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#why is that so funny to you? that he wants to be known? that he wants to reach out to his community?
cupid-styles · 2 days
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a helping hand*
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in which y/n can't orgasm and harry is a helpful ex-friend with benefits.
word count: 3.3k
content warnings: mentions of depression/mental health and anti-depressants, discussions of reduced libido, smut (phone sex, mentions of sex toys, dirty talk, description of group sex and mmf threesomes)
this one goes out to all the besties on anti-depressants
masterlist | talk to me
. . .
“No.”
“But—”
“No.”
Harry sighs in frustration before crossing his arms over his chest. If he pursed his raspberry lips into a pout, he’d look more like a petulant child than the young adult Y/N’s known for the past few years. With a roll of her eyes, she lifts her glass to her mouth and takes a healthy swig of her coke and rum. She allows herself to scan the interior of the bar — it’s just barely 6 pm on a Wednesday so she’s not surprised that it’s primarily filled with locals and teams of corporate offices decompressing after a long day. 
“I could always make you come when we hooked up and I bet you I could still do it.”
“Christ, Harry, give it a rest,” Y/N replies, narrowing her eyes at the curly haired brunette. “It’s not just with partners, it’s me, too.”
He quirks an eyebrow and settles his elbows on the sticky table. She huffs when she realizes she’s only piqued his attention even more now that she’s revealed another inkling of her… problem. 
“Can you just tell me what’s going on, then? You know, when I texted you for our semiannual catch up, I didn’t think we’d be getting into your sudden inability to orgasm, but—”
“Can you lower your voice?” Y/N hisses with wide eyes. “I didn’t think we would talk about this either but you’re the one who asked if I’m seeing anyone—”
“Yeah, seeing anyone, not coming for anyone—”
“Just shut up!” she mutters, nearly knocking over her almost-finished drink. “If I tell you, you have to drop it.”
“I can’t promise that.”
“Harry…”
“As your ex-friend with benefits, I have no duty to keep secrets that aren’t about our bedroom-related rendezvouses.” 
“There hasn’t been a ‘rendezvous’ in five years.”
“There could be.”
She sighs and presses her fingertips to her temples. This is why she and Harry never worked out. They’re total opposites — he has the energy of a rowdy golden retriever and she exudes a calm, monotone nature. (She thinks she’s borderline boring if you ask her, but that’s something she’s been saving for therapy.) 
At parties in college, he was always the one working the room, chatting with everyone while she stood in the corner and clutched her solo cup for dear life. 
He had a million contacts in his phone and people remembered him, even if they knew each other from something as small as working together on a project in a class three semesters ago. 
Meanwhile, Y/N could spend two years straight working in the same office and someone would still ask her when she started working there because she looked “new”.
(Seriously. It happened last month, and she had to rush to the bathroom to cry.)
Despite their opposing personalities, they did work for a while, but only as friends with benefits. To begin with, Y/N never wanted anything more — when they started hooking up, they were nearing their senior year of college, and she didn’t want to be tied down to anyone or anything when making decisions about her future. But secretly, she knew feelings for Harry would inevitably pop up. How could they not? Although he was an annoying ball of energy sometimes, bouncing off the walls of her apartment before they even made it to her bedroom, he was kind. He had a good heart — he still does after all these years, otherwise Y/N would never bother meeting up with him without the intention of hooking up — and he was funny, and he made Y/N feel all warm and gooey inside. He was a good fuck, too, and as much as she wanted to widdle his presence down to being purely physical, she wasn’t strong enough for that. 
She was grateful, albeit heartbroken, when six months after their arrangement began, Harry very sweetly told her he had a crush on a girl in his advanced sculpture class and wanted to go for it. As she swallowed a lump in her throat, she told him that was perfectly fine, that she was glad he told her, and that she hoped things worked out between him and Emily.
(They did. For two and a half years. Y/N had never been so thankful when graduation arrived and she could run as far away as possible from the couple.)
Harry tried his best to keep in touch, even after graduating while he was dating Emily — always commenting on her Instagram posts and responding to her stories, even occasionally texting her to wish her well on her birthday or major holidays. Y/N kept him at an arm’s length for as long as she could. That is, until he moved to her city last year.
The only reason why Y/N had a heads up is because of an Instagram story he posted. In his typical overly excited way, he posted a picture of his dog in his new apartment with one of those tacky, premade location tags. (She’s allowed to think they’re ugly — she’s a graphic designer.) So, it didn’t come as a surprise when a week or two later, a text popped up from an unknown number: Hey Y/N! Not sure if this is still your number or if you still have mine, but it’s Harry :) I just moved to your city and was wondering if we could get together! It would be great to see you.
Thus began the tradition of Harry and Y/N’s semiannual meetups. 
It was an unsaid routine they followed — every six months or so, one of them would text the other for drinks or coffee or lunch. They only ever met up in public and they didn’t talk much outside of their scheduled hangouts, though Harry was much more prone to messaging her stupid memes and, on occasion, a picture of his dog, a husky named Fish. 
Much to Y/N’s dismay, the chemistry between her and Harry was still very much there. It had been apparent from their first meetup last February. It was difficult not to flirt, especially when he brought up their past (she would happily pretend none of it ever happened if it meant Harry Styles never made her blush ever again). The thing is, though, is it was fine as long as nothing ever came of it. 
Until now. 
Because as Y/N sits across from Harry in the worn booth of a dive bar a block away from her apartment, she can’t believe she’s seriously considering letting him back in her bed.
“Can you just tell me what you think the problem is?” Harry asks. He slides his elbow onto the table and presses his knuckles up against his cheek, like they’re best friends giggling over some silly gossip. It makes Y/N want to elbow him in the ribs.
“It’s a biological issue,” she mutters, “Like I said, nothing you could fix. Even if I wanted you to.”
“Just spit it out, blossom.”
