seem to be in your own little world, lost in love, the outer world has not changed. You add another step to your nightly routine, right before you go to sleep; Check the radio.
Megumi leaves it propped on the dashboard at all times and frequently asks you to try and catch a signal so that the two of you can hear some news. Day after day, you find yourselves unlucky. You’re always greeted by the same crackle and fuzz.
He’s been thinking hard lately, and you can see it. He’s always a little distracted, late to respond to you, or sometimes not even listening altogether.
He’s thinking that at this rate, it may be smarter to settle down. To find somewhere to stay, to wait out the situation. Surely, with time, the zombies should die out. This cannot last forever.
And while you’re splitting the food or reading outdated magazines that he grabbed for you at the store, he’s facing his own little mental battles. He knows that you dream of a better future, with people coming together and starting anew. And he knows that you’re becoming even more hopeful now that you’ve reached North and the camp should be within your sights at any time, but the journey itself is not promising. It’s colder, storms more often, the truck shakes and does not shield you from the cold all that well when the two of you are asleep. Megumi is nearly positive that the best idea, for now, is to settle down somewhere and to at least let the season pass.
He’s promised himself that he’ll bring it up to you on this particular morning, as the snow kisses the windows and fights against the weak attempts of the windshield wipers. You’re rummaging through a magazine, reading it over for the nth time and trying to fill out one of the crossword puzzles you had previously left empty for times like this.
“(Y/N),” He starts, mouth dry as he glances at you before looking back at the road.
“Hm?”
“I’ve been thinking, recently…”
As he pauses to collect what he wants to say, you giggle to yourself. “I know. You always look kind of constipated, you know? You’re not very good at hiding it, Megs.”
His face flushes red, and the both of you know it’s not from the cold. He appreciates that you’re not upset that he’s been keeping things to himself as of late, but he thinks he could’ve gone without the playful comment.
“Anyway,” He stresses, though he doesn’t feel so panicky anymore. He strictly keeps his eyes trained in front of him, on the road, following the short, yellow lines that divide it down the middle.
“I think… think we should settle down. The winter is only going to get harsher, and this truck is so old, I’m not sure how long it’ll last. We can find some place to stay- there’s empty houses everywhere- and we can sit out until the season is over. It’ll be safer that way.”
His proposition hangs in the air. You’re awfully quiet, and for a second he wonders if you were even listening.
“Megumi- pull over.”
“Huh? What?”
“Just- just stop the truck.”
He thinks you’re angry, but you don’t sound it. He rushedly puts the truck into park and tries to catch a glimpse of your face, to see how you feel.
You look focused. You don’t even bother to look at him; you’re looking past him.
He confirms that you probably weren’t even listening to what he said when you ask, “Do you see that? Over there?”
“See what?”
“That… that big white thing, like… look.” You point your finger in the general direction of what you see.
“(Y/N), everything’s white- it’s snowing-”
You hush him, “No, no. It’s huge...it’s..”
You don’t finish. You’re tired of squinting to try and make out the shape of what you see, so you haul the truck door open and spill out of it clumsily, the snow catching you. Fear, hope, adrenaline, excitement; it swallows you whole and you think you could throw up. You trudge towards the front of the truck, snow pulling on your boots like it’s begging you to stay.
Megumi follows after you, worried as to why you’re frozen in place, pushing past the clingy snow. Your name catches in his throat before he gets to call out to you. He finally sees what you see, just a few yards away.
Children. Young, healthy looking children. They’re running around, squealing and throwing snow at each other, little hands covered in gloves and big, puffy jackets slowing down their movements. He sees people calling out to them, ushering them inside big tents- tents.
They’re caked with snow, but positively scattered all over the place. He sees people peeking out, zipping them up, running straight out of them to dive into inches of fresh snow.
You’re rushing back to the truck, feeling weightless as you snag your backpack from the passenger seat and haul it with you as you try to run past Megumi, towards the people.
“Hurry, Megumi!” You call, a smile so evident in your voice.
“I have to show them my calendar!”
#megumi x reader#fushiguro megumi x reader#fushiguro x reader#jjk x reader#megumi fluff#megumi smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk smut
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Saw someone mention how Steve tends to get defensive when he's anxious and it stuck with me, so here's my take on the "Steve breaks a dish and has a panic attack about it" trope
cw: descriptions of nonstandard panic attack, implied/referenced child abuse
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The distinct sound of shattering porcelain is followed by a vehemently hissed, “shit,” and then silence.
“Steve?” Eddie calls from the couch into the kitchen. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Steve calls back, but his voice sounds tight in the way it does when something definitely isn’t okay.
Eddie pushes himself up and moves to the doorway, looking in to see what the trouble is. The kitchen of the house he and Wayne had been “gifted” by the government isn’t exactly huge, and he has a straight line of sight to where Steve is standing by the sink, eyes squeezed shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose, and to the red and white shards of porcelain on the floor by his feet.
“Hey,” Eddie says, but Steve doesn’t look up; if anything, his posture only gets tenser. “You’re not cut or anything, are you?”
“No,” Steve says, and his tone is still a little off, but he doesn’t sound like he’s lying.
“What was that, anyway?” Eddie asks.
Finally, Steve takes a deep breath in and opens his eyes, looking down at the mess on the laminate. “Mug.”
As soon as he says it, Eddie recognizes the colors for what the design must have been. “Shit, the Campbell’s one?”
Steve doesn’t say a word, just gives one sharp nod.
Eddie sucks a hiss of breath in through his teeth. “Shit,” he says again. “That was Wayne’s favorite.”
“I know,” Steve says tersely. “I’m sorry.”
His tone is definitely weird. “I mean, I’m sure it was an accident, Steve–” Eddie starts.
“I’m sorry,” Steve says again, almost snapping this time. “I’ll clean it up.”
“O-kay,” Eddie says slowly, watching as Steve jerks into motion and moves over to the corner where they stash the broom and dust pan.
“I’ll apologize to Wayne when he gets home,” Steve says as he starts sweeping up, even though Eddie hasn’t said a word.
“He gets home at, like, six in the morning.”
“I’ll make sure I’m up,” Steve says shortly.
“Steve, you can just tell him what happened later, he’s not going to stand around demanding an explanation. I mean, seriously, you think Wayne is gonna be pissed if you’re not there, immediately scraping at his feet when he comes through the door?” Eddie scoffs, but Steve remains silent. Eddie watches as he finishes sweeping in short, sharp motions, brows pulling together as Steve apparently fails to pick up on the joke. “…he won’t be, y’know.”
Steve shrugs. His expression has gone eerily blank, and he takes the dustpan over to the garbage can to dump it.
“Hey, don’t–” Eddie reaches out, and Steve jerks to a stop just in time. “You don’t have to toss it, man, we might be able to glue it back together.”
Steve sends Eddie a sharp look. “I’m not gonna be able to hide that it was broken, Eddie,” he says slowly, as though this should be painfully obvious.
“I’m not suggesting we hide it, I’m just saying we might still be able to use it,” Eddie answers in the same slow manner. “It’s not junk until you’re sure you can’t fix it.”
“Right,” Steve snaps, dropping the dustpan on the counter so sharply that the shards of porcelain clink against each other. “Can’t even clean up right.”
Eddie frowns, stirrings of defensiveness rising up in his gut at Steve’s continued sour mood. “I didn’t say that. I just said we might be able to fix it.”
“Fine. We’ll try to fix it,” Steve bites out, turning away from Eddie so he can put the broom back in the corner.
Eddie shakes his head, unwilling to engage with whatever snit Steve’s got himself worked into. “What happened, anyway?” he asks instead.
Apparently, this is the wrong tactic.
“What happened is, I’m too stupid to even do the dishes right,” Steve declares as he whirls back around. “Is that what you want to hear?”
“What?” Eddie is baffled, suddenly caught in the middle of an argument he hadn’t even realized was happening. “No! Why would I want to hear that?”
Steve throws his arms up, a demonstration of giving in. “Well I already said I’m sorry, and I am, and I don’t know what else you want from me!”
The heat of Eddie’s own temper is beginning to flare, but he does his best to shake it away because he still doesn’t know what the hell is going on and he doesn’t think getting angry will help. “I don’t want anything else from you! Why are you acting like I’m yelling at you? I’m not, I’m not even upset about the stupid mug, so what the hell is your deal?”
He takes a couple of steps into the kitchen, reaching out for Steve, hoping just to touch some part of him. Physical contact has always been grounding, has always been a comfort for them both; it almost seems like they can communicate better if they can just be in contact somehow. Instead of reaching back, though, Steve tenses up; it’s not exactly a flinch, but it’s as if he’s bracing himself, as if he’s waiting for Eddie to–
Eddie takes in the painfully blank expression on Steve’s pale face, the way his chest is rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths that he can’t quite seem to control, the way he’s angled himself just slightly away from Eddie, and suddenly Eddie feels cold.
It’s as if he’s waiting for Eddie to hit him.
Eddie wonders how the hell he hadn’t realized he was walking through a minefield until he was already standing in the middle of it.
(It still takes him by surprise, sometimes, that Steve’s anxiety, his panic, tends to look more like anger. That he tends to lash out like a wounded animal when he feels backed into a corner, hurt too many times in moments of vulnerability to do otherwise.)
(It takes him by surprise, but he’s learning.)
“Steve,” Eddie says softly, dropping his hand slowly back to his side, “I’m not angry.”
Steve stares at him, almost confused, like Eddie’s not doing it right, like this isn’t what’s supposed to come next. Eddie sort of wants to break something (he thinks, briefly, that he’d like to start with the fingers on Mr. Harrington’s right hand, and then move on to his left).
“It’s just a mug, Steve, it’s okay. No one’s upset about it,” Eddie says. “I’m preemptively speaking for Wayne, because I know he’s not gonna be mad at you. Seriously, getting upset over a broken cup? Does that sound like something Wayne would do?”
Slowly, once he seems to realize that Eddie is waiting for an answer, Steve shakes his head.
“Does that sound like something I would do?” Eddie asks.
Steve shakes his head again, though he’s still watching Eddie with something approaching trepidation.
“I promise it’s fine. I’m not angry,” Eddie repeats, and chances a couple of steps closer to Steve.
Steve doesn’t react this time, no tensing, no flinching, no verbally lashing out, and so Eddie lifts a hand again, reaching slowly for Steve’s. Steve lets him.
When he gets his fingers wrapped around Steve’s own, Eddie can feel how cold they’ve gone, can feel the fine tremble of adrenaline working through them, and can’t quite choke down the noise of sympathy in his throat. He tugs on Steve’s hand.
“C’mere,” Eddie says, invites him by lifting his other arm, but leaves it up to Steve.
It only takes a moment for Steve to step in close, and when Eddie lets go of his hand to wrap his arms around Steve’s shoulders, Steve reciprocates by cinching his own arms tight around Eddie’s waist. He takes one sharp breath, and then another, and Eddie can hear the way they shake going in and out.
“There you go,” Eddie says quietly, rubbing Steve’s back.
“I just dropped it,” Steve says, his voice a little hoarse. “It was an accident.”
“I know it was,” Eddie assures him. “It’s okay.”
“It was an accident,” Steve says again, and Eddie wonders how often someone has believed him – how often he’d ever even been given a chance to explain.
“It was an accident,” Eddie agrees. “You’re okay, Steve.”
Steve lets out a little noise, like maybe he’s trying to laugh, but then he pulls in another shuddery breath and rests his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. “Okay.”
In a little bit, Eddie might lead Steve to sit down on the couch, or maybe just take them both up to bed, because fuck doing the dishes after this anyway; he’ll make sure to leave a note for Wayne about the mug (ask him not to bring it up until Steve does, to not even jokingly make a thing about it), but for now, he concentrates on holding Steve close.
He’ll stand with him as long as it takes for the shaking to stop, for his breathing to even out, for him to relax even just a little against Eddie, and he'll promise, as many times as Steve needs to hear it, that it’s okay. Things will be okay.
[Prompt: Embracing your partner]
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#eddiesteve#solar wrote#cw child abuse#referenced but does not take place in the fic#cw panic attack#even if it doesn't look like one at first#soft ending though as always I promise
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The Perfect Life || CL16 {7}
Summary: The first night at Charles’ house is almost ruined before it can even begin.
Warnings: angst, light smut
WC: 3.2k
F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven
Taglist: RETIRED Head over to my dedicated library blog @dilemmaslibrary and opt to get notifications from there.
The paper bag in your hands crinkled as you opened it to see what Charles had asked you to carry. “What is this?”
“Dinner.”
You raised a brow and closed it back up. “Those are ingredients,” you corrected, placing it on the kitchen bench in his apartment. “I hope you aren’t expecting me to cook because you will be bitterly disappointed.”
He laughed as he closed the front door and kicked his shoes off. “It’s all prepared, the pasta just needs boiling but I can do that. Why don’t you take a look around?”
You already planned on being nosey when he wasn’t looking but now you could openly snoop and happily left him to his own devices. Like most apartments in Monaco, it was smaller than you were used to but it was more than enough for a man living on his own.
You circled the living room and tried not to be envious of all the photos he had hung in frames around the room. Faces you recognised held carefree smiles that they never had in your presence and Charles was no exception. You thought you had seen his real smile but even that was strained compared to what was captured when he was with his friends and family.
“I’m starting to think that frown is just your resting face,” Charles commented as he stepped out of the galley kitchen to see your progress.
You schooled your face until the lines evened out and a mild look of boredom hid your thoughts as you turned away from the photos and found something that made your heart nearly stop. The manuscript was plain and unassuming on the shelf, the title print small and barely legible on the bare sewn spine, but you knew that book.
“You stole it.”
Charles’ confused gaze followed you to the bookshelf. “What?”
“It wasn’t enough to take him from me but you took our book too,” you muttered as you tugged it from the shelf and ran your fingers across the faded purple inscription in the corner: For Jules. A hint of the berry scented ink still clung to the page and you swallowed the lump in your throat as you opened it to the dog eared page you left behind.
“This was a mistake,” you said as you closed the book and shoved it back on the shelf. If it wasn’t this, it would just be something else- there was too much history to think this could ever work. “I can’t do this, Charles.”
He intercepted your exit, blocking the door with pleading eyes. “Wait, please. I didn’t know it was yours. You can have it back.”
“I don’t want it back! I want to finish reading it to him but I’ll never get that chance because of you.” You took a step closer, ready to go through him to get out the door but he surprised you by sliding down the white panel until his ass planted on the floor. Charles pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them as he looked down to hide in shame.
The moment of silence dragged on as his breath grew as ragged as yours and you both relived that day in the hospital.
“I’m sorry,” he stressed as he threw his head back, the thud heavy against the wood. “I’m fucking sorry! For all of it. I didn’t deserve the time I got with him, I don’t deserve this career - it should have been his, like you. I definitely don’t deserve you.”
You slumped to the floor too with your back to the kitchen cabinets. This was not how you imagined your evening going. The plan had been simple; stay the night with Charles and arrive at the paddock for his first practice together - hard launching the relationship and confirming all the rumours that you had both started.
“When did this become your pity party?” you asked as you studied the herringbone tile floor instead of the enigma sitting opposite you.
Charles’ jaw dropped and he shook his head as he stammered over his words. “It’s not…I’m not…that’s not what…”
“How do you make it through interviews? One question and you’re a blithering mess.” You rolled your eyes and stretched your leg out to nudge his foot. “You are wrong by the way. I wasn’t meant to be Jules’ either.”
“I know.” He nodded and sighed, wiping his nose that had turned pink. “It probably doesn’t change anything but I finished it. I read him that book before he…before he died.”
You pushed yourself up to your feet and offered him your hand. His palm was clammy against your skin and you barely made any effort to pull him up as he did the work himself, rising to his full height in front of you. “You’re right, it doesn’t change anything,” you admitted, watching his shoulders deflate.
“Figured as much.”
“But,” you said as you held a finger up when he went to move away and he froze, “that was a proper apology that actually felt real.”
“So you forgive me?”
“No, I don’t even know how to do that, but I’m not going to leave.”
He smiled like it was a small victory and enveloped you in one of his spontaneous hugs that you were slowly growing used to. “I don’t know how, but I am going to make it up to you one day. I promise.”
“How about you start with just making dinner?” You stepped out of his embrace and looked around the room with weary eyes. “I’m not going to find any more surprises, am I?”
He chewed his lip as he thought for a moment. “I have his helmet in my office but the door is closed.”
You swallowed deeply and nodded. You were going to avoid that room at all costs. “Keep it that way.”
Panic gripped you as the bike started to wobble. Your feet tangled in the pedals and your fingers slipped from the brakes before the gravel driveway rapidly came up to meet you. The skin on your knees stung with the dozens of little stones that grazed them and your elbows were in a similar state as you lay sprawled beneath the summer sun.
“Up you get,” Jules said as he dusted the stones off and picked you up.
Your bottom lip began to tremble and he shook his head. “There’s no use crying, lapinette, might as well laugh and learn.”
“I don’t want to laugh,” you grumbled, kicking the bike to emphasise your displeasure.
Jules shrugged and picked the bike up, holding it out for you to try once more. “Well, that’s usually when you need to the most.”
You accepted the bike and looked longingly at the trainer wheels he had taken off. The plastic wheels were beside his kart that was propped up on a stand, some of the parts in pieces for him to finish cleaning before he rebuilt it for the race. “Do you think you can win?”
“Absolutely, just like I know you can ride that bike.”
“I fell off.”
He laughed at your attitude and knew you would be a handful when you grew up. Pointing to the driveway he said, “Then you better try again, no? Because if you don’t ride it then I can’t win!”
You laughed at the stupidity of the statement but rose to the challenge, throwing a leg over the pastel pink bike and ringing the little bell on the handle for good luck. “You better win, Jules.”
You took a deep breath and pushed the pedal down, slowly building momentum. The wind blew your hair back and you laughed as you realised you were doing it. You were biking…straight towards the wrought iron gates.
You jolted awake in the unfamiliar bedroom and found Charles sleeping soundly. Though you had woken before the impact came you knew Jules had saved you. The lanky teen had sprinted after the bike and grabbed you from the seat before it careened into the metal, buckling the front wheel. You hadn’t quite mastered bike riding that week but Jules still won his karting race.
Sleep was as distant as the memory that had resurfaced so you quietly slipped from the room and found yourself at the bookshelf. Sometimes you wished you had no memory, then you couldn’t be reminded of how happy you had been. But, on the flipside, if you didn’t have the memory you feared you would never know what happiness was at all.
When Charles woke to an empty bed he wondered if you had left after all despite watching you fall asleep beside him. It was only the sound of the balcony door sliding open that let him breathe a sigh of relief and he climbed out of the bed to check on you. A cool breeze left a chill in the air of the living room and Charles grabbed the blanket that hung from the back of the sofa before he stepped outside.
“You’ll catch a cold like that,” he whispered to the night. The Ferrari shirt you wore fell halfway down your thighs but curled up on the outdoor settee had the red material barely covering your underwear and Charles covered the bare skin with the blanket.
“Bad dream?” he asked as he took a seat beside you and noticed the book in your hands.
“Worse,” you replied. “A good memory.”
Charles draped his arm over the back of your seat, his fingers softly touching your shoulder, and he tucked his legs under the blanket too. “Want to talk about it?”
You gave him a look that made him chuckle before turning your attention back to the page. You were halfway through the story and you could finally appreciate the action thriller now that you understood the vengeance Jack Reacher felt and the way he fought but even that wasn’t enough to distract you from the dream. With an irritated sign, you closed the book and took to searching the stars instead.
“Charles?” He hummed quietly and you looked across to see his relaxed state watching the dark sky too. “If I ask you something, can you just do it without reading too much into it?”
He tore his eyes away from the brightest star in the sky and frowned. “Uh, I guess it depends on what you ask me.”
“I want you to kiss me.”
His lips curled up in a slow smile and his fingers danced across your collar to the base of your throat as he leaned in. “You don’t have to ask me.”
“It’s not because I like you, I just need something to stop me thinking,” you clarified.
“Again, you don’t have to ask me.” His lips brushed against yours before they teased your jawline and his breath warmed your ear. “You can use me however you want.”
It was already a messy situation and adding sex to the mix was only going to end badly but you needed it. You needed to forget the thoughts racing through your head and you needed the high of an orgasm. Charles was more than willing to give you both when he carried you back to his bed.
The next time you woke you were in a far better headspace.
You felt the ghost of a kiss on your cheek before Charles left to get ready for the day but you buried your head deeper in the pillow and tried to ignore the sweet ache in your body. It was impossible. Your core throbbed with the memory of how he had filled it and your thighs pressed together in search of friction only to feel the beard burn he had left between them.
“Fuck,” you groaned as you realised you would not be getting back to sleep.
“Regretting your life choices?” Charles asked from the doorway, two mugs of coffee in his hands and not a lick of clothing to be seen.
“On the list of my regrets, this doesn’t even register,” you said as you sat up and accepted the hot cup, your state of undress not much better. “But it would have been easier if you sucked in bed.”
“How’s that?” He lifted his pillow up against the headboard and took a seat with an amused grin at the compliment.
“For starters, I wouldn’t want to do it again. Things are already complicated enough and now I have technically been fucked by my boss.”
“If you want to get technical, you fucked me,” he pointed out with a smirk. “You were in control, babe.”
You took a deep breath and told yourself it was too early for violence, even if he was right. Charles had been quite clear on the fact you were in control, especially when he sat in much the same position against the headboard and let you ride him into oblivion. “Maybe it will make it on my list of regrets after all.”
“You can worry about them later,” he said after a few mouthfuls of his coffee. “We should start getting ready to head to the track and your hair screams ‘sex’. Bathroom is across the hall, there’s a new toothbrush in the top drawer if you need.”
“Wow, a spare toothbrush? That screams manwhore.”
“I’m just being a gentleman, you’re the one that swallowed.”
You nearly spilled the coffee with the laugh that bubbled out of your mouth unexpectedly. “Ah, there’s the regret. I knew I should have snowballed you.”
His nose wrinkled with the idea and you laughed darkly. Next time he would probably hesitate and remember this conversation. You froze. You were already thinking about the next time you would fuck and that was enough to stun you silent so you busied your mouth finishing the drink.
It was hard not to fall in love with the atmosphere of race week in Monaco. Arriving hand in hand with Charles had the desired effect and you were still feeling the ripples of it as the day ended.
“I’m exhausted and I didn’t even do anything,” you admitted through the headset as the private helicopter whisked you back to Nice.
Charles flexed his hand that had furiously signed autographs right up until the moment he stepped inside the helicopter. “It gets like that sometimes but I only feel it after everything goes quiet.”
“Are you sure you want to come to this dinner? You can go home and rest. Jacques can fly you back.”
Charles reached across the seat and took your hand even though there was no audience to witness the touch. “And leave you alone with your parents?” he chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s not going to happen.”
“I have managed to survive 25 years on my own.”
“That’s a miracle in itself. I probably wouldn’t be trusted with the steak knife if that was me.”
You grinned at the joke and rested your head on his shoulder. “I like this dark side of you.”
“I suppose that’s a start.”
Your good mood was brought down the moment you spotted the mansion before landing. Too many cars lined the driveway for the simple family dinner your mother planned and you fell quiet as the helicopter touched down in the backyard.
“What is this?” Charles asked, looking down at his casual jeans and sweatshirt.
“The tenth circle of hell,” you muttered.
Veronica was practically vibrating with excitement when you arrived at the patio door and she held out two tickets for the opera tomorrow night, as requested. “Silly girl. You have dinner with Prince Albert, you can’t even go.”
Charles knew better after seeing the many masks you had adorned to hide your thoughts but it still amazed him how quickly you could become a woman he didn’t recognise. A sneer grew, twisting your smile into a cruel mockery of the one he knew and your eyes narrowed as you swiped the tickets from her hand.
“Why didn’t you tell me that before?”
“I tried, but that’s what you get for being a spoiled little brat.”
“Alicia! My room, now!” Your voice carried through the mansion and you stormed up the stairs with Charles following behind, his cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment. The maid was already waiting outside your bedroom door when you arrived and you barrelled inside, slamming the door shut in Veronica’s smirking face.
The dress hanging in the closet was still wrapped in the garment bag and you took it off the hanger, holding it out to Alicia. “Get this dress out of my sight! I never want to see it again.”
Alicia looked a little shocked at the outburst you needed to be heard through the door. “But it is McQueen.”
“I don’t care!” You lowered your voice to a whisper and reached into your pocket. “Here’s two tickets to La Bohème, take the dress and go with Javier. You didn’t think I forgot your anniversary, did you? Go.”
Tears filled Alicia’s eyes and she threw her arms around you. “Thank you.”
You shook your head and sincerely said, “You deserve more than this.”
Alicia dipped at the waist and delicately hung the dress over her arm as she walked to the door. Veronica saw the tears in Alicia’s eyes and shook her head as the quiet maid rushed down the stairwell.
“Your father will hear about this tantrum.”
You tipped your nose up and crossed your arms smugly. “I’m his only child, that makes me his favourite by default. Now run along and tell him.”
Veronica turned on her heel with a scoff and you closed the door before sighing heavily. You would probably pay for the insolence in one way or another but it was worth it.
“Why did you do that?” Charles asked as he reached past your hip and locked the door.
“I couldn’t pay for the tickets myself and they already think the worst of me, might as well play the fool for a good cause.”
Charles opened his arms and you stepped into the embrace. He could see how draining the act was and couldn’t wait until the day you left Nice. “You’re a good person,” he said quietly before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
“I don’t think the guests downstairs would agree with you. I don’t even know why they are here.”
You found out soon enough when you emerged from your room dressed in more appropriate attire. Just as you suspected, it was punishment and you would play the fool once again for your mother’s entertainment. You felt sick seeing the grand piano in the dining hall and your fingers stiffened at the thought of sitting in front of the guests to play at her whim.
“Are you okay?” Charles asked as he saw your pallor fade.
Forcing the discontent away, you smiled in time for the first guest to spot your entrance into the room. “Just peachy, Charles. Ready to act lovesick?”
He didn’t need to act, and you found it all too easy that maybe it wasn’t acting either. Your body fit perfectly into the curve of his arm and you moved together through the room making introductions. But all too soon your mother dragged you away and snapped her finger at the piano.
“The Economy Minister favours Beethoven,” she whispered with a look to the man your father was for lack of a better word, schmoozing. “Don’t fuck this up.”
#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#Charles Leclerc smut#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#formula one imagine#formula 1 fanfic#formula one fanfiction
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Terms of Endearment
DESCRIPTION: You call them by a term of endearment without realising
WARNINGS: just fluff, mentions of alcohol in Luffy's
CHARACTERS: Ace, Sabo, Luffy | Law, Kid, Shanks, Marco, Zoro
WORDS: 1,933
A/N: The next part in this in honour of reaching 500 followers. Hope you all enjoy
*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*
MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST
———————
ACE
You knew nothing would ever happen between you and the Division Commander. You knew he was just a likeable guy who was friendly and warm with everyone. Countless times you told yourself that he was just nice with everyone and yet still you couldn’t help but feel your heart beat just a little faster when he smiled at you and you couldn’t stop yourself from liking him a little more each time he spoke with you and spent time with you outside of chores and tasks being done onboard the ship. It didn’t matter though, even with the knowledge nothing romantic would happen you were happy to be considered a close friend of Ace’s.
One morning you were perched on the edge of the ship’s railing and keeping a critical eye on the thick wall of cloud draped over the entirety of the sky above the next island you were approaching. It made a stark difference to the clear blue you and the rest of the crew were currently under. You were no stranger to the absurdity of the ever changing weather and separate climates certain islands had but seeing what you were going to be greeted with was starting to sour your mood. It wasn’t as fun stopping at an island if there was a storm to endure.
“Glaring at the clouds won’t make them change you know.” You looked over your shoulder to see Ace hop up onto the railing and sit down beside you. Glancing out of the corner of your eye you were jealous of how relaxed he was and let out a long sigh as you returned your stare to the clouds you could now see were darker than you had originally thought.
“Who knows, stranger things have happened on these seas.” You mused, scowling harder now that the idea was in your head. “Maybe I have the ability to control weather and neither of us knew it? Don’t know unless I try.”
From beside you Ace laughed, reclining back to support his body on his elbows and grinned up at you.
“If that were possible, that’d be a pretty dumb gift. Glaring at clouds to make them obey you? You’d get a headache all day.” You rolled your eyes and laughed, getting more comfortable too, lying down and tucking your arms behind your head.
“Look we can’t all be super amazing and control fire like some people, Ace.” You teased, a small yawn breaking from your lips as your eyes closed. You were still a ways away from the stormy island so you may as well make the most of the sunshine and warmth until then. “Some of us are just boring.”
“I definitely wouldn’t call you boring.” Ace told you. Safely in the knowledge that you couldn’t see him, he could observe you carefully with softened gaze. “You’re one of my favourite people to hang out with.”
“Aw thank you love, you always know just what to say.” Your relaxed smile brightened considerably but you were too drowsy to open your eyes again to look at the man beside you. It was also why you hadn’t realised your slip of the tongue. Ace however tensed and sat up a little straighter from his once relaxed position. His eyes were widened and a soft pink was dusting his freckled skin. All this time he’d thought his feelings were one-sided and now he was hit with the reality that it might not be the case. Overcome with a burst of excitement and hope he quickly lay back down and used his hat to hide his giddy expression and began to think about how to subtly broach the subject when you were awake.
SABO
“You’re not going to improve if you don’t keep your focus.” Hack lectured, swiftly knocking Sabo back with ease. Sabo managed to recover from the attack and retaliated with one of his own that was completely dodged to the point it made the attack look so pitiful. Hack paused in the sparring match to frown at the younger Revolutionary. “Seriously, what’s with you today? Do you need to take a break?” Quickly Sabo shook his head and forced himself to keep his attention on Hack but even then he couldn’t help but feel your presence silently calling to him.
You were oblivious to the power you had over the Chief of Staff, even from the very first day you joined the Revolutionary Army you’d somehow managed to make Sabo immediately endeared to you. Given Sabo’s personality he was able to pass off his momentary slips and lack of concentration when you were around and for the most part others hadn’t made the connection. Most being the word. People like Hack, Koala, and Dragon however knew. Normally Hack wouldn’t mind and ignore it but this was the third time in the short amount of time of the sparring match that he’d seen Sabo zone out and look your way as you were speaking with Dragon about a recent mission you’d been on. Enough was enough. After knocking Sabo onto his back, Hack turned and called you over. You finished your conversation with Dragon and approached the sparring pair with a soft, expectant smile while Sabo got to his feet. “I want you to spar Sabo with me. Perhaps having two opponents will help sharpen his dulled senses.”
You became concerned to hear Hack’s less than complimentary tone at the blond and you looked to Sabo with a light frown, scrutinising his features carefully. Could it be he was sick? Was something else be bothering him? It wasn't like the Chief of Staff to be so distracted especially when it came to his training. At the suggestion of you fighting along with Hack, Sabo’s expression became a mix of uncertainty and irritation. He didn’t want to spar against you but he couldn’t outright deny Hack requesting you join them given he had no real reason to oppose it. Sabo could only take a breath and adjust his stance while praying he didn’t make an embarrassment of himself.
At first having you as part of the fight helped Sabo when it came to focusing on the fight, by having two skilled fighters attacking he didn’t have the ability to pay attention to his personal feelings. However when he kept his sight on Hack as the priority he’d slipped up and forgotten you. You took the window of opportunity and ducked under Sabo’s arm, your face less than inch from his. Quickly you hooked her arm around his and tucked your foot around his ankle, twisting and knocking him to the ground. You kept a firm hold on Sabo’s wrist and pressed your knee into his back. “Give up sweetie?” you asked innocently, unable to see Sabo’s eyes widen. Before he could respond you were abruptly called for by another Revolutionary to go out on a mission. Pouting you released Sabo and left him and Hack.
“Please tell me I didn’t imagine that…” Sabo uttered, almost begging Hack. He looked up to see the Fishman grin at him and help him to his feet.
“No I heard it too. Funny thing is I don’t think they noticed they did it.” Sabo watched your retreating form and brightly smiled.
“Interesting.”
LUFFY
For the most part Luffy can be considered fairly clueless about a lot of things if they don’t involve his ambition to be King of the Pirates and obtaining the One Piece, doing whatever he wanted and eating all he wished. That included his own deeper feelings at times. However no matter how complex Luffy’s emotions were about certain things he found it easier to break them down into more simplistic views and gain a better understanding about them. He found he had to do that with you and the longer you were part of his crew the more he had to take an inward look at his feelings. So far he was able to discern that he liked you, he liked being around you and it was mutual because you’d been all too eager to join his crew. For the longest time it was simple as that.
Things however became complicated one night after he and the rest of the crew helped free another town from a corrupt ruler. As always the celebration was a large affair with plenty of food, music and drink. While Luffy wasn’t a drinker and happily indulged in all the food he could get his hands on, you were pulled into a drinking contest with some of the locals along with Nami, Zoro, Franky, and Usopp. You’d managed to hold your own for a respectable amount but when you felt the world being to tilt and your mind grow hazy you knew you wouldn’t be able to handle anymore.