She narrows her eyes, though she finds it difficult to ignore the way her stomach flips at the familiar nickname. “You’re not allowed to call me that anymore.”
“Tell me what the issue is and I won’t call you that,” he replies easily. “C’mon, it’s me. Remember all the times I helped you pee when you were too drunk to sit up straight? We’ve definitely seen each other in more embarrassing situations before.”
Y/N sighs loudly. He has a point — there was a time where Harry knew her better than anyone else in the world. And frankly, she hasn’t talked to anyone about her problem. 
Scooching her body forward, she attempts to close most of the gap between them. Harry leans closer and she rolls her eyes. To an outsider's perspective, they probably looked like they were performing some kind of sketchy drug deal or like little girls swapping secrets at a slumber party.
“Remember how I struggled with, um… getting pretty sad?”
Harry’s eyebrows draw together and he nods. 
“Right, so it got… worse when I moved here. And I needed to find help, so I started seeing a psychiatrist who put me on antidepressants. They’ve helped a ton — I feel better, and the depression that I do feel is a lot less intense.”
“That’s great, Y/N,” he says, and she can tell he means it by the genuine tone to his voice. “What does that have to do with you not orgasming, though?”
She swallows tightly. “Well, my doctor increased my medication over the winter, and one of the side effects is…y’know. Decreased libido and whatnot.”
His eyes widen. “Oh, shit.”
“Yeah,” she snorts, leaning back against the cracked leather of the seat. “Oh, shit.”
“And you’ve tried vibrators and stuff?”
“Of course I have, I’m not an idiot.”
“So how long has it been?”
She nibbles on her bottom lip as she thinks. Even with flings that she’s had over the past few months, they all gave up at a certain point. The sex was still fun, but she was just the only one who wasn’t coming.
“Well, I can give them to myself if I… work at it,” she mumbles, folding her hands in her lap. “But with a partner? Probably… six months.”
“Six months?!”
The look on Harry’s face is dramatic and theatrical, as if she just told him she was moving halfway across the world and participating in some kind of 90 Day Fiance situation. 
“Shut. Up.” she says through grit teeth, sending him a harsh look. “I don’t need a reminder of how shitty it is.”
“Who the hell are you letting in your bed?” he demands sharply. 
“It can take me an hour, Harry, I don’t expect every person I sleep with to be that patient.”
“They should be, Y/N.”
With a shake of her head, she glances down at her phone on the table. Everything has always seemed so simple for Harry — he’s one of those people where things just come easily for him, no pun intended. A part of her wishes they never delved into the subject matter. Vulnerability somehow always bit her in the ass and this instance was no exception. 
“I’m gonna get going,” she says, pushing her empty glass to the center of the table. “Thank you for the drink, H. It was good to see you.”
His eyes soften as she begins to scooch her way out of the booth. Quickly, he throws a few bills down on the table and gets up to follow her. 
“Can I walk you out, please?” he asks, swallowing as his stomach brims with nerves. She nods, though he’s unsure if it’s a reluctant response. Silently, they leave the bar together, and he nibbles on his bottom lip as she pushes the front door open. The spring air is a welcomed breeze from the sticky interior of the establishment, and she shifts on her feet as she turns around to face him. She parts her lips as if she’s readying herself to bid him a final goodbye, but he beats her to it. 
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he says as he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his trousers. “I just meant— like, you deserve better, is all. Someone who will be patient and care to learn your body.”
Y/N nods slowly. “Right. And you’re that person.”
Her tone teeters on mocking and it sends a harsh hit straight to Harry’s chest. He shrugs.
“If you wanted me to be.”
She doesn’t reply to that, but she doesn’t make a move to leave, either. 
“I’ll think about it,” she finally says, and Harry’s eyebrows shoot up in shock. “My hand cramps up when I’ve been at it for too long. Maybe it’ll be nice to have someone else try.”
He huffs out a breathy laugh. “Just let me know and I’m there.”
. . .
A few days later, when Harry is at a friend’s house, he receives a text from Y/N: Are you free right now?
In all honesty, he’s surprised that she’s — assumingly — taking him up on his offer. Y/N remains to be one of the most stubborn people he’s ever known (one time she spent an entire week trying to put together a desk she’d purchased before asking anyone for help. The only reason why Harry was able to do it for her is because she’d called him over for a “destress fuck” and he finished it while she slept). 
He swipes down on her message, his other hand occupied by some shitty IPA Lizzy’s new boyfriend had bought. He keeps asking Harry if he likes it and he has to lie about tasting the hints of citrus, even though it tastes like every other crappy beer he’s consumed. 
At a friend’s house, he quickly types back, Why? Is your hand cramping?
He can basically feel her rolling her eyes as he bites back a smile, watching as the three dots appear to signal her impending response. 
Yes. I was wondering if you wanted to come over.
He’s unsurprised by the casual invitation on a Friday night at 9:40 p.m. (it seems that, as far as hookups go, Y/N hasn’t changed much since college). Nibbling on his bottom lip, he uses his free hand to type a response. 
I’m sorry, I would if I could. I’m trapped at this “apartment-warming” party for my friend. Apparently people host housewarmings even if they’re just renting a new place.
Y/N immediately types back: As much as I’d love to debate that with you, I’m really just looking for an orgasm. So if you’re busy, I’ll go back to buzzing at my numb clit.
Harry snorts at that before placing his beer on a coaster and excusing himself to the bathroom. Once he’s locked the door, he’s quick to pull up Y/N’s contact and press the pad of his thumb to her number. 
“Hello?”
She sounds confused and frustrated when she answers and Harry smirks at that.
“Hey,” he greets, leaning back against the white porcelain sink. “I’m calling about your orgasm.”
“You’re seriously not trying to have phone sex with me right now.” 
Her tone is as deadpan as it gets, and the monotone nature is enough to make a small bit of insecurity crawl into Harry’s stomach. 
“Well, I was planning on talking you through it. ‘S not really phone sex if only one person’s getting off, I think.”
She lets out a noisy sigh and there’s some rustling on the other side. He waits for her response and is surprised when she agrees. 
“Fine,” she huffs, and he can envision the way her eyebrow raises just slightly when she’s decided to give into something, “Let’s give it a try. Porn is getting boring anyway.”
“What were you watching?”
“Well, when you’ve been trying to come for 40 minutes, you end up in some… odd places,” she says. “I started out with lesbian porn, then found my way into threesomes, and somehow I ended up at double penetration.”
“Ah,” Harry nods, “Sounds like you’re having some sort of craving for group sex, then?” 
A pause. And then: “I guess. I’ve never tried it, I just think it’s hot.”
“What’s hot about it for you?”
He thinks he hears her swallow, but he can’t be completely sure. 
“I just like the idea of pleasing more than one person. I think that’s how I got to double penetration stuff.”
“Oh, I see. You want to be used.”
It’s blunt and it’s to the point, but he’s not wrong — he knows he’s not, because he slept with her for six months straight.
“I guess,” she replies non-committedly, “I guess it’s like… a fantasy of getting two people off and them feeling that way because of me. Through oral or… being inside of me, or whatever.”
“So what’s your threesome fantasy, then?” Harry pushes, though his tone teeters are near carelessness at this point, “Girl/boy? Boy/boy? Maybe it doesn’t matter. Who do you want to be between?”
Y/N exhales shakily, “I’ve never thought about it.” 
“Well, now you are.”
She doesn’t immediately reply, but he knows she responds well to the calloused persona he suddenly obtains. She’s always been this way — submissive and good, always looking to please him intimately. It’s too easy for him to put the pieces together and solve the puzzle.
“I guess I like the idea of being with two guys, but it doesn’t matter much to me.” she eventually decides.
“Okay. And in your deepest fantasies, what are these two men doing to you?”
Another pause, though he thinks he hears a shuttered sigh on the line. He doesn’t mention it — not yet at least.
“Maybe… maybe one’s inside of me and the other one’s in my mouth.”
“And how is he fucking you? Is he on top of you, missionary style, or are you on your hands and knees while he fucks you from behind?”
A breathy whimper departs Y/N’s lips and this time it’s loud enough for both of them to hear. He smirks at the sound of it. 
“I like the idea of him behind me. A-and the other one fucking my mouth.”
Harry hums, almost as if he’s praising her. “Close your eyes and envision it, then. Think about how you’re letting two men take advantage of you and use your body, just so they can get off. One’s fucking into you from behind, spanking your ass and grabbing your hips like you’re just some kind of toy to him. And the other one is thrusting deep into your mouth, making you choke, getting you all drooly for him. You’re nothing but a set of holes for them, honey. Isn’t that sweet?”
On the other line, all Harry hears is a series of shattered moans and low curses. Even though it’s been years, he can imagine the way her muscles are all tensed up, her pussy clenching around a dildo or her fingers. He wishes he would’ve asked so he could envision it, too.
“I-I think I’m gonna cum,” she whimpers out, and Harry palms himself through his trousers at the sound of her high-pitched mewls. 
“There you go, blossom. Atta girl, just let go. ‘S easy, let it go for me,” his voice is a near coo and it makes Y/N’s eyes roll back into her skull. It’s like he knows how easy it is for her brain to ping pong to other far less sexier thoughts — like the dirty plates in the dishwasher or the unfolded laundry in the corner of her bedroom — so he continues crooning through the receiver, his low, soft voice guiding her through every bump and ridge of her impending orgasm. 
When she comes, she comes hard, considering it’s been a solid two weeks since she’s been able to give herself an orgasm. It shoots through her entire body and, even with her eyes shut tight, the fantasy she created still plays through her brain — except now, it’s not two mystery men. Now, it’s just Harry fucking into her, all tan muscles and sweat pearling at his hairline. 
She’s boneless and exhausted when she finishes, her throat dry from the involuntary moans she let go. She only remembers she’s still on the phone with Harry when she hears him clear his throat, followed by a call of her name. 
“Hey, sorry,” she mumbles as her cheeks flush a deep red hue, “T-that was good. Thank you.”
“Yeah? You finished?”
If she had more energy, she would roll her eyes. Of course she finished. The entire neighborhood knows she finished.
“Yeah.” she mutters shortly. “Have a good time at your apartment-warming party.”
Harry huffs a laugh, “Yeah, ‘cos that’s what I’ll be thinking about for the rest of the night.”
She doesn’t have a chance to ask him what he means before he’s bidding her goodbye: “Let me know when you wanna do this again. I’m around this weekend.”
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freelancearsonist · 2 days
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the mark they saw on my collarbone
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➔ post-outbreak Joel Miller x afab!Reader // series masterlist
➔ 4.4k words
➔ Joel’s instincts kick in when he runs into an omega in trouble along a smuggling route.
➔ Rated MA // a/b/o dynamics and the associated gender politics (alpha!joel and omega!reader), heavy dom/sub dynamics, unprotected piv sex, creampie, fingering, oral (reader receiving), biting/marking, blood, size kink, joel calls reader little one/little thing, mention of reader being food-insecure, alpha!tommy and alpha!tess are here briefly. takes place one year post-outbreak.
➔ this reader insert character: has female anatomy, no pronouns used, is generally able-bodied, is mentioned to be smaller/shorter than joel and can fit into his jacket, is otherwise a blank slate.
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Tess’s face perks up halfway over a fallen tree–she stops in her tracks to tilt her nose into the wind. “You smell that?”
Of course Joel smells it. His senses were alerted to it about half a mile ago; he’s always had the better nose. He’s been trying to ignore it, however. There’s no point to giving into temptation in this shattered world, no matter how sweet the scent.
“Whew,” Tommy huffs, wrinkling his nose at the heavy pheromones that now drift around the trio. “Whoever it is, they’re closer than comfortable.”