Staggering from the table you somehow managed to wander to the only spot you knew you’d feel completely safe and content with. You didn’t know how you managed it, call it instinct or sheer will but you stopped beside your Captain and slid down to sit on the soft grass beside him, leaning against his back for support. Luffy looked over his shoulder to grin at you before continuing to eat. “You lost huh?” he laughed before taking a large bite of a meat skewer.
“It’s cheating when Zoro plays.” You grumbled, shifting to get more comfortable against your Captain. “He’s so smug too. Didn’t even wanna win anyway.” You fell into soft laughter with Luffy and then drifted into content silence. Subconsciously Luffy moved while he ate, seamlessly turning so you were leaning against his side and neither of you seemed to even notice the new position.
When morning came and you woke with a hangover and lack of memory you let out a worried groan, hoping that whatever you’d done wasn’t too embarrassing or at the very least you hoped that everyone else was also too drunk to remember too. Wincing you pushed yourself up to see that you were in your own bed. Hazily you tried to force your brain to work and managed to pull out the image of Luffy which made sense, he was your go-to for anything. Knowing he didn’t drink, you knew you could also rely on him for the truth on what you failed to remember. You found Luffy sitting on Sunny’s head just as you knew he’d be but you became worried to see him frowning, deep in thought. “Everything okay Luffy?” you asked, flinching when Luffy’s head swiftly snapped around to look at you intently.
“No! You’re not allowed to call me that.” Immediately worry and guilt took hold. What had you done? Would he ever forgive you? Oh no, what if it was so bad he’d kick you off of the ship for good.
“Wh-what do you mean?“ You asked panicked and feeling sick which was not from the hangover. “Whatever I’ve done I’m sorry but I don’t remember. Please tell me what I did wrong. I can fix it.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Luffy’s expression became confused. “I’ve just decided that you can’t call me Luffy anymore I like what you called me last night after I helped you to bed better.”
“Oh…” you couldn’t tell what you were feeling in that moment exactly. Desperately you tried to think what you called him, silently thankful that whatever it was hadn’t offended him. “Well if you want me to call you that instead you have to remind me.”
“You called me dear.” Luffy grinned while your face reddened.
#one piece#one piece imagines#one piece x reader#one piece x you#luffy x you#sabo x you#ace x you#one piece fic#one piece scenario#one piece fanfiction#luffy x reader#sabo x reader#ace x reader#monkey d luffy x you#monkey d luffy x reader#monkey d. luffy#one piece luffy#luffy#straw hat luffy#monkey d luffy#portgas d ace x reader#portgas d ace#fire fist ace#revolutionary sabo#one piece sabo#sabo
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enha hyung line as your stepdads 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡
pairing. stepdad!enhypen hyung line x fem!reader
— 𖦹 warnings. taboo relationship (stepcest), dubcon, cheating, degradation, sexting, some manipulation lol
authors note. this isn't for everyone lol so don't interact if you don't like it
(18+) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
୨୧ LEE HEESEUNG !
stepdad!heeseung is a sleaze but you can't resist his touch. you swat his hand away whenever he touches your thigh but you put his hand back after a few moments, you complain when he grabs your hips but you secretly love the way he holds you, and you squirm purposefully on his lap and hope that he pops a boner.
during one family movie night he lets you sit on his lap and puts a blanket over the both of you. your mom thinks nothing of it but heeseung's hands roam your legs and up your thigh. you clench because your pussy keeps throbbing and your stepdad feels it.
then he starts teasing your panties with his fingers. you shiver and look back at him. heeseung smirks at you and kisses your cheek sneakily. his hands slip into your panties and massage the skin and he holds your hips down when you squirm.
he tortures you for the rest of the movie with his teasing until your mom finally falls asleep on the couch.
"mom's asle-" you turn to tell your stepdad but he kisses you immediately. your lips lock and you moan into the deep passionate kiss as your tongues start dancing.
he pushes you down on the couch and sucks on your tongue as he presses his boner against your leg. you arch your back into him. you need more.
"be a good girl and be quiet for me. you can do that right?"
୨୧ JAY PARK !
you learn stepdad!jay is cheating on your mom. you can tell by the way he hides his phone whenever you or your mom come near him and how he sneaks out of the house at night. when you discover that he's gone on dates with several other women (never to the point of fucking them. jay won't do that!) you swear to take revenge on him. for your mom of course. you decide to catfish him on tinder as a harmless act of revenge... right? it can't go wrong as long as you know when to back away.
but when you start sexting back and forth with your stepdad... you start to get into it. you start to fuck yourself to his messages at night... and when you send back audio recordings of your moans, he sends you back pictures of his dick. impressive... and you daydream about choking on his cum.
one night he asks you to meet up and you're too horny to keep lying to him. jay is confused when you ask him to go to his daughter's room but he goes anyways and is surprised to see you sitting in your lingerie. at first he gets mad and whisper yells at you that your mom is sleeping upstairs. but he soon regains his senses when he sees you in the skimpy lingerie that he saw in plenty of your nudes. you watch him fight self control and lose.
"did all that just to get my attention you little slut? you can just ask me next time and i'll take good care of you."
minutes later the mattress is creaking and the bed frame is shaking from how hard jay fucks you.
୨୧ JAKE SIM !
"fuuuuck that's it princess," stepdad!jake holds your hips as you bounce up and down on his cock. "doing so well for daddy."
you were ashamed to admit that you fucked your stepdad on the regular. you weren't sure how it happened. one day you and jake were on your first family vacation together, and the next you two were sneaking away from your mom to make out in the hot tub.
now you both find any opportunity to jump each others bones. sometimes jake finds you in the shower or you ask him for "homework help" which leads to him eating you out under your desk. your favorite nights are when your mom works late and jake gets to fuck you in whichever corner of the house you want. your favorite is his bed with your mom because he gets a little more rough.
this time he brings you to a hotel room. he's on a "business trip" and you're at a "sleepover" but your mom doesn't know that jake just took you to some cheap motel to fuck you until you went dumb.
he's kissing up your neck and grabbing your tits while you cum around his cock. your moans are irresistable and jake cant get enough of you. then he's flipping you over and fucking into you harshly and the bed slaps against the wall.
"so good for me. so good for your daddy."
୨୧ PARK SUNGHOON !
it's your worst and favorite time of the semester. you failed a test! yeah your sad because you failed but the best part of failing a test means that stepdad!sunghoon fucks some sense into you.
he sees the exam scores when he picks you up from school and his eyes go dark and furious. for a second all he sees is red. you bite your lip scared and then see something shift in his eyes. he drives until he reaches an empty parking lot and parks by some trees.
then you move to the backseat like you always do and spread your legs for him to position himself over you. you know this is punishment... but you love it when your stepdad has his way with you.
soon he's fucking you with sharp movements and growling because he's pussy drunk off you. he wishes he can just fuck you all day instead of sneaking behind your mom's back but this will have to do.
"what's wrong with you pretty? too dumb to understand anything hm? can't get anything in that pretty brain of yours?" sunghoon taunts with a smile. his voice is harsh and he holds your head up by your hair. "can't even do some basic math... tsk tsk. how should i punsih you? should i fuck some sense into my babygirl? yeah? she wants me to punish her yeah?"
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How about JJK Men touching your weak spot, like on ur back or something in public and it makes you jump and them laugh.
IDK what ever you want to write but something like that.
TEHEHE YESSSS
Not edited btw :(
Weak spot
Including: Yuji and Yuta
Yuji
You were standing at the door to Yuji's dorm. He told you earlier that he would be 5 minutes late and that you could just head inside.
Was he sure, could you really just freely walk in? I mean what if he left stuff out that your not meant to see...or if he left his things out and forgot about it.
You reached out to turn the door knob before pushing the door open slowly. Everything was...normal. Clean, neat, nothing out of the ordinary actually. You walked in quietly, this place was to quiet to clean...there's got to be something he's hiding.
Well he is Yuji, he wouldn't hid anything...would he?
First you looked under the couch.
Then his desk draws.
And then in the book shelfs.
Nothing. Maybe you were just to caught up in trying to find anything interesting, in reality you knew there probably wasn't even anything there.
Finally you opened his bed room door and were about to peek under the bed when you felt something gently run down your spine making you jump slightly.
You heard Yuji's laugh "Your spine really is your weak spot"
You stood up and grabbed the pillow off of his bed and whacked him with it.
"YUJI YOU SCARED ME!"
"HEY! CALM DOWN" He said wrapping his arms around you, pushing you on his bed, his body on top.
"What were you looking for?" He asked
"Mmm nothing Yuji, I was just looking around. I guess I was right, you don't seem like a guy who hides things"
"I don't need to hide anything from you babe, I have nothing to hide" He said smiling while kicking his old Jenifer Lawrence poster under his bed.
(He forgot to throw it out before you got there)
Yuta
You were sent on a mission with your boyfriend, last one of the day. You were practically on edge after the past few nights with little to no sleep. Worked to the bone and tiered.
You and Yuta had pretty much finished the mission, but there were still traces of cursed energy so you both spilt up.
Man this sucks.
You swore as soon as this was over you were going to collapse into Yuta's arms and sleep all the way back home. But in the mean time you just had to hurry and finish this mission.
Walking down the hall way you heard something inside of a room, that was it, it was the last curse. It would be an easy kill, if only you could find the damn thing first.
You swung open the door and was hit with a wave of exhaustion hit you making your eye lids get heavier. Your vision blurred and your limbs became heavier.
"Not now" You mumbled to yourself seeing the curse move away in the corner of your sight.
You stumbled into the middle of the room and swung your arm aimlessly, managing to punch right through the curses body.
A sigh escaped your lips. Finally. Or so you thought until you felt overwhelming cursed energy behind you. Before you could turn around and react you felt a small poke on the small of your back making you jump and your knees go weak, body falling slowly backwards into something...you close your eyes to just accept your fate at this point only to be met with the sound of a light hearted chuckle.
"Y-Yuta, you rat. You know that's my weak spot" You mumbled looking up at him, seeing his smile.
"Sorry, sorry I couldn't help it." He lifted your body up bridal style and carried you out the building.
"Where's Ichi when you need him" Yuta said looking down to see you peacefully sleeping.
THANK YOU FOR READING ♡
AUTHOURS NOTE: So random but i'm dying with out requests, I only have two more to write and I've nearly finished them. PLEASE.
#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen megumi#yuji x reader#itadori x reader#okkotsu yuta#yuta x reader#jjk yuta#yuta fluff#yuji itadori x reader
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Greece - CC
Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader
Summary: You go on a holiday to Greece with CC and the girls - Based on THIS request
Warnings: none, just some fluff for ya
Word Count: 2.8k
Sweetbans Masterlist
AN: Hi all! Here is a cute one for you!
It was summer break and you and some of the girls from the team decided it would be super fun to go on a vacation somewhere. You all got together to choose where you wanted to go. Jada had the great idea to do that trend of everyone putting a place into a hat and each person would draw at random until there was only one left.
You and Cait had talked endlessly about where you two thought would be fun. Caitlin knew where she wanted to go and was incredibly hopeful about her choice. Meanwhile, you were naming off every place under the sun.
When you both got to Jada's apartment to figure out where you all were headed, Caitlin couldn't contain her excitement. There was a group of 8 of you going which meant that eight locations were going into a hat to be chosen from.
You all sat around her living room and took turns writing down where you wanted to go. You looked over at your girl and saw her writing 'Greece' on her piece of paper. You smile, thinking about all the times she has talked about vacationing off the coast of Santorini.
Caitlin had wanted to go to Greece ever since she was a little girl. There was something about it that just seemed so enticing to her. Ever since you started talking to Caitlin you heard her talking about wanting to go to Greece. Any time you talked about going somewhere together, it always came up in the conversation. It was quite cute.
She put her paper in the bowl on the table. You looked down at your piece of paper and pondered the list of places you were thinking about. Nothing seemed as great as seeing your girl live out the vacation of her dreams. So you secretly write down 'Greece' and place it in the bowl on the table.
After everyone sticks their paper in the bowl, you all take turns pulling out pieces seeing where you will not be going.
As the bowl goes around the room, you hear 'Spain', 'Australia', and 'Japan'. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Caitlin's knee bouncing with anticipation.
'Amsterdam' is read next followed by 'Canada' and 'Thailand'.
It was your turn to pick a place and you already knew how this was going to play out. You pull out a paper and look at it. Caitlin's eyes are intensely staring at you. You give her an apologetic look and show everyone the paper that reads 'Greece' in Caitlin's handwriting.
"Greece," you say as you lean over to kiss Caitlin's temple. Her disappointment doesn't hide well. She tries to compose herself because she is the one who is saying where they are going to be going on vacation.
Little does she know, that her disappointment isn't going to last long. You pass her the bowl knowing that the last piece of paper remaining is yours. And you know you would do anything to bring joy to Caitlin.
You rub her arm as she grabs the remaining piece of paper. You try to hide your smile but are failing. She grabs the piece of paper.
"We are going to..." she begins as she unfolds the paper. A scream escapes your girlfriend and she jumps up on the couch.
"WE ARE GOING TO GREECE!!!" She exclaims as she jumps on the couch like a little girl.
You are so caught up in how Caitlin is reacting that you don't hear that some of the girls are excited and the others say it's not fair that you two can vote the same.
Caitlin jumps into your arms, wrapping her legs around your waist and repeatedly mumbles thank you in your ear. This reaction alone was worth writing down Greece, you can't wait to see what being there with her will be like...
*2 months later*
The time has come and your girl's trip has arrived! Speaking of arrival, your plane just landed in Athens, and are now in a cab on your way to the Airbnb you rented.
Everyone is so excited to be there, especially Cait. It is all she has been able to talk about for the last two months - so much so that you have had to threaten her to get her to stop talking about it. Now that you are actually here, all the work put into planning this trip is paid off.
As the cab pulls up the Airbnb, you all take in how beautiful it is. You all decided to splurge and get a 5-bedroom villa that overlooked the city. It was unanimous when it came to finding a spot - since it was your big trip for the summer, it was worth every penny.
You all run into the villa and being freaking out over how stunning it is. Everyone running and excited about a different thing - Kylie ran to the balcony, Sydney ran to the infinity pool, Jada and Hannah ran to the bedroom with the biggest mirror (those girls and their Tiktok dances), Kate ran to the courtyard that housed a beautiful outdoor patio set, Gabby and Caitlin ran to the living room that was practically a movie theater and you of course ended up in the kitchen.
If there is one thing you love to do, it's cook. Making and serving food is your love language - at least how you express love. When looking at places you were 100% biased to this place because of the kitchen. It housed a beautiful island that had a 4-burner stovetop attached on top of the 6-burner over stove tucked along the wall. Two sinks - one of which was on the island for convenience. A walk-in pantry that was already stashed with all the spices and staples you could ever need. On top of it all, it had one of those foot vacuums where if you dropped anything on the floor, you could push it over to the opening and press a button for it to get sucked up, never to be seen or stepped on again.
As you are falling in love with the kitchen, you feel a pair of familiar arms come and wrap around your torso. Your arms come to rest on top of your girl as you lean back into her. Her head comes to rest on your shoulder and she squeezes you even more.
"I know we just got here but this is the best trip I have ever been on," she says as she turns you to face her. You rest your backside on the island and admire your beautiful girlfriend.
"I am glad you are happy with our choice of summer vacation," you say teasing her.
She pokes at your stomach, which results in a laugh from you.
"Ya, well, I have a pretty amazing girl who would do anything to make me happy," Caitlin says genuinely as she takes hold of your hand. You decide to poke at her some more.
"Well I don't know about anything to make you happy," you say, exaggerating the 'anything'. When she looks down at you, you give her a smile and a peck before grabbing your bags and heading to find the room you will be staying in with Cait.
"I already put my stuff in our room, let me show you where it is," she says as she leads you down a hallway that leads to a whole other wing of the villa. It is like its own separate house within the villa. When you arrive, you notice it is the only room on this side of the Airbnb.
"I chose this room intentionally," Caitlin says. "It is the only room on this side of the villa - completely separate from everyone else." She gives you a suggestive look as she begins to approach you. Right as you wrap your arms around your girlfriend's neck you hear the phone ring.
You both look to see a landline on the bedside table. You pick it up and say 'hello'.
"Hey! You two lovebirds need to come back to the main house - we are going out to explore," Gabby says and the other girls are yelling at you two to hurry up.