“Smells like they’re in trouble,” Tess posits–always the thoughtful one. Always wanting to have faith in humanity, no matter how many reasons the last year has given her to lose hope. “That’s an omega. If not in full out heat, then damn near close to it.”
“Ain’t no way there’s an omega out on their own in these woods,” Joel growls. “It’s a trap.”
Tess shoots him a look–worried, stern. “What if it’s not?”
“It is.” He doesn’t even entertain the idea. There’s no way anything is left untainted in this world.
But with every step forward, the scent gets stronger and Joel’s resolve grows weaker. Your scent is so sweet. It reminds him of springtime in Austin, the little yellow sour grass buds and picnics in the park with…
The scar on his temple gives a single little throb, and he forces himself to focus up. They’ve got a clear destination, a contact to meet outside the Atlanta QZ. He needs to keep his head in the game and out of the past. Dwelling on that, on what the world was merely a year ago, is fucking pointless. No matter how much he hopes, how much he dreams, how much he begs and pleads to a god he never really believed in to begin with, nothing brings her back.
The scent makes his stomach churn the stronger it gets. It’s not like any omega he’s ever known before. They’ve all been… a little bitter. Or maybe his ex just left a tainted trace in his nose, spoiled it for everyone else. He’s never needed a partner to feel complete, anyway. Being a father is what gives him purpose. Gave him purpose.
He pushes that train of thought from mind, sets his jaw, and marches on.
The funny thing is, they’ve spent a lot of time in these woods–Tess, Tommy, and him. For as close to the QZ as it is, they’ve never met a single other soul in these parts.
That’s why, when Joel senses your pheromones only getting stronger as they forge on, he thinks about saying something. They’re headed straight towards you, into what must be a trap. The Atlanta QZ doesn’t take omegas; there’s no reason one should be so close. If he was smart, he’d make sure that the group avoids you at all costs. But there’s a deep, primal part of him that forces him to keep his mouth shut just as he’s about to open it and suggest rerouting their journey. He wants to investigate, to find out if you’re really as sweet as you smell.
He can tell Tommy and Tess are thinking along the same lines, and it makes his teeth grit together, eyes pinched in frustration. There’s an underlying possessiveness in every further stride he takes, eyes boring into the backs of his pack members’ heads while he takes position at the rear of the group.
This is why people used to say that alphas couldn’t work together, he realizes. Not that it’s ever been an issue for him before–but he’s never smelled an omega he’s wanted so much before, either. Tommy was always the tail-chaser, before everything went to shit; he was constantly getting himself into trouble, and Joel would constantly bail him out. And Tess… he’s never met an alpha quite like her. He’s never seen her with an omega, either; never bothered asking if she had one before the outbreak. But she’s compassionate, if a bit tough. She doesn’t seem like the main threat right now.
This is what he’s always hated about these god-forsaken roles. He watches Tommy’s pace pick up a little, sees the younger Miller’s nose tilt ever-so-slightly to the wind, and in this moment he sees his own brother as a threat. That’s something that should never have had to happen. But a pack of three, and all alphas… it was bound to happen sooner or later. Maybe they’ve all been fooling themselves.
It’s been great for them thus far, being able to use each other when necessary without fear of repercussions, but there also hasn’t been an omega in the picture yet. Now, with heavy pheromones swirling invisibly between the three of them, a subtle and silent struggle for dominance starts to rear its ugly head.
The scent only grows stronger, and it makes Joel worry. It’s heady, damn near overwhelming. Joel’s never witnessed an omega so close to heat without actually being in heat. The pull of your pheromones is dangerous–it’ll draw in every alpha within a range of miles, maybe even some from the QZ with how close you are. The range will only grow once your heat actually breaks out. The pack is heading directly towards the source of great danger, and all three of them know it. Even still, all three of them are powerless to stop it.
Joel spots you first. You’re nestled under a tree, sound asleep, half-camouflaged by a blanket of orange and brown leaves. You’re gorgeous, there’s no other way to describe you, and with your pheromones flooding his senses it’s nearly impossible for him to hold back from approaching you.
He reaches out a quick hand and grabs his brother’s arm just as he’s about to step towards you.
“Don’t,” Joel growls from deep in his chest. His eyes dart around quickly, searching every inch of autumn foliage for some sign of the trap this must be. They’ve heard about this exact kind of trap before, and Joel mentally curses himself for falling right into it despite knowing better.
Hardly any unmarked omegas survived outbreak day. Many of the few that did were captured by large groups of malicious betas and put into traps, their heats used to lure in alphas who were then exterminated en masse. Joel and his pack have been lucky not to encounter such a trap yet, but everyone’s luck runs out eventually.
They stand, they watch you, and they wait for the other boot to drop.
But it doesn’t. You sleep peacefully, albeit squirming a little bit, and no one else comes. There’s nothing but the sound of birds chirping in the distance and wind rustling the bare branches of the trees overhead.
All of a sudden, you wake. Your entire body jolts, nostrils flaring at the heavy and suddenly overwhelming scent of alpha. Your beautiful eyes widen with fear, and Joel sees you're about to make a break for it.
Without thinking, he steps forward and holds a hand out in front of him–a sign of goodwill. “Easy, omega. We ain’t gonna hurtcha.”
Your chest heaves with panting breaths, but you don’t move yet. You’re smart, he thinks. You know you can’t outrun all three of them.
“You’re in a spot a’trouble,” Joel continues, trying to make his voice as gentle as possible as he takes another tiny step closer to you. “Could smell your heat comin’ on from miles away. What’s a li’l thing like you doin’ out in the woods all alone?”
“Going to the QZ.” There’s a firmness behind your tone–how brave you are, he thinks. And how stupid. 
“Where you comin’ from?” He asks–prying, but gently.
You look apprehensive, but you answer anyway. “Tennessee.”
“Didn’t do your research, did you sweetheart?” He grumbles as gently as he can. “Atlanta don’t take omegas. You go there, ‘specially in the state you’re in, you’ll be shot on sight.”
He can almost see the gears turning in your head, albeit slowly given your state; you’re wondering if he’s really telling the truth, if you can really trust him. You’re wondering why he hasn’t leaped at you yet.
You gulp and plant your hands in the dirt at your sides as if you’re getting ready to stand, but you don’t move yet.
Tommy takes a quick step forward, and Joel sees the way you flinch at the sharp crack of a twig underneath the younger Miller’s boot.
“Joel–”
“Shut the fuck up,” he growls, a little harsher than he means to. “Don’t you fuckin’ move, Tommy. I mean it.”
“Please don’t hurt me,” you whisper, hardly louder than the breeze. And then he sees it–the first pang of heat, your face screwing up in pain and your body squirming uncomfortably on the forest floor. You try not to show it, but Joel catches it anyway. Your heat is here, and his instincts take over.
“Fuck off,” he snarls, stepping firmly between Tommy and you. Tess steps forward, mouth agape in some mixture of shock and confusion, and Joel swivels his burning gaze to her. “Both of you. Fuck off. Go on ahead to Atlanta, I’ll meet up with you there.”
Tess doesn’t look affected, just concerned. “Joel, what the–”
“Go!” He roars. There’s no room for argument, even though Tommy opens his mouth like he might try. In the end, they know there’s no winning. Not right now, not with Joel’s pheromones rising and his eyes so dark. They hesitate just a moment, slowly back away, and then finally admit defeat and vanish into the trees.
Once they’re gone, you don’t try to hide your pain as much. A whimper escapes your lips as you squeeze your thighs together and all pretense falls away.
“You okay, little one?” He drops to his knees beside you so he can give you a better look. It’s clear that the road you’ve traveled has not been easy on you–he’s amazed you’ve survived as long as you have all on your own. You’re disheveled and dirty, maybe even worse off than he is. You look like you haven’t eaten in days, and the simple t-shirt covering you isn’t nearly warm enough to protect you from the chill riding in on the late autumn breeze.
Joel’s quick to rip his jacket off and drape it around your trembling shoulders–he feels a strange surge of pride when you quickly pull the fabric tightly around you and nuzzle your face into the collar for a deep inhale of his scent.
“Talk to me, omega.” His voice is deep, demanding. “You doin’ okay? What can I do to help?”
“Alpha…” Your voice is so quiet, and all he wants is to take you into his arms. But now of all times is not the time to be hasty. As much as he wants you, he refuses to take advantage of you.
“It hurts, alpha,” you continue quietly.
“I know, baby.” The sweet ting of southern accent in his voice seeps into your very veins and warms you from head to toe with each rapid thump of your heart. “How can I help?”
You reach a shaky hand towards him and he meets you halfway, marveling at how small your hand is compared to his paw. He never really considered himself a big guy until this moment, seeing you so small and helpless beside him. Clearly it’s affecting you too–he sees the way your thighs clench tightly together the second he touches you.
“I trust you,” you murmur so sweetly.
For a moment, he considers running. He’s done horrible things with the hands that now hold you so gently. He’s not one to be trusted. He’ll only end up hurting you.
“Your scent’s gonna draw more alphas in, baby,” he coos deeply. “There’s a whole QZ fullav’em just a couple miles away. It ain’t safe to be out in the open like this.”
But there’s no logic or reason left in your gaze–you nuzzle your face into his neck so you can inhale his scent straight from the source, and Joel knows there’s only one way this ends without some worse alpha coming along and hurting or killing you.
“Need you, alpha,” you plead as shiny tears fill your pretty eyes. “Please, it hurts so bad.”
Joel wonders if this is your first heat–it sure seems like it. You’ve probably been on suppressants since the day you presented. Every bone in his body screams for you; screams to take your pain away, to soothe you with his own body, to make you his.
He’s never felt so much like an alpha as he does in this moment, when your heat gets the better of you and you fuze your mouth to his in a searing kiss.
Joel actually moans into your mouth. It’s deep and a little louder than he means to be, caught off guard by the suddenness of the kiss but even more by how sweet you taste. Your scent didn’t do you justice, really. He’s never gotten addicted to someone from their kiss alone before, and yet just as suddenly as it started he needs more. He needs to devour you whole, to claim every inch of you until there’s nothing left for anyone else. Even as he licks into your mouth and easily takes control of your mouth with his tongue, he knows this is going to end badly. He also knows that he doesn’t care.
“Sweet little thing,” he coos as he tugs you to straddle his lap. You can feel the insistent press of his hardening bulge against your core, and you grind down so hard he hisses. “Easy baby, I gotcha.”
“Alpha, please…”
“Gotta have some patience, omega,” he tells you firmly. “I’ll take care’a ya, but I gotta getcha ready first. Don’t wanna hurtcha.”
You kind of want it to hurt, you kind of want him to burn himself into your very soul, but you don’t say as much out loud. You probably couldn’t form the words anyway–all that comes from your mouth is a needy little whimper.
“Hush, omega, you’re okay,” he whispers into your ear as he lays you back against the fallen leaves, one hand carefully cushioning your head while the other pulls your thigh open so he can slot himself between your legs. “M’gonna make it all better, just gotta be good f’me.”
“Alpha…” You feel the first ounce of relief as he drags your jeans and underwear down your legs in one smooth motion. Your burning skin is met with cool air and it feels incredible. Nearly as incredible as the sensation of his kisses tracing down your body, even through the fabric of your t-shirt that he leaves in place because he doesn’t want you getting cold no matter how much it feels like you might spontaneously combust if you don’t feel him inside you soon.
“You’re gonna be good for me, arentcha?” He hums against the hem of your t-shirt, just above where you so desperately need him.
“Yes, alpha,” you breathe as politely as you can manage.