"Okay okay we are on our way," you say as you motion for Caitlin to change into lighter clothes. You hang up the phone and begin to change yourself.
Once again, you feel Caitlin's arms wrap around you.
"It's a good thing they won't be near us tonight - because I have some ideas on how I want to say thank you to you and I know you have trouble staying quiet," she says as she kisses your neck.
"Why don't we just stay here and start now," you say as your eyes close and your head leans back into her shoulder.
"As tempting as that sounds, we are burning daylight baby!" She says as she completely removes herself from you, earning a groan.
"Tease," you mumble as you finish changing out of your travel clothes.
The first few days are spent exploring Athens. Going to see different historic sites and museums. The place is beautiful and the food is delicious. Everyone is having the time of their lives, Caitlin especially as you all explore a new city.
The next morning you and a few girls head to a local market. You plan on making dinner that night for everyone. As you are walking around, you buy everything you will need and more. You are overwhelmed with everything they have and have an absolute blast. Jada and Kate are with you and get flowers and other small things that will liven up your stay.
When you get back, you start some of the prep while everyone else is lounging or doing their own thing. Caitlin is sitting on the counter watching you do your thing in the kitchen. Watching you cook is one of her favorite things. She could sit and watch you all day - it’s when you are in your element.
Every now and again you would bounce over to her to give her a little kiss or to squeeze between her legs to be held by her. Being held by your girl makes you melt every time.
Once everything is all done, Cait rounds the girls and everyone meets at the patio table. You come out bringing the last dish. Family dinners are where you feel most at home (the only exception being Cait). Everyone sits and feasts and life is good.
The next few days are for sightseeing. Everyone heads out to different museums and places that hold Greek culture. Some things are done together while others you all break off into small groups, you never leaving Caitlin’s side. It didn’t matter what you were doing, doing it with Caitlin was better than doing any of it without her.
You are all back at the Airbnb enjoying the amenities that are there. Everyone is out by the pool, some in it and some sitting next to it. You are reading a book when you feel a sudden cold reach your legs. You tilt your book to the side to see nothing out of the ordinary - no one is looking at you or acknowledging the fact you made any movement. Going back to reading, you pass it off as a phantom splash until it happens again.
You immediately sit up and look around to find Caitlin in the pool trying to conceal a giggle. A smile forms as you get up from your chair and make your way to sit next to where she is. You sit poolside and dangle your feet in the water.
“Why don’t you come all the way in,” Caitlin says. “We can race!” It was cute how she was playing in the pool like a little kid. Seeing her here in Greece has you believing that this trip is healing a part of her inner child and it makes your heart swell.
“Maybe in a little babe, I’m about to go in to make everyone lunch,” you say reaching over to take some of her wet hair into your hand and combing your fingers through it.
She moves to position herself in between your thighs, leaning her arms on them, and looks up at you with puppy dog eyes. “Please please please,” she begs.
You lean down and kiss her on the top of her head.
“Maybe a little later love,” you tell her. “Actually you should probably get out of the pool and do some packing.” You tell her.
“Pack? Why? We have another 4 days here, I have plenty of time to pack babe,” she says, slightly offended you suggested leaving this wonderful place so soon.
“Not pack to go home, pack to go on a little adventure,” you say with a little smile. She immediately perks up.
“Wait, what?” She says as she tries to get your attention back. You were not leaning back and looking up at the sky. She starts tapping on your thigh and splashing you with water.
“Hey! Don’t splash, I need to make lunch,” you give her a look.
“What do you mean adventure?” She says. She is too cute.
“Well, I thought it would be fun if we broke away from the group for a couple days and headed over to Santorini,” you say with a smile.
“We’re going to Santorini???” She exclaims, jumping up and down in the pool.
“Ya babe, we weren’t going to come to Greece and not go to Santorini,” you say with a laugh.
She gets overly excited and grabs your arms, pulling you into the pool. She wraps herself around you as you instinctively wrap your arms around her. You try to act mad that you literally just told her you didn’t want to get wet because you were going to head in and make food but you can’t keep a straight face when you see how excited she is. There isn’t much you wouldn’t do for this girl.
“Ok now go pack. We leave tonight and you need to be ready,” you say and you pull yourself out of the pool and grab a towel.
You make everyone lunch and make sure Caitlin packs. Before you know it, the two of you are on a plane heading to the beautiful island of Santorini. The second you knew you were all going to Greece, you started booking this little side quest to Santorini. It was fun to be able to get some of the girls' help as you wanted to keep it secret from Cait until you were there. They helped get some details out of her about things she would want to see and do without it coming straight from you.
The two of you have a small little Airbnb that is right in the middle of the classic white hillside. As you are settling in, you tell Caitlin what your next few days look like. The hikes you have planned and the markets she has mentioned to Gabby. Places to eat and you even have a nice little boat ride planned. She is over the moon with all you have managed to plan without her knowing.
The two of you have the time of your lives exploring Santorini. This was literally her dream - to be here. And being here with you was the cherry on top. She has no idea how she could ever thank you for all of this.
It’s your last night in Santorini before you head back to be with the group. You have planned a nice little candlelight dinner overlooking the coast. As the two of you sit there and just take in each other’s presence and the scene around you, you take hold of her hand.
“I hope this has been everything you dreamed it to be,” you say to her as you grab your glass of wine. She gives your hand a squeeze and just looks at you.
“What?” You say beginning to squirm under her eyes.
“You are the most beautiful human being I know,” she begins. “Not just physically, but your heart is so big and full of love for others and the world. I truly cannot believe you have chosen me to love. You are the best thing that has happened to me and I am the luckiest girl in the world to call you mine.” As she finishes, there is a little twinkle in her eye from the moon hitting the tears that have begun to form.
You don’t say anything. Nothing you say could even begin to describe your love for the girl sitting in front of you. So instead you stand, her hand still in hers. You guide her to a little spot near the edge of the patio where you were having dinner and pull her close to you. Your hand free hand coming to her waist, hers coming to your shoulder. You begin to slowly dance in the moonlight, soaking up this moment.
A moment you would never dream of forgetting.
AN: This was a fun one to write! I hope you all enjoyed it. Please let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍
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Hey and how about this... That Chūya gives the reader a blowjob for the first time while he praises him 😮
Hey…how about I steal your brain for that sweet idea. But sorry if it’s a little short
Dom!reader x sub!chuuya
Warning: blowjob, praise kink, i use dick, read it however you want
“Good boy,” you showed him an approving smirk, hands wandering down to caress his cheeks. His soft skin was heating up at your touch, eyes melting as a smitten expression spread across his features. Lips spread and tongue stuck out, licking your shaft carefully. With a gentle pinch, you brought him out of his trance, making him nudge his head a little. He furrowed his brows, still trying to pleasure you. Then you dismissed him and said, “that’s enough, time for something else.”
Once again his cheeks darkened, his eyes widened a little too. The hesitation was basically written all over his face as he wrapped his hands around your length, still deciding to give you kitten licks first. His wet muscle brushed around the tip, not sure if what he was doing was correct. Suddenly he turned his head to the side, covering his face with his hands and taking a moment to calm down. To think he’d be this embarrassed, how cute.
Your hand reached out for him for a second time, but this time you settled for his red locks. Fumbling with his hair as well as gently scraping his scalp. The gaze you wore was filled with patience and affection, whispering softly, “take your time, chuuya.” Now his heart won’t calm down, drumming inside him as if it was playing a special rhythm for you. After a while, he took your tip inside his mouth, wrapping those pretty lips around you. “Good job, use your tongue and avoid teeth, alright?”
He tried, he didn’t want to displease you. All he wanted was to make you feel good and proud. You watched his eyes start to get watery with every inch he takes, until his nose hit your pelvis. The sight was so beautiful, how the tears gathered at the corners of his eyes, how he looked up at you through strains of hair, and how good he looked choking on your cock. His cheeks tightened, and he sucked viciously, all while trying to use his tongue for anything good.
“Haha~” you laughed a little, at how hopeless pathetic but adorable he was. Chuuya was a little offended by that and started bobbing his head back and forth, slowly though to not gag. The hand in his hair was still stroking him, the look in your eyes unchanging as you looked down at him. God, he felt so small in this position, kneeling beneath you like this. While he lost himself in your eyes, he accidentally took your dick too fast and started coughing. The poor boy immediately tried to pulled back, but you stopped him, shushing him and saying, “shhh, try to calm your breathing. Just like that.. so good for me.”
It took a while, but he eventually came down. Now sobbing quietly as his hair stuck to his forehead. “Such a pretty boy, you did a good job for your first time, sweetie.” How he loved to hear your praise, that alone was enough to keep him motivated. Resuming to his previous movements, he continued to use his tongue to roll it around the tip. Drool hung out of his lips, a blissful expression on his face. The bulge in his own pants grew, and now the spot got darker, obviously wet now. You adored him so much, he was getting this aroused just by sucking you off? Too adorable. He looked so beautiful that you just had to praise him again, fawning over him as you said, “you look so stunning right now. Simply gorgeous.”
His entire body shuddered at your words, hands bawled into fists and knuckles turning white. A shiver ran down your spine when you saw his eyes rolling back and lips trembled around your dick. Shoulders were also raised to his ears, thighs clenched shut in a tight manner. Then, when he opened them again, you couldn’t hide the grin on your face. “Chuuya, you really just came now? Just how adorable do you want to be?”
@nvllxiety
#sub character#sub!character#dom reader#dom!reader#sub bsd#sub bungou stray dogs#sub chuuya#chuuyabsd#chuuya bungou stray dogs#chuuya bsd#chuya x reader#chuuya smut#chuuya x reader#bsd chuuya#bungou stray dogs chuuya#chuuya nakahara#chuuya x you#chuuya x y/n#chuya smut#bsd chuya#chuya nakahara#chuya x you
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Think I'm Gonna Call it Off
Description: You have been Prince Aemond's secret for years now, but a certain visiting Stark opens your eyes to what could be.
Inspired by the line “think I’m gonna call it off, even if you call it love, I just wanna love someone who calls me baby.” From Good Luck, Babe by Chappell Roan
This was ridiculous, you are a Lady of a fine house, virtuous, beautiful, intelligent, kind and your embroidery skills have been praised by Queen Alicent herself and yet here you sit waiting for Prince Aemond to return. To return and not spare you a single glance. Not until you are tucked away from the prying eyes of the court, until he is confident no one can hear your conversations.
You wonder if it is foolishness that keeps you sitting there, leaning against one of the many windows in the library, searching the skies for Vhagar’s great form set against the clouds.
You have rejected a number of suitors, worried your father and mother, made yourself seem all but undesirable in the eyes of the court, all because the prince swore that he would tell his mother. That he would announce to the whole of the realm that he loved you, and that you would be wed as soon as possible. He does not want a Valyrian wedding he said, he has no taste for it, he wants to honor you, honor his mother, and the Seven whom he worshiped.
“Lady y/n?” Lord Cregan Stark’s voice rolls through you like thunder, the deep baritone, the rouge northern brocade that made him pronounce your name just slightly different from everyone else, just enough that shamefully it makes you feel special.
You turn your head away from the towering window and give him a small smile. “Lord Stark, I did not expect to see you here.”
He returns your smile and leans against the wall; arms crossed over his chest.
Seven help you, he did have such strong looking arms, the sight of them never ceases to distract you. Even his thick tunic, and his dark-colored cloak could not hide them. Truly, everything about Lord Stark seemed strong. Queen Alicent said it is common of a Northmen, that they must be strong to survive the winters, while Lady Frey said it was the wolf’s blood in his veins. That all Starks had unnatural strength, speed, and stamina granted to them by the Old Gods. Neither woman’s explanation accounted for the man’s looks though.
Lord Stark is quite handsome, a strong jaw and sharp cheekbones with a close-cut beard, more stubble than a full beard though, and gray eyes like a winter storm. His dark hair is around Prince Aegon’s length, though often tied back and much better cared for. His lips are full and healed, having been cracked and dry from the drastic change in temperature on his trip down south. A small scar runs through the corner of them, on the right side, giving him a more roguish appearance. He said he had gotten it as a child, playing around with his father’s sword. And he was tall, so, so tall, towering over you in a way no man has before.
Then he laughs, the sound warming you to the bones, making a blush rise to your cheeks. “Do not tell me you think me a barbarian, as the others do. I thought you knew me better than that, little fox.”
The name he has graced you with never fails to make your heart stutter and disrupt any coherent thought you might have had. It is a reference to your house sigil, you know that. But the way he says it, how his accent wraps around each syllable, makes it seem far more…intimate than simply a friendly moniker given to you by a man who does not know your customs.
Aemond calls you his, or some sweet term of endearment in High Valyrian in private, sticking to Lady y/h/n in public. You wish he would use your name, you have told him time and time again, even the Queen and Princess Helaena use it. You have been at the Red Keep for nearly a decade now, been in the Princess’ inner circle of friends for almost as long, it would not seem strange to others.
“Lord Stark—”
“Cregan, or Lord Cregan if you must add the lord, as I have told you before.” He corrects you, but not unkindly, his lips curling up into a fondly exasperated smile.
“Lord Cregan, I did not mean to imply I believe that libraries were not your preferred place to spend your time, only that I thought you would be joining the other men on their hunt.”
He glances out the window towards the Kingswood. “And I would think you would be taking tea or sewing with the other ladies.”
You have been caught.
“Ah yes, well, as you know, Prince Aemond is to return today and Princess Helaena asked me to keep watch. She loves her brother very much but has to entertain the other ladies so could not watch for him herself.”
You pray Helaena will forgive you for involving her in a lie.
Cregan hums low in his throat and his eyes flicker to you, picking you apart. “Did she now?”
You nod, not trusting your own voice.
“The prince is lucky to have such a vision of beauty to return home to.” He says, running his eyes down your form, drinking in every detail with something akin to reverence? Though you know you must be seeing things. Cregan Stark would not look at you in such a way, there is no reason to.
“Princess Helaena is quite beautiful.” You agree, trying to keep an air of propriety around you even as your mind screams at you to flee for fear you will say something utterly stupid.
Cregan reaches out, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering for a moment caressing your cheek. “Aye, but she is not who I speak of.”
You? He means you?
You duck your head, cheeks warming once more. “You flatter me.”
He shifts forward, invading your space, the scent of forest air and woodsmoke filling your nostrils. “Is it flattery if it is true?” He is so close, still a respectable distance but close enough that you can reach out and touch him, can feel the warmth radiating from his skin.
“I believe that is a question for the maesters.” You tease lightly, your heart pounding in your chest.
“You are a smart girl, little fox, I am sure you can figure it out.” He teases back, a glimmer in his eyes that excites you.
No one teases you; no one jests or challenges you like Cregan does. You assume it is because they all know Prince Aemond has claim on you, or because you are a lady, but you are educated, and strong-willed, you enjoy a good challenge. You enjoy Cregan speaking to you like an equal.
“Truth is relative, as they say.” You offer, cocking your head innocently, barely able to keep a smile off your face.
“Aye, some say. Though your beauty is truth, relative or not. Surely you must know that.” He counters.
“Vanity is not a virtue.” You say, meeting his gaze. The storm gray of them has softened to a dove gray, mirth dancing within them.
“Neither is lying and yet…”
“Are you accusing me of lying, Lord Cregan?” You gasp in mock outrage.
“About knowing that your beauty is what every man dreams of returning home to? Yes.” He says, his tone light and blithe, but his words, and the way his eyes darken for a moment? It takes your breath away.
“Your beauty, little fox, is one that haunts men’s dreams, that keeps them fighting when they are the last standing. That they keep in their mind as they clash swords, traverse through snow and sea.” He continues, holding your gaze, voice no longer light, but heavy with intent and promise. “It is a beauty one wishes to see the moment they return home before all else, or any others. A beauty that should be admired in all lights and shadows. The setting of the sun and its rising, the summer days and winter nights, one to be cherished.”
You break away from his gaze, a twinge of sadness in your chest. Aemond has never spoken to you in such a way, he has waxed poetic about your beauty, flattered you, lavished you with sweet words, but it has never felt the same as Cregan’s did now. Guilt replaces the sadness, and you toy with the edge of your sleeves. You should not be engaging with Cregan in this way, it was not right, even if it made you feel…something. “You are too kind, My Lord.”
Cregan reaches for you, breaching what was proper, and taking your hand in his. They are so much larger than yours, so warm, so gentle. “Have I spoken out of turn?”
“No, no, I am just—I am a maiden of the South, Lord Stark, I am not used to such forwardness from a man I am not courting with.”
“Honesty, it is honesty, though I apologize for my forwardness.” Cregan says, subconsciously stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.