His lips latch onto your clit as soon as the words have left your mouth. He knows exactly what you need–none of that torturous rapid flicking that you’ve experienced in the past but firm, honest-to-god, get-the-job-done suction.
He slips a finger into your dripping entrance and it’s honestly amazing that you don’t come right on the spot. Just that one thick finger is a stretch–it makes you arch your hips up off the ground, desperate to get away from the onslaught of pleasure and yet simultaneously wanting more.
“I know, sweetie,” he coos against your clit, slowly curling his finger until he finds the spot that makes your thighs tremble. “Feels good, doesn’it?”
“Y-yes, oh my–”
He throws all pretense out the window and adds two more fingers, filling you to your breaking point. You shatter without warning as he increases the pressure on your clit, thighs quivering and hips bucking pathetically as your warmth coats his chin. Your entire body wracks as he works you through it, fingers curling against your g-spot as his lips mercifully release your clit with an obscene pop.
“That’s right, baby,” he coos proudly. “So good f’me.”
You’re panting as you come down, satisfied for one beautiful moment even as he pulls his fingers from you so he can kiss his way back up to your mouth.
He slots between your legs so he can lick into your mouth again, and the taste of your own pleasure on his tongue makes everything come crashing back down. Your cunt clenches hard around nothing, and you groan out in pain and need for him.
He grunts when your legs lock around his sturdy waist, feet pressing into his ass to grind his heavy, jean-clad cock into your soaked folds. He moans from the very pit of his stomach, surprised at the sudden movement–and then he presses even harder, grinding himself so firmly against your cunt that you swear you can feel the outline of his mushroom head even through the layers of clothing he still wears.
“Tell me you want this, omega,” he pants into your ear, still pressed so tightly to you as he reaches down to tug his belt open. “Tell me to fuck you.”
“Please, alpha.” You’re trying so hard not to sound whiny, but you’re failing miserably. “Please fuck me.”
Joel simply adores how sweetly you ask for what you need. God, he doesn’t even know your name, but it’s taking everything in him not to claim you for the rest of eternity.
Would that really be so bad? Clearly you’re a survivor if you’ve made it this far, and as an omega no less. You could be a valuable addition to the pack.
But really, it’s the thought of having you as a home to come back to that gets him tugging his cock out of his jeans to the symphony of your quiet moans and pleas. He thinks about having a lovingly-crafted nest and the sweetest, tightest cunt he’s ever known waiting for him at the end of a long day, and it takes everything in him not to blow his load right then and there.
He knows he doesn’t deserve this, but he’s willing to be selfish anyway. Just this once.
“Holy shit,” you gasp when you look down and see the firm length of him, barely contained in his big hand. He’s thick and weeping precum, tip stained a dark maroon from sitting in his jeans untouched this long. He’s nothing like the betas you entertained yourself with before the outbreak–you’ve never even really seen an alpha’s cock in person, and certainly none this large.
He must see the apprehension in your gaze, because he takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger so he can raise your face to meet his dark, brooding eyes. “You tell me if it hurts, okay? Don’t wanna hurt you, wanna help you feel better.”
You don’t know why, but you trust him. So you nod, and you tug him into a deep kiss.
The first press of him into your waiting core has your mouth dropping open, head pressing back into the hand that cups the back of your head. He keeps you pressed so firmly against his entire body as he inches in. He’s so attentive, pulling back to watch your face for any sign of discomfort as he rocks his hips, pushing an inch deeper with every shallow thrust until the base of him settles as tightly against you as he can.
He doesn’t find anything in your expression other than pure euphoria.
He kisses you, breathless and messy, as he wills himself to stay still while fully sheathed in your tight heat. Damn it all, he’s fighting so hard for control. He’s never had someone squeeze him so perfectly, so warmly. Your cunt is pure, unadulterated heaven.
“A-alpha,” you whine once you’re ready, but he can’t move. Not yet. You’re his omega, he needs to take care of you, and he’s far too close to spilling himself deep inside your cunt and pressing even deeper so his knot can take root. He could never live with himself if he disappointed you like that.
“Please, alpha,” you try again, and the unrelenting need is what does him in. You need him, not just anyone. No one else could satisfy you how he does–he’s sure of it.
With the first true thrust of his hips, a wave of pheromones rushes over his senses. He basks in the scent of you, nearly high on it, and then the danger of this comes crashing back to him.
He thrusts deep, makes your toes curl and your chest heave, and he asks a weighted question as the pace continues. “This your first heat?”
You nod your head, barely even able to process his words. “R-ran out of s-suppressants.”
Fuck. He knew it. You don’t even seem to realize the danger, the calling card that you’re putting on display for every alpha within a ten mile radius. It’s a miracle that no one has shown up–everyone in Atlanta is probably wise to the trap scheme, luckily. But luck runs out eventually, and someone’s going to end up taking a chance for your delectable scent.
“Others’re gonna smell you, omega,” he growls as he grinds deep. “Ain’t safe to be unmarked out here. They’ll come f’ya.”
The pleasure is unbearable–toe-curling, blood-boiling, thigh-quaking. All you can do is sob and whine as his big cock fucks into you and hits exactly the right spot with every thrust.
“Gotta mark ya,” he continues quietly. “Only way to keep you safe, baby.”
You come out of your reverie a little bit at that; but deep down, you know he’s right. The only way you’ve been able to survive so long was a stockpile of suppressants you were lucky enough to get your hands on. But they’re gone, and with them your chances of surviving much longer. Unless you let this stranger mark you–the most intimate gesture possible.
“Okay,” you breathe against his neck. “Mark me.”
Your cunt clenches unbearably tight around his shaft as his teeth dig sharply into the base of your neck. Your taste floods his mouth, heady and warm–in combination with your legs locked around his waist, he can’t stop it. He’s coming before he can warn you, hot ropes of seed coating every inch of you, seemingly endless. And then, without thinking, he presses that little bit deeper so his knot can fill you to your limit.