“Either way, I am not used to it.” You say heart calming with each stroke of his calloused thumb.
Cregan’s brows furrow. “I have heard tales of—the other noblemen, they speak highly of you. Of your beauty, your kindness, your wit, are they all struck dumb by your very being, is that why no one has praised you as you deserve?”
You feel you should say something about Aemond, but what could you truly say? There is no formal betrothal in place, he has not publicly staked his claim beyond a possessiveness that those who spent enough time in court could see. But nothing is ever outwardly stated.
You go to speak, but Cregan stops you. “My apologies, I should not have asked such a thing, how are you to know what lies within the minds of man?”
“You are correct, I do not know their minds.” You say instead and bury down any explanation involving Aemond and his invisible claim.
A dragon roar fills the air, the window vibrates with the force of the sound, and your eyes shoot back to the window. Prince Aemond is home.
“Or they fear the mind of one man and thus hold their tongues.” Cregan says, releasing your hand.
“The prince? I—he—we…it is not—” You cannot get the words out fast enough.
“I will take my leave.” He says, remaining for a moment searching your face until it seemed he had found what he is looking for, and left.
You watch him go, admiring the strength in his stride, when he turns back, a strange look in his eyes. “At the feast tonight, might I have a dance?” He asks.
“With me?” Your heart is pounding against your chest.
He nods.
Footsteps rush by the open library door, and you can hear Princess Helaena calling out to Prince Aemond.
You stand, smoothing out your skirts with shaky hands, why did he make you so nervous? Or is not nerves, but excitement? “Of course, Lord Cregan, I would be honored.”
“I will hold you to that.” Cregan smile, then he disappears down the hall, and you are left alone to hurry after the princess.
Aemond does not call for you until hours after he has returned. When you knock on the door to his chambers, dressed already for the feast, he bids you to enter in a soft voice, exhaustion tinging each word.
You hurry to his side, clasping one hand between your own. “My Prince, I cannot tell you how happy I am that you have returned safely.”
He uses his free hand to cup your cheek, that half smile, half smirk he wears so well on his well sculpted face. “I was only gone for a mere moon, and I was never in any danger, did you doubt your Prince, ñuha nūmio?”
“No, of course not, but…you would not tell me where you were going, no one would.” You say, looking up at him through your eyelashes.
“That is simply because it was not information you needed.” He says, brushing the pad of his thumb across your lips.
“But if I am to be your wife, would it not be prudent if I were to know where my husband is?”
Aemond’s eye, a brilliant amethyst, hardens, then he looks away and sighs. “Lady y/h/n I have told you patience is a virtue, and your virtue is what I adore most.”
You bite your lip, internally chastising yourself. You know better than to rush him. “My apologies.”
Aemond frees your bottom lip from between your teeth and brushes his lips across your forehead. “Do not take my words so harshly, your eagerness is quite endearing, and I to wish for us to be wed, but it is not yet time.”
You lean into his touch, “I understand.”
“How have you been amusing yourself while I was away, ñuha nūmio? Did anything exciting happen?” Aemond asks, his thumb resting beside the corner of your lip.
“Not much, it seems you had taken all the excitement with you. Though as you know Lord Stark’s arrival has caused quite a stir and now two moons later still is. Many ladies are jockeying for the position of Lady of the North.” You tell him, giggling at the memory of some of your friends’ actions.
“But not you?” Aemond asked, his tone making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
“No, I am yours, why would I wish to be Lady of the North?” You reassured him, brushing back a lock of silver hair from his face.
For a moment, you are struck with the feel of Cregan’s fingertips, rough and calloused but gentle against your skin. The warmth of his skin, the softness of his gaze, the earnestness of his words. What was he looking for when he stared into your eyes, when he took in every detail of your face?
“If you are too distracted, you may leave, My Lady.” Aemond says, the irritation in his voice drawing you from your thoughts.
“No, no, I am not, I am just so happy you have returned.”
Aemond hums in acknowledgement, dressed in his feast finery as well. “I have missed you.”
Your heart flutters. “I have missed you as well.”
He releases your chin to trail his fingers down the column of your neck. His cool touch causes goosebumps to follow in his wake, and he dips his head low to press his lips to your cheek, then begins to follow his fingers with his lips. “I have missed you, your voice, your smiles, your touch.”
You shiver in response, grabbing onto his doublet.
“Do not touch, you will wrinkle the fabric.” He warns, even as his hands grip your waist.
You remove your hands, clasping them behind your back.
“I will not be able to dance with you tonight, mother has brought another girl for me to try and charm.” He says, into your skin, his silver hair brushing against your exposed décolletage.
Your heart sinks. “Not even one dance?”
Aemond sighs and presses a final kiss to the hollow of your throat. “You know I detest it as much as you do, but it is my duty.”
You nod, blinking back the tears that threaten to appear on your waterline.
He smooths down your hair and turns you towards the door. “I will try to find time for one dance, but I cannot make any promises.”
His words lift your spirits, and you smile at him. “Thank you, Aemond.”
“Prince Aemond, we have guests tonight.” He reminds you, then he shuts the door, and you hurry back to your chambers.
The Great Hall is decorated beautifully, and you sit at your table with the other ladies of Helaena’s circle. A wine glass in hand as you watch Aemond dance with Cerelle Peake, her brown hair pinned up with a net of gold and sapphires, her umber gown flowing beautifully as she twirled.
“Come now, y/n, you will never be asked to dance with such a scowl.” Johanna Swyft says, poking your cheek goodnaturedly.
“No, she will never be asked to dance because the prince glares at anyone who tries.” Mina Redwyne says, clinking her glass against yours in silent sympathy.
Johanna shoots her a look. “Do keep your voice down, Mina.”
You take a long drink from your glass, emptying it, then setting it down, scanning the crowd for another servant. “Perhaps I do not wish to dance.”
“I am crushed to hear that Lady y/n.” Cregan’s presence makes every lady at your table sit up straight, and you turn to face him.
“Lord Stark.” You say, bowing your head in his direction.
He holds out a hand, and you remember how it nice felt, the phantom warmth still lingering. “I do believe you agreed to a dance, earlier today?”
“Lucky.” Mina hisses, as Johanna juts her elbow into your side to prod you up and out of your seat.
You stand, and take his hand, trying to ignore the twinge of pain in your side. “I did.”
Cregan leads you to the dance floor, and you can hear your friends giggling behind you, much to your utter embarrassment.
“Your friends seem quite encouraging.” Cregan says, barely holding back a laugh.
“When they learned I have no sisters, they decided that they would act as such, apparently that means acting in a most embarrassing way.” You say, falling into the rhythm of the dance.
“I knew you had brothers, but I did not know you were the only daughter, that must make you very precious in your father’s eyes.” Cregan ventures, his large, warm hand pressed to yours as you circle each other.
“I would like to think so.” You smile, your heart aches for a moment with homesickness. “He could not attend this feast, he is too ill to travel, my eldest brother is here on his behalf, accompanied by my second-eldest brother who is here to drink and presumably enjoy the Silk Streets.”
“I never had a taste for brothels.”
“Nor I.”
Cregan smiles and twirls you. “I thought not, for I have heard you are far too virtuous.”
You shrug. “It is more, I do not wish to spend the coin.”
Shock flashes across his face then he laughs, repeating your words quietly with a chuckle, and as you are spun back into his arms you cannot help but laugh as well.
“You are clever, little fox, I will miss you when I return home.” He says, his eyes searching you once more.
Your heart stops, and you trip over your feet. “You are leaving?”
His grip on you tightens as he helps you right yourself. “Aye, I have here for two moons, that is far too long, my people need me.”
You do not want him to leave, you will miss him dearly, his laugh, his expressions, his stories. You will miss the walks you had taken together, the discussions that ran late into the night, just outside your chambers, the men standing guard pretending they were not listening. The way he presented you with the pelts of animals he had hunted, regaling you with the tale of how he felled it. Who would challenge you now, who would make you laugh, would listen to your words, and respond as if you were an equal, as if your sex did not diminish your intelligence?
“When will you leave?” You ask, unable to keep your voice steady, so you spin away from him to give yourself a moment to smother your emotions.
Cregan pulls you back into his arms, trapping you with his steady gaze. “In a few days time.”
“Oh…” You manage to choke out, swallowing hard, your eyes on your feet.
“I have been meaning to tell you, there just never seemed to be a good time.” Cregan says sheepishly.
You nod, still staring at the floor. “Well, I will miss you.”
“I will miss you too, y/n,” he says softly, then he slips a finger under your chin and lifts it gently. “In all lights, in all seasons.”
Tears blur your vision, and you hastily blink them away, not even noticing he has said only your given name, no title attached. Cregan’s warm thumb catches any stray tears that fall, and you lean into his touch, desperate for more of that something he had made you feel before. That something you realize he was always making you feel, and that he is making you feel right now, though it is tinged with grief. “Cregan, I—”
“Lady y/h/n, I believe I promised you a dance.” Aemond’s voice is steel, ice, the frigid fear that ran through the veins of Vhagar’s victim, and you hurriedly wipe away any remaining tears plastering on a false smile, before you turn, Cregan’s other hand still on your waist.
You drop into a curtsy. “My Prince, that you did.”
Cregan’s hand lingers, and your heart lurches in your chest when the warmth of it is finally removed.
Another song has begun to play, one you love dancing with Aemond to. It allows for close movements and lingering touches that you always long for with him.
“I thought you did not wish to be the Lady of the North.” He says, his eyes picking you apart as Cregan’s did but there is a cold methodical feel to it that makes you feel utterly and horribly exposed.
“He was merely being kind, no one else had asked me to dance.” You protest, falling into the rhythm as you had before.
“No one else should, you are mine.” Aemond say, spinning you out, and then back in.
His hands burn through your gown, your skin, meeting bone, and before you would have loved it, relished the feeling, but now you feel they are too hot, your skin prickles uncomfortably.
“I like to dance; I do not get to dance when you are occupied, and you are often occupied.” You say quietly, your head bowed ever so slightly.
“I had them play your favorite song, as a reward for your patience.” He says, ignoring your words. “Do you like it?”
“I do, thank you.” You smile and raise your head, hoping to catch his eye and find it brimming with affection. That would soothe your wounded heart, would banish the grief you feel at Cregan leaving.
Instead, his eye is elsewhere, you follow its gaze to see it land on the Peake girl. You do not blame her, do not hate her, though your blood turns to fire in your veins, and you brace yourself for what you are going to say next.
“When are we going to be wed, I have been patient for many years, and you never tell me when my patience will be able to end.” You say, holding your chin high. You are not a Peake, but you still have pride.
His eye flicker back to you, his grip tightening. “Are you truly asking this now?”
“Yes. Yes, I am, because I am tired of waiting, tired of watching as you charm others, tired of being shunted to the side because even though you will not claim me, no one else is allowed to.” You can no longer keep your emotions contained. “I want to be happy Aemond, I want to be happy with you, but I am not happy.”
“Not everything is about your happiness, Lady y/h/n.” Aemond snaps.
You reel back as if you have been struck. “I did not say it was. You have been the one saying you wished to marry me, promising me you would tell the whole of the realm how deeply you care for me. I have done nothing else but dote on you and be patient.”
Guilt flashes across his face, and he reaches for you, but you push his hands away. “It is not so simple.”
“Do you see my face in your dreams, does it keep you fighting, keep you marching on, am I the first person you wish to see when you return home, do you wish to see me in all lights, in all seasons?” You throw Cregan’s words in Aemond’s face and wait for a response.
Aemond laughs, taking your hands, and bringing you back into the dance. “You have picked up a new book of poetry, I see.”
You cannot find it in yourself to be angry, the shock settling in, muffling everything until it is as if you are floating underwater. The rest of the night passes that way, you go through the motions, avoiding Cregan, your friends, shooting you concerned looks.
Then the feast ends, guards escort those too drunk to find their chambers, all others dispersing to their places for the night, or into Fleabottom for more revelry.
You try to sleep, but it will not come, Cregan and Aemond’s words echoing in your sleepless mind, until finally you throw off your blankets and wrap a robe around your nightshift.
You creep through the halls, no true direction in mind, letting your feet take you where they wished, when a flicker of umber catches your eye. Pressing yourself behind a pillar, you wait a moment then peek out.
“Lord Stark, might I be allowed to enter?” Cerelle Peake’s voice is soft, as was required for the late hours.
“Lady Peake, might I ask why you wish to enter my chambers?” Cregan asks, his words thick with sleep. His hair is loose, his night shift exposing his broad chest.
“I thought perhaps you might enjoy some company.” She says, as she takes a step towards him, moving to run a finger down his chest.
Cregan catches her hand and gently returns it to her side. “I do not wish for your company, Lady Peake. Please return to your chambers quietly, and I will not speak with your father about this.”
Cerelle scoffs and turns on her heel, storming down the hallway. You wait until Cregan’s door closed then follow her.
Halfway there, you know where she was going, you have walked these halls many times. Not wanting to further your own pain, you turn back to your own chambers, but your feet disobey you, and you find yourself in front of Cregan’s door.
You knock before you could stop yourself and the door swing open, a tired and angry Cregan standing before you. “Lady Peake, I do not need any comp—” His words die on his lips as he realizes it was you and not Cerelle. “Y/N?”
“All those things you said, about my beauty, about me, did you mean them? Truly?” Tears prick at the backs of your eyes, your chest tight, your bottom lip trembling.
Cregan rubs the sleep from his eyes. “Do not tell me you woke me only to hear more flattery.”
A sob escapes your lips. “I thought you said it was truth, not flattery.”
Cregan snaps awake, pulling you into his arms. “Little fox, I am sorry, I was half asleep, yes, yes, it is truth.”
You cling to him, gripping his night shirt, your face buried in his chest as you sob, every fear, every pain spilling out into his warm embrace. “Tell me you meant it, that you see me in your dreams, that you want me, in all lights, all seasons, that I am not destined to wait forever for someone to love me.”
“I love you, y/n, I love you, you do not need to wait, I will tell you as many times as you desire. I meant it, all of it, you haunt my dreams, you plague my waking thoughts, I want you in at any time, in any manner, or light, or moment I can have you.” He says, his voice is steady, and you can feel the vibrations of it deep in his chest, alongside the sound of his beating heart.
“I want to go with you to Winterfell, I want to be your Lady of the North, or even just your mistress if my house is not a good enough match, Cregan I do not care. I love you and all I care about is that we are not parted, that we are never parted, I do not think I will be able to breathe if we are parted.” You confess, looking up at him afraid to see what you saw in Aemond’s eye.
Cregan cups your face and kisses you, the taste of honeyed ale on his tongue, his hands warm as he keeps you close, using his foot to kick the door closed so he can press you against it.
Now in the safety of his chambers he breaks the kiss, your breaths intermingling. “You will not be a mistress, you will be my wife, none will come before you.”
“Will you tell your people, will they know?” You ask, your lips brushing against his with each word.
“I will wake the whole Red Keep to announce it now if you wish.” He says, his forehead resting against yours.
You reconnect your lips with his, his stubble brushing against your skin, but you pay it no mind, letting Cregan devour you, his hands moving into your hair, as you loop your arms around his neck, keeping him close.
He groans against you, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips, delving in when you part them and exploring every inch of you. “My little fox, my y/n, my wife, my beautiful, clever wife.” He presses the words into your skin, heated lips trailing down to your pulse point.
“Husband.” You sigh, tilting your neck further exposing yourself to him, his teeth sinking into the skin claiming you as his own.
“Say it again for me, my wife, tell me who I am.” He breaths, sucking, and nipping at your neck, returning to darken the marks between creating new ones.
“You, Cregan, my husband.” You say, eyes snapping open when he releases you and stalks over to the window.
He threw it open and stuck his head out, shouting. “Y/N Y/H/N, is to be my wife.”
You rush forward and pull him from the window with a scandalized giggle. “Cregan it is the middle of the night.”
“Then at the very least a few guards heard.” He says, pulling you close and kissing you again, in full view of the window, the moon, anyone else who might look up, and it is exactly as you want it.
HOTD taglist: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @svtansdaddyx, @fan-goddess, @dc-marvel-girl96, @shintax-error, @bellameshipper, @the141bandicoot, @the-phantom-of-arda, @haydee5010, @partypoison00, @serrhaewin, @issshhh, @pax-2735, @malfoytargaryen, @sahanna, @dellalyra, @mxrgodsstuff, @jkhomes, @unusual-raccoon, @boofy1998, @kravitzwhore, @caribbeangel, @krispold, @issshh, @afro-hispwriter, @ryswritingrecord, @prettykinkysoul, @elissanatok, @sahvlren, @its-sam-allgood, @happinessinthbeing, @8e-h-e8, @feyres-fireheart, @just-emmaaaa, @crazylokonugget, @hedahobbit98, @devils-blackrose, @mercedesdecorazon, @snh96, @imjustboredso, @izzicle, @hiatuswhore, @aslanvez, @devils-blackrose, @yentroucnagol, @queenofshinigamis, @partyposion00, @cryptidsrcool, @jennifer0305
#meg's writing#hotd#aemond targaryen x reader#cregan stark x reader#cregan stark x you#cregan stark x y/n#aemond x reader#this one is so long omg#it hurt me to write Aemond like this I love him so much#cregan stark
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Catstarion
Sorry for the slow uploads, been going out with friends and working for a bit but here's the next one, inspired by @bg-brainrot's post here. Thank you for the idea!
As you set your cup down, ready for another round of wine, you sense something, no, someone staring intently at you. Turning around, you find Astarion standing at the stairs leading up to the rooms, ruby red eyes piercing into your very soul as he stares, arms resting on the banister.
You’ve known him long enough to know what this means so with a sigh, you thank the bartender for his hospitality, excuse yourself from your increasingly drunk group of companions and head over to the stairs.
The vampire grins when he sees you approaching, gently pulling you to one side by your arm.
“Already turning in for the night, my sweet?” His fingers trail up your arm, lips whispering in your ear. The tips of your ears burn, feeling his words ghost over them.
“So it seems,” you reply. “Care to join me?”
The corners of his lips curve upwards, a sparkle in his eyes as he takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers and gently takes the lead, thumb running over the back of your palm. His wordless answer brings a small smile to your face and you let him guide you, annoyance left at the bar counter.
He turns the corner and opens the door to his room, ushering you in before closing the door behind him. He remains standing at the door as you make your way to the bed, getting comfortable before patting the spot next to you but he doesn’t move.
Raising an eyebrow, you tuck yourself under the covers before patting the pillow next to yours and yet he refuses to budge. Well, third time’s the charm, right? You open your arms and he immediately shoots over, burying himself in your embrace. Amused, you chuckle, which sends reverberations through him. He happily hums in response, shifting so that you have easy access to the entirety of his hair and grabs one of your hands, dropping it on the top his head.
“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten,” you snort as you begin to run your fingers through his soft white curls. He lets out a sigh of contentment, basking in the familiar rhythm of your fingers combing his locks, massaging his scalp along the way. The gentle movements start to lull him into a trance and he feels his eyes begin to close, his grip on your clothes loosening but then you do the unthinkable.
You shift.
Immediately his eyes snap open and he turns to glower up at you. You raise your hands in surrender, eyeing him warily as he scowls.
“My love, please do not interrupt my trance again.”
“Sorry, won’t happen again.”
“It better not.”
With a huff, he turns, stretching out across your legs like a cat before curling back up, feeling your fingers continue their movements through his hair. He loves it when you do this, when you let him trance whilst resting on you without making a single fuss even though you have little to no intention of going to sleep yourself. He loves how you don’t mind carving out time for him amidst your busy schedule, you could always ignore him until you were done drinking but you always responded to his call, putting aside your own needs and wants for him. He knew he could ask anything of you and you would do it, without crossing the boundaries the both of you had set at the start of your relationship of course.
To him, you always had something better to do than attend to his petty whining but to you, he always came first and he still couldn’t fathom why. Maybe one day he would, perhaps if he sat you down and talked to you about it, he would understand, but that would be after The Absolute was defeated and the worms were removed. He was becoming more positive about the party’s prospects in a fight against The Absolute, although he preferred hiding such feelings.
As your fingers continue to work their magic in his hair, his thoughts drift to the many ways you’ve upended his life. You’ve shown him what it means to love, what it means to be genuine, what it means to care about others. You’ve added to his life, and changed things that were already in his life. You’d made it your whole mission to help him associate actions that once caused him pain and misery with something more pleasant, the only reason why he could slip into a trance whilst you ran your fingers through his hair. Back then, such an action always came with —
Cough.
Astarion groans, reaching up to poke your cheek, “I’m trying to trance here, love. A little peace and quiet would be nice.”
“Sorry,” you pout, giving him the puppy dog eyes he can never resist and he lets the matter slide, returning back to his thoughts and attempt to trance.
You’re always careful to not pull his hair, with knots always being gently untied either with your fingers or a comb should one be nearby. You’re also the only one he trusts to take care of his hair, whether it be washing or helping to maintain it.
He feels you rest your free hand on his waist, the warmth from your palm spreading through his cold undead body and feels the urge to slip into a trance wash over him once more. Knowing he is safe in your arms, for nothing will be able to hurt him when you’re around, he lets the urge take hold, readying himself for whatever nightmares could plague his rest.
That is if you didn’t sneeze right there and then.
Astarion clicks his tongue, refusing to even open his eyes and exclaims, “Gods, how am I supposed to trance in these conditions?”
He buries his face into your thighs, putting up a dramatic show of angrily muttering under his breath while you apologise, struggling to hold in your laughter.
“Come on Astarion. If you want to trance properly, you should’ve just told me to go to sleep!”
“But then you wouldn’t be able to do…this!” He gestures vaguely in the direction of your hand which is still buried beneath his white curls, letting out yet another huff.
“You’ll have to choose one then, Star. I can’t seem to do both.” There’s mirth in your voice and for a moment Astarion wonders if you’re just toying with him but then the look in your eyes reassures him and he lets out a sigh of resignation, sitting up so that you can get into a comfortable position to sleep.
“Fine. Sleep next to me, my love.” He wraps you in a cocoon made from his arms, nuzzling into your neck and feels his fangs press against your skin — the only barrier between him and your blood. Yet you don’t flinch, trusting that he will only bite after asking you for permission and snuggle against him under the covers.
“Stop spending so much time with them,” you hear him mumble. So that was why he was acting so weirdly all night.
“You have me all to yourself every night, don’t you worry.” You press a peck to the top of his head, tucking him tighter against your body.
“And you’ll have me for all eternity too.”
#baldur's gate 3#bg3#astarion bg3#baldurs gate astarion#astarion romance#astarion x durge#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#astarion x you#astarion ancunin#tavstarion#durgestarion#bg3 fluff#bg3 fic
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a/n: taking a short break from requests to bring this here. I'll be back next week replying to whoever sent it, I'm really looking forward to it (seriously, don't kill me, I had some problems at work and ended up messing up my schedule).
Who breaks first?
F!Reader x Ace
warnings: smut, kinda of dom!F!reader e sub!, sweet boy Ace is begging for some laid here. Dirty talk, sorta of a pre-established relationship. Not proofread, may contain some errors.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | +18
"I can't wait until we find a good island, with good girls…" Thatch pointed out, downing the rest of the beer in his glass. "It's been decades."
"You mean days." Marcos corrected him.
"You men, can't you not think about it?" you pointed out, seeing them laugh. "What's the problem?"
"The person said that every other night he's waking up the entire ship." Izou leaned on you, in an almost theatrical way. "Oh Ace, don't stop. Please Ace, give me more." He tuned his voice in order to imitate you.
"That doesn't mean I only think about it." you pushed him away and on the other side of the table, you saw Ace laugh cynically. "And what's your problem?"
"Nothing, I mean, I'm not the one who seems to only think about it, or beg for it." upon seeing your sullen face, he pointed at his colleague. "I'm speaking based on what Izou said."
"I would stop the joke here, you could be entering dangerous waters." Marco warned him, but was completely ignored.
"I agree with the little bird." your challenging gaze turned to him. "There's no point complaining later."
"Complain? Well, it's a good thing we're getting to the next island, isn't it Thatch?" Ace's laugh was more to tease you than for any other reason. This time, you would allow yourself to fall into his pile, even if on purpose.
"Good to know, Mr. Portgas." a pretentious smile crossed your expression. "Island pussies will be the next and only ones you'll see."
The commotion between the friends brought a common redness to Ace's face, eliciting almost evil laughter from you. That same night, as you were getting ready for bed, you felt a hand wrap around your waist, wet lips slide down the back of your neck.
"You know I was joking, don't you?" Ace whispered, placing a kiss on the corner of your neck that he knew was your weak face. One of his hands slipped inside your shorts, his fingers played with the elastic of your panties. "Let me make it up to you for today?"
"But I wasn't kidding." Begrudgingly, you pulled away from him, turning to look at Ace's frustrated face. "Go after the women on the island."
"You don't have to be so mean."
"Or you'll have to beg." you pointed out, unable to hide the malice in your words. That didn't go unnoticed by Ace, who took a few steps back.
"So this is going to be a little game." He sat on the bed, arms back supporting his body, legs parted highlighting the bulge in his shorts. "Whoever begs first loses?"
"Not whoever begs first." you moved closer, pretending to sit on his lap, just enough to move away and lie down on the bed, facing away from his body. "You're the one who's going to beg. Good night, fire fists."
Ace wasted a good few minutes there, contemplating how low a game you had played at that moment. He wouldn't break the small bet first, at least that's what he thought.
The next day, hunting through the clothes you had, you picked out the ones you knew were his favorites. No comfortable pajamas or loose clothes until he gave in. You knew it would be a difficult bet, but this time you would emerge victorious.
Sundress on your skin, floral perfume and lips red as fire, you knew how to play your cards.
"Hi guys!" you approached the small circle that was engaged in some kind of conversation. You noticed three immediate reactions, Marco and Izou who laughed knowing full well what you were doing and Ace, who seemed to be lost in some kind of mirage.
"I know about your commitment, but it would be unfair if I let it go unnoticed." Vista pulled out some rose petals and handed them to you. "You look beautiful today."
"Thank you Vi." You purposely walked past them and leaned on the edge of the ship, feeling the wind move the hem of your dress. "How long until the island?"
"I-I guess one day, miss." you heard one of the boys murmur and then your boyfriend's voice shouted at him.
"I see what you're looking at!" you didn't even need to look back, knowing that Ace was touching all the brothers there. "Everyone disappear, go, circulate."
"What's wrong, darling?"
"What is wrong?" he came to you. His hands pointed indignantly at your body. "What is that?"
"A dress. Don't like it?" His growl of frustration made you laugh.
"You know very well that's not the problem." he leaned closer, almost whispering. "The problem is actually the incredible opposite of that."
"It's a shame, my little flame." you snuck up to reach his ear. "Although, seeing you all jealous like that makes me sooo wet. Too bad you can't see it, or taste it."
That sentence was enough to guarantee, firstly, Ace's bad mood, damn the time he was falling for such a bet, and secondly, another dose of overprotectiveness from Ace, after all, no one would watch his girl. Whether it was while you were parading around in your sundress, or when the next day you showed up in an even shorter one and wearing just a bikini over it, or when you decided to sleep wearing just one of his t-shirts.
A week had already passed since the small bet. Maybe Ace had taken your possible hurt too seriously, especially because he refused to disembark - until he saw you go to the village wearing another one of the clothes that drove him crazy and he wouldn't have been crazy enough to leave you parading alone.
Night had already fallen at Moby Dick and most of your colleagues were asleep when you reached your room. Of all things, you didn't expect to find Ace sitting on the edge of the bed, one hand wrapped in your panties and the other sliding over his cock.
"Looks like someone is having a hard time." you murmured, hearing him groan and turn towards you. "Ready to beg?"
"I bet you'll beg first." his husky voice punctuated, as if the sight of him masturbating in front of you wasn’t enough to turn you on.
"That's a game two can play, my love." you locked the door behind you and allowed your dress to turn into a puddle of fabric at your feet.
"No panties, all day?" you gave a smug smile when you saw that you had stolen his attention. Ignoring the question, you walked to the other side of the room.
"Do you see anything interesting?" you patiently dragged the chair in front of where Ace was sitting. Using the same patience, you sat down on the chair and let each of your legs rest beside him, giving him a privileged view.
"Fuck." he muttered. "You're not going to do that to me, are you?"
"I'm not going to lie, it's been a tough few days." Your hand slid across your breasts, paying little attention to them, after all your objective was different.
Your fingers separated your pussy lips, the shine indicating how wet you were made Ace tighten his grip against his own cock. You used your two middle fingers to slowly circle your clit.
"It's so hard to use just my fingers, my love." you penetrated one of your fingers inside you, slowly and giving a drawn out moan. "I miss you so much, you're so much better at this than me."
"Just ask." His voice was broken, his eyes focused on your intimacy.
"I'm not going to - fuck - give up." another finger accompanied the entry of intimacy, in a slow back and forth that was excruciating for you and your viewer. "But it's burning so much babe, I miss you so much in here."
You continued moving your fingers slowly, seeing that Ace no longer paid attention to his movements but to yours. The tip of his dick was almost red from the pressure of his closed fist, precum glistening and oozing from it. You took your fingers out of your intimate area and pretended to take them to Ace's mouth, when he opened them ready to taste, you put them in your mouth, moaning just to tease him.
"You're right when you say I'm delicious." you, millimeters away from him, made a point of licking finger after finger that was in contact with your pussy. "Too bad bad boys can't prove that."
"Please." the request was barely audible. "Babe, please."
"I don't think I heard you right. You're going to have to beg a little more." You closed your legs and leaned back against the chair.
"Please, love, let me taste you a little. You're so wet, I just want to feel you a little, please." he started to ask, his hands were now pressing hard against the bed sheet, a way to contain himself and not advance on you. "Fuck, please, baby, just a little."
"Such a good boy." You grabbed his chin and pulled away again. "Come on, you can taste some."
The words barely left your mouth and Ace was already on his knees on the floor. His hands separating your legs and this time, resting them on his shoulders. His tongue - warmer than usual - slid all over your pussy, bringing some of the relief you had waited for so long.
"No, no, no my dear." you asked as you saw one of his hands slide out of your reach. "You've been a bad boy these days and that's why you can't touch yourself."
"Y-Yes ma'am." he pulled away from your lower lips to respond. His hand, which went down to his dick, went up to your intimacy, inserting his fingers without any warning. "Can I do that? Fuck you like that? It's so tight."
"Please, Ace." Your request sounded like music to his ears, which accelerated the small thrusts he made while holding your clitoris between his lips.
Your hand got tangled in his dark hair and pulled him away from your intimacy. You stood up and he remained on his knees there, waiting for the next order. That was already an old thing between the two of you and the days of waiting only made it even more enjoyable.
You motioned for him to stand and took his lips to yourself. The taste of you stuck in his mouth along with the moans he made could be almost enough to get you there, but you needed more. You pushed Ace onto the bed, laying him down and placing his hands under the pillow. Before sinking down on his cock, you let your hips rub your intimacy soaked by his length.
“I’m begging you” he pleaded, trying to lunge at you. "Just let me fuck you, just a little. I already did what you wanted, begging and leaving me suffering like this is too mean."
"Does my little flame want to cum?" You slid down, feeling inch by inch of him impaling you. Your moans were contained, remembering the comments of your friends who heard you. "Just a little more and I promise to let you fill me up." you moved slowly, only to leave him frustrated.
"Honey, please." his voice was squeaky, the pillow over his hands had become a mash of cotton and fabric. "Please, just ride for me. Just move, please."
"Like this?" You let his cock move in and out a few times, hearing him moan loudly.
"Exactly like that, please." you increased your pace.
It was like having a private ego booster. Each time your hips met the base of his cock, you could hear the moans increase - theirs and yours. The ends of the pillow began to turn to ashes as you remained on top of Ace, looking for both of you to orgasm.
"Keep it up, your pussy is squeezing me so good, so fucking good. I can't hold back anymore, babe."
"Poor Ace." you slid out of him, seeing him grunt. The little torture was too much even for you. Before letting him in again, you took his hands from under the pillow and brought them to your hips. "Can you help me?"
It was like awakening a sleeping monster, or releasing a beast that had been caged for decades. Ace immediately turned you over on the bed and your legs met his shoulders. He could bend you in half there, you really liked it when he took the reins to complain. It didn't take many thrusts for you to become a mess beneath him, holding your tongue so you wouldn't become the one begging.
"That's how you like it, isn't it? Feeling me so deep in that pussy, so delicious, so mine" Ace pressed you even more, eliciting a scream mixed with a moan from inside you. "Is this how you want it, my princess?"
"I -I…Ace!"
"No need to beg, babe." One of his fingers began to circle your clitoris as quickly as he was thrusting deep into you. "Just cum with me, please. Let me feel you cumming so good around me." your orgasm became just a blur in your vision, as Ace filled you. The heat that his cum brought inside you was capable of making you cum again.