You sob at the sensation, nails digging into his shirt-clad back in a feeble attempt to tamp down the overload of pleasure at the sudden stretch of his thick knot in your tight cunt.
“Fuckfuckfuck–” he growls into your bitten neck, grinding himself as deep as he can as his cock pulses within your tight walls. “Oh fuck omega, I’m sorry–”
You hush him to the best of your breathless ability as your hands smooth through his sweaty brown hair and down over his shoulders. “It’s okay. It’s okay, alpha. You made it so much better.”
There’s a long moment of silence, Joel’s mind swirling with so many thoughts that he can’t focus on a single one. You coax him through it silently, hands smoothing over the fabric of his shirt as your breathing slowly comes.
You’ve never felt so full, so complete. His scent surrounds you and fills you; nothing has ever felt quite so right.
You realize vaguely that he’s licking the blood from the teeth marks on your neck, and you think now’s as good a time as any to give him your name.
He looks up at you, confused for a moment, and then a warm laugh bubbles from his throat. God, he can’t remember the last time he actually laughed. What are you doing to him?
“Joel Miller,” he introduces himself back. “M’sorry, I shoulda started with that.”
His arms are getting shaky from supporting his weight above you, so he grabs firmly onto your waist and rolls smoothly onto his back with you rested snugly against his chest.
“M’sorry,” he repeats again as he feels his swollen knot pulse within you at the slight movement of your hips. “I meant to pull out, I–”
“I wanted it,” you tell him. “I wouldn’t let you. I’m sorry too.”
He gulps, nods once as a hand idly comes up to cradle your head. “I’ve got a guy in the QZ. He can get us a pill. But we’ve gotta be more careful next time.”
“Next time?”
“That was just the first round, baby,” he explains quietly. “Heats can last days, even a week. You’ll need a lot more care ‘fore it’s over.”
“Oh.” You feel so dumb, getting your education from someone whose knot is currently swollen inside you.
“We’ll get a pill,” he promises. “And I’ll pull out next time.”
“You’re… not leaving?” You’ve tried so hard not to have any false pretenses about this. You figured from the get go that he’d leave as soon as his knot went down and you’d never see him again.
He sighs heavily and runs a hand over the patchy brown hair on his chin. “Look, I… you met the rest’a my pack earlier, sorta. There’s just the three of us. We’re not good people, but… we’ll keep you safe. And you seem like you’re able to earn your keep.”
“I am,” you’re quick to assert.
“And I’ve marked you,” he adds. “Can’t just leave ya out here to fend for yourself. You’re my omega now.”
You don’t know why, but the words make your heart flutter.
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You and Joel catch up to Tommy and Tess at the edge of the QZ, just in time for the meeting with their contact. Joel had explained to you on the way that it was an old acquaintance, a guy they’d met in Texas shortly after the outbreak who they’d worked with for a few months before he joined up with FEDRA. Now he sneaks supplies out to them in exchange for rarities from the other QZs.
That’s what the pack does, Joel had explained. They’re smugglers–they distribute things illegally between all the different continental quarantine zones.
Tommy and Tess see the two of you coming, and they’re instantly on guard. It only gets worse when Tommy recognizes the brown leather jacket wrapped tightly around your torso to shield you from the breeze.
“Joel.”
Joel tries to ignore Tommy’s call, but there’s not much he can do.
“Joel, what the fuck’ve you done?”
Joel supposes Tommy’s outrage is justified, but he shields you from it anyway. Truth be told, he doesn’t rightly know just what he’s gotten himself into with you.
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theyluvkarolina · 4 hours
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heyy!!!
can i request lando x volleyball girlie who did vb for two years but has to quit because of a knee injury please? feel free to ignore if this doesn't spark anything!!
𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 (𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓)
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· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑ ` ` it’s giving oikawa from haikyuu ` ` ⊹ ‧₊˚
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ୨୧ Volleyball was all you ever known, and everything was looking up in your career, until an injury. Luckily, your boyfriend is there to hope you cope and get better.
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ୨୧ Lando Norris x Volleyball!Fem!Reader
𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌: Maddie Madayag (for volleyball photos)
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ୨୧ mentions of a injury but nothing severe.
𝐀/𝐍 ୨୧ tysm for the request! I decided to do my own little spin on this with making this a bit more of a crack fic but definitely kept the volleyball and knee injury! Also, this is pretty short! I’m so sorry with the length of this, but i really liked this request and wanted to do it! I hope you enjoy it 🩶 I’ve had my fair share of injuries that led me to quit what i loved, so the fic kinda hits hard for me 🥹 i used to play football/soccer growing up until i pulled my back muscle in my 9th year of school and wasn’t able to play the same ever again, injuries suck 👎
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Twitter
(PS: Date on photo does not matter, fic happens between Aus and Japan GP!)
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Instagram
y/n_volleys posted a story 3 minutes ago!
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username, landonorris, username and other replied to your story!
username1 MISS GIRL.
username2 OMG 😭😭
username3 HELLO??? NOT THE ACL
username4 we’re cooked 😞😞
landonorris THIS IS HOW I FIND OUT YOU INJURED YOURSELF??? landonorris HOLD ON landonorris I’M NOT MESSAGING YOU THROUGH INSTAGRAM DMS. landonorris OPEN MY MESSAGES.
iMessages
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y/n_volleys ✔︎
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liked by landonorris, lilymunihe, alexalbon, and others
y/n_volleys success!! surgery went well. heartbroken to be going out like this especially before the olympics but i will be coming back stronger 💪 time to take some time to myself 🫶
3,214 comments
landonorris ✔︎ whatever you do don’t move out of bed before i get home
landonorris ✔︎ drink water
landonorris ✔︎ get sleep
landonorris ✔︎ enjoy your cookie ice cream thing
landonorris ✔︎ don’t exercise too much
→ y/n_volleys ✔︎ lando are you my bf or my mom? → landonorris ✔︎ right now i’m being a caring boyfriend 🤨🤨 im sorry i love you 😒 → username5 i want to have love like this. → username6 google, how do i find a bf that cares about me, has a good job, is funny, kind, and loves me more than the world? 🧑‍💻 → lilymunihe ✔︎ @ alexalbon why aren’t you like this with me → alexalbon ✔︎ i literally already am 😕😕 → lilymunihe ✔︎ i don’t see my cookies and ice cream in a mug.
username7 the leg injury is giving oikawa from haikyu
→ y/n_volleys ✔︎ …no… no.. NO DON’T TAKE ME BACK TO 2020 → username8 Y/N IS GETTING WAR FLASHBACKS
iMessages
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y/n_volleys posted a story 24 minutes ago!