Before he threw himself on your side of the bed, Ace took your lips in a deep kiss and even when he lay down, his hands slid down your back, giving you goosebumps that you knew very well what they meant.
"You lost." your voice came out weaker than before.
"Yeah, I lost." unlike your voice, his came out provocative. His fingertips seemed to get hotter and hotter as he traced your skin. "For my defeat, tomorrow I take your services."
"This is a great prize." you laughed, turning your head to meet his attentive gaze. "Ace?"
"Just ask, my princess."
"As I've already won and now it's worthless…" you pulled his hand to your lips, teasing kisses falling between his fingers. "Fuck me just a little more, please, I want to feel you a little more. I missed you so much."
A weak laugh came from Ace and his hand that was on your lips came down to clamp against your throat.
"I don't think I heard you right. You're going to have to beg a little more."
#fiction#reader insert#one piece#no use of y/n#requests open#portgas ace x reader#ace x you#fire fist ace#ace x reader#portgas d ace
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of our own making
(an X-Files fanfic)
Oh hey, look, it's that massive story I've been working on since January! I'm so thankful to everyone who has shown interest in the concept of this fic and the little snippets I've posted. You've been more help than you know. Without that support, I don't think this would have ever gotten finished.
A special thanks to @numinousmysteries who kindly beta read for me and did a fantastic job. I wanted to make sure I got this right, and she was a great help!
And now I can't wait to share this with you all! New chapters posted daily!
[Read on AO3]
Chapter 1/34 - ink and paper
How long has he been thinking about this, she wonders. What exactly is he thinking? Her mind races, trying to reconcile this Mulder whose deepest desires are spilled out here in ink on worn and crinkled brochures with the one she’s spent nearly every day with these past several months.
She'd never have guessed...
Find out if adoption is right for you!
Visit us at 8080 Meadowlark Ln. Annapolis, MD
“A Home for Every Child!”
Scully stares down at the brochure on the desk. One of many, which are half buried underneath a pile of paperwork from their current case. Certain words and phrases are circled in pen, underlined, annotated in the margins in the familiar scrawl she knows almost better than her own.
stability – less travel? change in division? discuss with Scully
loving home – ask Frohike for real estate agent #
The word “family” is circled three times.
She swallows with some difficulty, finding—to her dismay—that her hands are shaking. Mulder will be arriving any second, and here she is, frozen like a statue.
How long has he been thinking about this, she wonders. What exactly is he thinking? Her mind races, trying to reconcile this Mulder whose deepest desires are spilled out here in ink on worn and crinkled brochures with the one she’s spent nearly every day with these past several months.
She’d never have guessed…
“Morning, partner,” his voice calls out, and she jolts in surprise. She hears the door snick shut behind him, but she can’t bring herself to turn around. With deft fingers, she pushes the brochure back under the stack of papers where she found it, only the colorful corner of the page visible.
“Morning, Mulder,” she tries, clearing her throat. It comes out strained, but she hopes he doesn’t notice. She hides her trembling hands in her lap under the desk.
He looks down at her, half amused, half concerned. “You okay? You're not getting that stomach bug that's been going around, are you?”
“I'm fine,” she answers defensively, warning him to back off. She grabs a file off the desk in front of her with a little more force than necessary, plopping it open.
‘Okayyy,’ he mouths exaggeratedly, eyebrows raised. He sits down at his desk and leafs through some papers sitting on top, arranging them into neater stacks. When he uncovers the brochures, his eyes widen and he clears his throat, hurriedly covering them with other papers and trying to act natural.
Scully thinks about letting it go and pretending she doesn’t know what he’s hiding, but she knows she won’t be able to sleep until she finds out what’s been going on in that ridiculous head of his.
She idly flips to the next page of the file in her hand, displaying a confidence she doesn’t feel in the firm set of her shoulders
“Doing some light reading, Mulder?” she asks, attempting to look disinterested.
His head shoots up, a look of alarm on his face. For a second he thinks she might be talking about something else, that she couldn’t possibly know, but one look at her throws that theory right out the window. He glances back and forth between her and the papers on the desk a few times before dropping his shoulders in defeat.
“I’m sorry, Scully, you weren’t supposed to see those,” he says, shuffling all the brochures into a pile while carefully avoiding eye contact. “I was working here late last night. I must have forgotten to put them away.” As he speaks, he opens the top drawer of his desk and shoves them inside, then takes a seat at his desk. His nose is buried in a file before she can even respond.
She watches him now. He is a curiosity, determinedly feigning concentration on a case she knows he finds disinteresting and a waste of time.
Typical.
“You're really not going to say anything?” she asks, arms crossed in front of her.
That rankles him. “What do you want me to say?” he asks, indignation boiling below the surface.
She looks at him incredulously, the file in front of her all but forgotten.
“You're thinking of adoption? When were you planning to share this with me?”
He sighs and shakes his head, pleading silently with her. “It's too soon, Scully. I didn't think you'd want to hear it yet.”
“But you're looking into it because…”
“It's just been on my mind, that's all.”
She stares at him, brows furrowed.
“Since when?”
Since when… Images flash of a life he didn’t recognize. His sister, alive and grown up. A quiet suburban neighborhood. Cancer Man living just down the street. A wife and kids, but not the right ones. It was wrong, all of it was wrong.
“A hallucinatory trip into an alternate universe tends to make you think,” he answers simply.
He’s looking at her now, deadly serious despite the joking tone. She doesn’t respond. Can’t respond.
“I'm sorry, I didn't want to bring all this up,” he continues. “I know it's a sore spot for you.”
It takes her a moment to conjure words from her mouth, her lips moving but no sound coming out. “I just wasn't expecting…”
“For all I know, this isn't even something you'd want.”
What does she say to that? Is she interested?
“I– I'm not sure. I've never really considered it before.”
He waits, his eyes assessing her for some hidden meaning, some insight into her state of mind. He gets nothing. She’s totally blank.
“Well… what do you want?” He thought the question was innocuous enough, safer territory than straight up asking her if she wants to adopt, but apparently not.
She shuts her folder, abruptly standing and slinging her purse over her shoulder. “I'm going back to the crime scene,” she declares, changing the subject. “I want to see if there's anything we missed.”
“Scully…” he tries.
“Not now, Mulder.” Without even taking the time to put her coat on, she flees, leaving the door partially open in her rush to get away. Cursing under his breath, Mulder grabs his coat from its hook and hurries after her.
The elevator doors are almost all the way closed by the time he catches up, but in this case, he figures it’s worth the potential loss of a limb. He throws his hand between the closing gap in the metal doors, and it bounces back open to allow him entrance, to the extreme displeasure of one Dana Scully. He wisely stays silent in the elevator, stealing glances at her every few seconds out of the corner of his eye as they ascend. He can feel the frigid air coming off her in waves. It’s been a while since he’s seen her this annoyed with him, this eager to get away.
He won’t let her. Not this time. He’s learned from his mistakes.
In the parking garage, she's walking briskly, heels clicking on the concrete, and he has to pick up the pace to keep up with surprisingly agile little legs.
He didn’t want this confrontation. There was a reason he was keeping his research a secret. This is exactly what he was hoping to avoid, at least until the time was right to carefully drop some hints here and there. But now? There’s no carefully about it. No option to wait and let this blow over. There’s only one way out of this at this point, and unfortunately, that way is through.
He picks up the pace.
“You're the one who brought this up, Scully, I was perfectly happy throwing those brochures in my drawer and not saying a word.”
His voice echoes in the concrete parking structure, sounding harsh even to his own ears. As frustrated as he is with her, that isn’t his intent. He only wants to know what he can do to help her, how he can help her fulfill her dreams. He lets out a breath, and with it, releases his selfish frustration. She’s still walking away at a breakneck pace, and he doesn’t know how he can get her to stop and face this.
“If you want to talk about it, let's talk about it,” he says, pleading. “I can't help you if I don't know what you want. You want me to shut up, never mention the subject again?” he shouts, throwing his hands in the air, “Fine, just tell me. What do you want, Scully?”
“I just want to be a mom, okay?” she yells, whirling around to face him. Her words instantly silence him, and he watches stone-faced as tears spring in her eyes. “I see all these other moms out there and think… I could do that too. Why can’t I do that too?”
Well, mission accomplished. The truth is finally out there. Part of him feels bad for pushing her, but the other part knows that it was doing her no good to keep her feelings bottled up inside to deal with by herself. He reaches out a hand, intending to comfort her, his eyes softening in sympathy.
“You could. Scully, you’d be the best mom.”
She flinches away, stepping out of his reach. “You don’t know that, Mulder. I can’t even—even my body is even telling me no. Over and over.” She resumes her brisk walk to her car, and he thinks he sees her brush angrily at her face, no doubt wiping away the evidence of the stubborn tears that have managed to escape.
He rushes to get in front of her, walking backwards so he can keep her in his sight.
“When has that ever stopped you?” he asks. “You had cancer, and you kept fighting. You’re alive today because you refused to give up when your body quit on you. What about that?” He stops abruptly, forcing her to come to a halt before she crashes into him.
There’s no way out of this, is there? Her shoulders slump in defeat.
“You saved me, Mulder,” she admits quietly, shaking her head. “You’re the one who didn’t give up. Not me. It was only because you were with me that I survived.”
This time, when she goes to walk away, he stops her, placing a hand on her shoulder. The simple touch causes her to freeze, hardly breathing, and when he steps closer, she stays. His hands slide down her shoulders, holding her securely in place to ensure that his next words come through loud and clear.
“I’m gonna be with you here on this too, I promise.” His thumbs brush back and forth on the fabric of her sleeves, for his comfort or hers, she’s not sure. “You can still be a mother, Scully. I’ll help you.”
She shakes her head, her heart feeling like it has been ripped to shreds. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” He gives her a little shake for emphasis. She still won’t look at him. “You’ve kept me alive all these years, how much harder could a baby be?”
That gets a breathy chuckle from her, and her head falls to her chest. Groaning with the agony of this burden on her heart, she stops fighting it and leans into him. Without hesitation, he wraps an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his embrace.
Her hand comes up to find purchase on his suit jacket, relishing in the comfort only he can provide. She’s past caring if anyone sees them like this here. Let them talk. They already do, anyway.
“Well, at least when you wake me up in the middle of the night, you’re not crying,” she speaks into his chest.
She feels him shrug, and can almost see the goofy smile she knows she put on his lips.
“Usually.”
She looks up at him with her chin on his sternum before taking a deep breath and pulling away.
“It's raining,” he says softly, glancing down at her and brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “We can go back to the crime scene later.” She nods, unsure what else to say. She allows herself to be led, his ever-present hand brushing against her back as they start toward the basement.
“Adoption,” Scully mutters to herself, shaking her head in disbelief. “I don’t know, Mulder. This—this is different than IVF. With that, all I was asking for was your…” her eyes dart around, looking anywhere but at him, “genetic material. This is something entirely different.”
He’s pleased she’s at least considering it, but she doesn’t get it at all, if that’s what she thinks.
“How? ‘Cause from where I’m standing, the process of getting a baby is a little different, but in the long run, the result is the same.”
She pauses, looking at him in confusion. “What– what are you saying?”
He runs a hand awkwardly through his hair, suddenly taking a unique interest in his shoes and the floor of the parking structure.
“Yeah, we probably should have talked about this before…”
“Talked about what?”
He sighs and guides her into a stairwell. It’s stuffy and poorly-lit with a flickering lightbulb, but here, there’s less of a chance they’ll be overheard.
“Look, Scully, I don’t know what you had in mind for my involvement beyond contributing to half the baby’s DNA when you first asked me to help you get pregnant,” he starts, fighting hard to meet her eyes instead of shying away. “But, I– I had hoped it would be a little more than ‘Say hi to Uncle Mulder,’ every couple of months.”
She blinks back at him, speechless.
“I’m sorry if that’s overstepping, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable with all this, I just—” He takes in a breath. “I guess I got to thinking of what it might be like to have a family again.” His bout of honesty is met with a blank stare, and his nervous smile drops. “I completely misread the situation, didn’t I?” he asks, self-loathing waiting on standby. “Got ahead of myself…”
She stops him by catching his coat sleeve. “No—uh. No, you didn’t.” She collects herself, willing herself to offer him some reassurance. Her fingers release the fabric of his coat, shifting her grasp instead to his hand. “I didn’t realize you felt that way.”
He glances down at where she holds tightly to him, and his lips curl into some semblance of a smile.
“I guess they might have had a point with all those communication seminars we’ve skipped, huh?”
She chuckles softly.
“I don’t think this is exactly what they had in mind…”
With a gentle tug, Mulder leads her down the stairs, committed to holding her hand as long as she’ll let him. The air is stagnant and silent, only the rhythmic echo of their shoes clicking on the concrete steps as they make their way to the bottom floor.
She’s thinking. What she knows now, it changes everything.
She had asked him to leave. Hid her grief from him as much as possible after her initial lapse into weakness when she came home with the news. She had almost kissed him, then, unsure of what else she had to live for. She knew she was hurting him by folding inward on herself in the weeks that followed, but that didn’t stop her from doing it. She was in a dark place, hardly able to see what was right in front of her. What she couldn’t see was that his hurt wasn’t just for her, born of some misguided sense of guilt or pity. It was his own, too.
“Mulder, all those months, after it failed—” There’s something like fear in her voice as she utters these words, or maybe regret.
“I was just worried about you.”
She squeezes his hand, feeling tears well in her eyes once more. “No, you were grieving like I was, and I didn’t notice. I pushed you away…”
“Dana…” He turns, a couple steps ahead of her, so for once it’s him who has to look up to meet her eyes. Her lip wobbles as she looks down at him, and he brushes his thumb tenderly over her knuckles. “You had to deal with it on your own, I understood that. I don’t blame you for anything.”
Those eyes. So open and honest and sad. She wonders how anyone could hurt him, could bear to break this man’s heart. How could she?
Choking back a sob, she falls into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding tight. His arms encircle her back, supporting her weight, and she feels herself being lifted as he goes up a step, closing the distance between them.
His hand climbs up to the back of her head, stroking her hair soothingly.
“I just wanted to be there for you,” he mumbles into her neck.
“You were, Mulder,” she gasps between bouts of tears, finding comfort in the feel of his soft hair between her fingers. “You’ve always been there.”
He pulls back, lifting his hands to cup her face and wiping away the tears he finds there with the pads of his thumbs.
“You don’t have to give an answer now,” he says, reassuring, “This is… a big commitment, I know, and I don’t want you to say yes just because I suggested it. I just wanted you to know it’s an option, and if you want to have a baby, I’m in. However you want to go about it, I’ll be as involved as you want. Just– let me know, anytime. Okay?”
He’s looking at her now, head ducked so those sad, puppy-dog eyes can get his message across.
She nods, holding tight to the wrists that so tenderly cup her face.
“Okay.”
~~~
Lovely tag list ♡: [if you would like to be added or removed, let me know!]
@today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @bby-got-books @calimanc @captainsolocide @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @mulderscully @oofubad @p34chi @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @slippinmickeys @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear @whovianderson
#msr#txf#x files#xf fanfic#mulder and scully#my fanfiction#fox mulder#dana scully#of our own making#ooom#msr adoption fic#adoption
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Small Book Trope: Hyung Line
Non!Idol Stray Kids x Reader
Hello everyone! I don't post much but this little idea came to mind when I was on vacation! I hope everyone likes these little drabbles! Enjoy!!
Bang Chan
Chris sighed as he closed the door to your shared apartment. “I’m home.” He muttered while taking his shoes and sweatshirt off. It had been a long day of work and he was ready to settle into his well deserved vacation. The two of you decided to turn your phones on airplane mode and just spend the week lounging around and enjoying each other's company.
Soft music played from the end of the hallway. He made his way to the bedroom, his muscles slowly releasing the tension built up knowing he was so close to being in your arms. He had to bite back a laugh when he saw you. Your jaw dropped slightly as you turned page after page, reading the climax of the book. He stood there for a minute before breaking the silence, “Whatcha reading, love?”
You jumped up, almost losing your place. You glared at him, “Jesus, Christopher! Don’t scare me like that! Announce yourself next time.”
“Actually, I did. You were just too immersed in your book to hear me.” He laughed as he began to strip, changing into more comfortable clothes.
You playfully pouted before marking your place. “It’s not funny.”
“Yes it is. Look at you, you want to laugh at yourself.” He said slowly crawling up the bed. You hummed with a small smile before putting the book to the side, opening your arms wide so he could lay down on your stomach.
You began running your fingers through his hair. Smiling at the satisfied groan. “I missed this. I missed you.” He said after a few moments of silence, placing soft kisses on your stomach. “I waited all day to have you in my arms.” He continued as he shifted in your grasp, slowly inching up to your breast. “I waited all day to feel you.” Blush creeped up your neck as he began to kiss your collarbone. “I waited all day to kiss you.” You groaned as he claimed your lips. Chris smirked as he pulled you down to be underneath him. “Now, I get to have you all to myself for a week.”
Lee Know
You giggled as Soonie once again headbutted your book. “Excuse me, I’m reading that.” You said to the cat before going back to the page. The enemies were finally confessing their love for each other in the most angsty way and there was no way in hell you were waiting until later to read it.
Minho watched you out of the corner of his eye as he began folding down some of the empty boxes, leaving a few for the cats to play in. It took a good couple weeks after he had asked you to move in, to actually move you in. Work was keeping the both of you busy so when the day came that you both had a day off together, you jumped at the opportunity to grab the moving truck.
As expected, you had unboxed the few boxes that contained your most precious items, your books. He never fully understood what the obsession is but he found it cute when you would try and explain the story’s plot to him. He smiled when you yelled out Soonie’s name as he moved the boxes by the door. “Min, what are you doing? I thought we agreed to leave those for tomorrow so the cats could play.”
“I left a few.” He replied before heading to the kitchen to start on dinner. He glanced to the side as he head your soft footsteps behind him.
“Mm Min,” you began as you wrapped your arms around his waist. “You worked so hard to help me move in. Why don’t we order in and I can tell you all about my book.”
He leaned into your touch. “I like the sound of that. If I sit there and listen can I have some dessert?”
“Celebratory dessert? I like the sound of that. What were you thinking?” You asked, looping your arms around his neck as he turned around to face you.
“I was thinking you.” He laughed as you playfully punched his chest, hiding your blush.
Changbin
“Changbin…” you sighed. You looked at him with concern as he gave you his cute smile. “I don’t know about this, honey.”
“It’ll be fine! I promise I can handle it if you think you’re gonna be too heavy.” Your frown deepened. You were scared about that, especially knowing your body leaned a little more to the bigger side. Your boyfriend wanted to work out and you wanted to read, but because of how little time you’ve been together, he came up with the idea that you sit on his back and read as he did push ups. Changbin took your face in his hands before placing a kiss on your forehead. “Let’s just try it, please? If I start hurting I promise to tell you.”
You placed your hands over his and pouted slightly. “Promise?”
“Promise.” He placed one more kiss on your forehead.
You groaned. “Fine. Let me go grab my book.” You laughed as he let out a noise before yelling that he’ll set things up. By the time you came back in, he had a mat set up, water and some snacks for you. “Been planning this for a while?” You asked, shocked at the set up.
He nervously laughed as blush crept up his neck. “Maybe.” He said shyly. “Anyway! I’m gonna get in a push up position and when I give you the go ahead, you’re gonna sit on my back.” You gave him another nervous look. He sighed. “Baby, I promise to tell you if anything is going wrong.” You sighed before motioning him to get into position. You giggled as he did a few push ups for a warm up before getting as low as he could.
You hesitantly sat on his back cross legged. “How are you feeling?” You yelped as he began his exercise. You waited a few before beginning to pick up where you left off.
-
You were really getting into the characters betrayal when you heard panting. You got off immediately and went to grab his water. You frowned as you took in Changbin’s state. He was on his back, catching his breath. Sweat dripping down his face. “Baby, why didn’t you tell me you were getting to your pushing point?”
Changbin gave you a tired smile, sitting up and taking the water you held out to him. “It was a good burn. Did you not enjoy it?”
You took a seat next to him, looking at how much reading you had done. You managed to get a good amount done. “I did. It was nice to have actually spent some time with you. I would just prefer to sit somewhere else next time though.” Changbin’s face began to burn as he smirked at you. You gave him a confused look before hiding your face in embarrassment. “Get your mind out of the gutter!” You sunk further as he laughed.
Hyunjin
Silence surrounded the two. The only noise being made was the turn of pages. To anyone else, you would look like a normal human being enjoying a good book. To Hyunjin, you looked like an angel. An angel he called his. You were his muse. He found inspiration in just about everything you did. Whether that be bringing flowers home, the desserts you would make with Felix, or just lounging about. This was one of those times.
He sat across from you on the couch, sketch book in hand. He sat there drawing you from every angle he could capture. He would make faces if he didn’t capture something right. He wanted this, you, to look perfect. Just like he saw you. Absolutely downright beautiful.
After finishing yet another chapter, you grabbed your bookmark to finally stretch your limbs. You looked over at Hyunjin when he whined. “What’s wrong?”
“You moved.” He replied as he erased a part of the sketch that made him unhappy.
You raised an eyebrow before moving toward him, your joints cracking on the way. Before you could peek at his sketchbook, he quickly turned it away from you. This shocked you. “You’re not gonna let me see it? You always let me see your drawings.”
“Not right now. I’m not done. It has to be perfect.” You hummed. You’ve never seen him this determined on a sketch before. You muttered an ‘okay’, moving to the kitchen to grab a few glasses of water. You cursed as you tried to get a look at the book, Hyunjin skillfully evading it from your view.
You sighed as you walked back over. You gave him a kiss on top of his head before setting the water down. He muttered a ‘thank you’ before watching you settle back into your spot, immediately grabbing your book. You watched him with slight curiosity before diving back into your book.
-
You closed your finished book, tiredness seeping it away behind your eyes. You yawned and snuggled into the couch before looking at Hyunjin. He looked between you and the sketch book before moving closer to you. “Thank you.” He muttered as he placed a sweet kiss on your lips.
“For what?” You asked, tiredness present in your voice as you held your arms out for him. He quickly accepted the invitation, shifting you around until you laid on top of him. He placed a kiss on your head before grabbing the sketchbook. Your eyes widened as you took the picture in. It was of you reading. Your hair flowing beautifully around your face, your features delicately drawn into the page. You hardly recognized yourself. If anything, Hyunjin made you more beautiful. “Hyune, this is beautiful.”
He widely smiled. “It’s my favorite piece of inspiration you gave me.”
“You’ve definitely captured me a lot prettier than I am.” You said quietly as you gently traced the outline of your face.
“No, I don’t think so.” You turned to look at him as he took the book from you. “I captured perfection, a muse. My muse. This is what I see everyday when I wake up next to you.”
Tears began to cloud your eyes as you looked at the sketch again. “I love you, you know that?”
He kissed a tear away. “And I love you a thousand times more.”
Taglist: @yxngbxkkie @mxnsxngie
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Made For One
Alrighty, here we are with the fem reader peace. I went rough with this one. There is slight choking, mommy kink, a little BDSM, and a small bit of exhibitionism. Also, it's set up to where I could always do another part, you know, if there's enough interest.
Length 2.1K
Fem Reader x GP Hwasa
As you were walking down the hallway, preparing for your next class, you were approached by your classmate, Karina. She flirted with you a little, touching your shoulders as she asked if you could study together sometime. You think about your schedule quickly before telling her when you’re available. “So Sunday? You could spend the night over at my house,” she suggested.
“Yeah, that sounds good,” you tell her before you head off to class together. It was hidden at the end of the hallway by itself. You couldn’t find it to save your life on the first day of class, but you now have a handle on it. Outside the classroom was your professor, Hwasa, with an annoyed expression. She wore her usual outfit: a tight white button-down shirt and a short gray skirt. Hwasa’s muscular thighs were visible to everyone. “Hello, professor,” you greet her.
She places her arm on your shoulder, “I need to talk to you for a second after class.” You nod your head, gulping as you sit in the back of the class. You worry about what Hwasa wanted the entire time before you even knew it; the class was over, and you were left alone with her. Hwasa locks the door to her classroom before walking toward you. Your eyes move upward, catching Hwasa as she walks over to you, unbuttoning most of her shirt, her tan bra poking out. “Who was that you were talking to?” She asks, already knowing the answer. Hwasa sits on your desk, eyes cast down at you.
“S-she just wanted to study together.”
Hwasa places her hand on your shoulder before moving it up, her fingers running along your neck before she forces your head up. “Don’t lie to me. I saw what she was doing. You had a big grin on your face, too.”
“I’m sorry.” You reply meekly.
“I think you’re missing a part,” Hwasa replies as her grip strengthens.
“I’m sorry, Mommy.”
Hwasa grins, and she lets go of you, “That’s a good girl, but I still have to punish you. I’ll be nice and give you the option, here or home?”
“H-here.” You knew your answer didn’t matter. Hwasa was going to take you whenever she wanted. You knew the punishment was going to be rough and leave you bedridden for a while; you also knew who you became during Hwasa’s punishments. Your eyes move down, stopping as they see the bulge pressing against Hwasa’s skirt.
“Mommy’s going to teach you a lesson,” Hwasa whispers into your ear before hopping off your desk. Come over here,” she says as she walks to her desk. She waits patiently, tapping her nails along the wooden desk. You walk over to her and feel her hand move to the small of your back. “Get on the desk, now.” You follow her orders, sitting on the table. “Lay down on your back.” Again, you do as Hwasa says, lying down on her desk. She moves you up, pulling you until your head is off the edge of the desk. You watch her unzip her skirt; her panties do little to hide her cock. It was long and girthy, pointing straight to Hwasa’s stomach until she dropped them, too. “You know what’s coming, right baby?” You nod your head slowly. Hwasa drags the tip of her cock against your lips, tracing them. You stick your tongue out slightly, knowing what Hwasa likes. You hear her groan as she feels your wet tongue touch the tip of her cock.
Hwasa pushes the head into your mouth slowly; your lips stretch as she pushes her shaft in. “That’s it, take this cock down your throat, whore.” With that, she rams the rest of her cock down your throat. You feel her cock stretch it, and her balls smack against your face. Hwasa stares at your throat, watching it expand as she begins thrusting. Saliva drips from the corner of your mouth, flowing down your face as Hwasa uses your throat like a fleshlight. You feel yourself getting wet, your panties quickly becoming soaked as you give into your mommy’s demands. You don’t even react as Hwasa tears open your shirt and rips your bra off. You curl your toes as you feel Hwasa slap one of your tits. “Dirty bitch. I bet you were hoping to get some dick from someone else.” Your moans are muffled, leaving you unable to respond. You catch glimpses of Hwasa taking off her shirt and tossing her bra onto the ground, shaking her head to adjust her hair as she continues to use you. You feel the pain from another one of her slaps before she grabs both of your nipples, pulling on them harshly and making you scream out from the pleasure. You end up gargling your saliva, your throat still blacked by Hwasa’s cock.
She lets go of your nipples before dragging her cock out of your throat, making sure to rub it against your face and cover you in your spit. You couldn’t help yourself. You reached for your right tit with one hand while running your fingers along your slit with the other. You feel Hwasa’s hand connect with your cheek a moment later. “Who told you can touch yourself?!” She yells at you, and you feel the sting from the hit, but it all blends together with the pleasure.
“I’m sorry, Mommy. I’ll be a good girl from now on,” you tell her. Hwasa gives you an annoyed look before spitting on your tits. She climbs the table, sitting just under your head as she places her cock between your tits, pressing them together before beginning to thrust. You feel the heat from her cock as she moves between your tits. You run your hands along her thighs, only for her to chastise you.
“Oh, you want to touch me?” Hwasa adjusts her position, fully sitting on you before grinding her ass against you. “If you want me so bad, here you go. Why don’t you be a good girl and eat me? Maybe I’ll go easy on you later.” Without a second thought, you tease Hwasa’s ass with your tongue, moving it around her puckered asshole. You can hear her groan, and it pushes you to do more. You greedily squeeze at Hwasa’s ass as your tongue pushes inside her. She rocks back and forth and applies more pressure. You struggle to breathe but continue to please your mommy. Hwasa rewards you by twisting your nipples, making you moan as you eat her up. “You’re a hungry little bitch aren’t you?” She says with mild amusement. You were running out of breath and trying to tell Hwasa. Still, she remained sitting on you; just as you were about to pass out, she climbed off you, stroking her cock and painting your barely conscious face with her cum. “There, you have something else to eat.” She says before walking to the side of the table, stroking her cock as she thought about what to do next.
Hwasa gave herself more time to think by stripping you of your skirt, leaving you in your panties for a second. She slapped you pussy, with a hard smack that nearly made you cum. “You’re such a dirty whore, getting off on this. I bet you want to cum, don’t you?”
You nod quickly. “I want to cum, mommy.”
“Okay, mommy will let you cum.” Hwasa says as she climbs onto the table, grabbing your legs and folding you into a mating press. Using her weight to keep you in place, she reaches for you, wrapping one hand around your neck. “I don’t want you talking to anyone else. You are mommy’s fleshlight. You’re going to do whatever I say. If I tell you to strip in the middle of class so I can fuck you, you will do it. Understand?” Hwasa moves your panties to the side and drags her cock between your lips, making you whimper. “I said, do you understand?”
“Yes, Mommy.”
“Then what are you?”
“I’m Mommy’s fleshlight.”
Hwasa lets go of your throat and caresses your cheek, a soft smile forming. “That’s a good girl. That’s all I wanted to hear.” Hwasa points the tip of her cock right at your entrance and impales you with her first thrust; you feel her cock tear through you as she stretches your tiny cunt and splits your walls apart. “You’re you tight for mommy. Tell mommy how much you want her to fuck you.”
“I want your cock, mommy. Please fuck me,” You tell her in a small voice. Hwasa smiled as she began to move inside you. Her cock moved in and out slowly at first before it started to pick up speed. It was deep inside you, practically kissing your womb as she pushed every inch inside you. Your moans filled the classroom as Hwasa leaned in and nipped at your neck, leaving hickeys all along it.
“If I ever see you with anyone else, I’ll teach you a much rougher lesson.” She whispers before nibbling on your ear. You’re overwhelmed by all the sensations and feel yourself about to cum. Hwasa feels it, too; your walls were clamping down on her cock. You could feel its veins and the way it began to throb.
“Mommy, I want your cum. Please give it to me.” You whine as you grip her arms. Hwasa grunts as she continues to pound away at your body. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge until you weren’t able to hold it together anymore. You cum on Hwasa’s cock, forcing her to climax a moment later. Your mind melts as you feel Hwasa’s warm cum pours into you, painting your walls white as she claims your body.
Hwasa pulls out slowly, her cock covered in a mixture of cum and your nectar. She climbs off the table and gets by your face, smacking it with her dirtied cock. “Come on, baby, clean it up.” She says, placing her hands on her hips as you open your mouth and use your tongue to clean her cock. You taste yourself on it. It arouses you, and you begin to touch yourself, your fingers playing with your clit as you massage one of your tits. You can feel Hwasa’s cum flow from your cunt, making a small puddle as you masturbate.
As you were finishing, Hwasa dragged her cock out slowly, rubbing it on your face. “We’re done here, sweetie. You can go.” Hwasa says cooly as she gathers her clothes and dresses herself. You remain on the table, masturbating until you cum again, coating the desk in a layer of your nectar. “Clean everything up before you go,” Hwasa says as she leaves you alone in the room.
Hwasa told you to arrive early in the morning the next time you had class. When you got to the classroom, Karina, who had flirted with you the other day, was standing outside. The door to the room opened, and Hwasa said, “You’re both here. Great. Come inside.” The two of you stepped inside, and Hwasa told the girl to sit down as she locked the door behind you. As you passed Hwasa, she wrapped her arm around you and whispered. “Strip for mommy.”
“But”
“Now.” Karina watched as you stripped down to nothing. This was Hwasa showing her just who you belonged to. She got behind you and continued the show, “Suck me off.” You kneel before Hwasa as she pulls out her cock, stuffing it into your mouth. You glance over at Karina, noticing a slight bulge under her skirt before Hwasa pushes you to her pelvis. Hwasa poured her cum into your stomach before pulling out. You open your mouth to show her you drank it all, earning a smile. “Good girl,” Hwasa says as she helps you to your feet. Hwasa sits at her desk, facing Karina as she plants you on her cock. “Karina, this one is all mine. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, Mommy.” You moan as you bounce on her cock. Having Karina watch you turned you on, she could see everything, from your bouncing tits to your bare cunt. She was stunned.
“Oh? It looks like you're hard, too. You can jerk off if you want to.” Hwasa says, licking your neck as you near your climax. As Karina pulls out her feeble cock Hwasa humiliates her. “That’s all you have? You couldn’t please her if you tried.” Karina jerked herself off quickly, cumming over herself in a matter of seconds. You came a moment later, your walls tightening around Hwasa’s cock as she dumped her cum in you. “I think this could be fun,” Hwasa whispers. “I think I’ll make you both mine.” She whispers into your ear.
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