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lilymunihe, username, username and other replied to your story!
username9 ZOO WEE MAMA 😍 → y/n_volleys that’s my bf 😍😍
username10 GIRL DID YOU HAVE TO POST THIS → y/n_volleys I NEED TO SHOW PEOPLE WHAT THEY ARE MISSING 😣😣
lilymunihe ✔︎ GIRL WHAT ABOUT THE KIDS HERE → y/n_volleys ✔︎ girl fuck them kids 🗣️ ‼️
y/n_volleys ✔︎
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liked by landonorris, bsf_username, lailahasanovic and others
y/n_volleys get yourself a bf who takes care of you after tearing you leg apart 🩷
tagged ; landonorris
3,245 comments
username11 they are actually so cute
username12 dumping my bf if he doesn’t do this more me.
oscarpiastri ✔︎what a caption!
→ y/n_volleys ✔︎ do you want it in full detail → oscarpiastri ✔︎ no.
carlosainz55 ✔︎ did lando ever finish that puzzle?
→ y/n_volleys ✔︎ he did finish it → carlosainz55 ✔︎ …did? → y/n_volleys ✔︎ yeah it was finished BEFORE HE DROPPED IT ON THE FLOOR TRYING TO MOVE IT → landonorris ✔︎ I SAID I WAS SORRY. → y/n_volleys ✔︎ you left your injured gf to clean up the mess 😞😞 → maxfewtrell ✔︎ wooowww lando… @ landonorris → oscarpiastri ✔︎ what a gentleman @ landonorris → carlosainz55 ✔︎ntsk tsk… @ landonorris ��� maxverstappen1 ✔︎ some boyfriend you are @ landonorris → landonorris ✔︎ LEAVE ME ALONE I WENT TO GO GET THE BROOM → username13 it’s not a good day if y/n and lando fight with each other (lovingly)
lando.jpeg ✔︎
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liked by y/n_volleys, carlosainz55, oscarpisatri and others
lando.jpeg gf appreciation post (pre injury photo included 😱)
2,571 comments
y/n_volleys ✔︎ last photo makes this feel like a facebook mom post
y/n_volleys ✔︎ i want to kiss you rn 🥹 i love you so much 🧡
→ lando.jpeg you are literally in the bed next to me rn turn over and kiss me on my hot mouth. i’m feeling romantical → oscarpiastri ✔︎ what did i just read. → y/n_volleys ✔︎ shakespeare 😍
username14 not them playing minecraft together :((
→ username15 but the real question is… did they put their beds next to each other? → y/n_volleys ✔︎ wooooahhhh what kind of unholy person do you think i am??? → lando.jpeg ✔︎ we aren’t insane 🙄 🙄
username16 i wish i was y/n
→ username17 fuck being y/n i want to be lando he has a amzing woman as his gf.
y/n_volleys ✔︎
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liked by landonorris, usavwnt and others
y/n_volleys different from my other posts… but I wanted to give a big thank you to all the fans, my family, and friends for the nonstop support for me and overcoming thi injury. I can’t wait to be back in rehab training for you all to see me back on the court 🩷 lots of love!! 🥹
3,501 comments
usavwnt ✔︎ glad to see you improve and get better! see you back on the court!! 💪
Liked by y/n_volleys!
username18 not the free feet pics 😣😣
username19 y/n and lando are such cutie
username20 i’m so happy to see her get the support she needs ❤️‍🩹
landnorris ✔︎ and where is my shout out and tag???
→ y/n_volleys ✔︎ i’d also love to give a big shout out to my amazing, brunet, curly haired, British, born in Bristol boyfriend, who lives in Monaco and treats me like a princess, and is the kindest, sweetest, funniest man I’ve ever met in my life who also happens to be a f1 driver ❤️ → landnorris ✔︎ much better 😋😋 → oscarpiastri ✔︎ aw (i’m going to throw up if you keep kissing in the garage) → y/n_volleys ✔︎ ..oscar… I thought we agreed to keep that between us three… → oscarpiastri ✔︎ whoops → username21 bro outed them and said “whoops” 💀💀
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imfinereallyy · 1 day
Text
I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) pt. 3
a nice long update for ya ♡ part 1 part 2
cw: internalized homophobia and projecting internalized homophobia (from an oc)
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
June 1996, Chicago
Steve's first steps into his living room are not met with silence and sunshine; in fact, he is met with two surprises.
The first being Eddie Munson still in his apartment.
Steve rubs the tired out of his eyes, squishing his palm into his lids in hopes of shaking out a morning delusion. He is proven unsuccessful..
His second surprise is that Eddie is awake, staring at Steve in high alert, blankets folded neatly (he must have scrounged around for them in the night, not that Steve minds), sitting patiently as if he has been waiting for hours for Steve's arrival.
If the second surprise hadn't happened, Steve might have excused the first. See, Eddie, in all the years he had known him, had been anything but an early riser, usually choosing to sleep the day away. So if he had been asleep still, Steve might have let him being in his apartment slide.
Steve ponders how he doesn't really know Eddie anymore, so he shouldn't actually be surprised.
Eddie clears his throat, "So, how about that talk?"
Steve has to resist shutting his eyes to relish in the sound of Eddie's deep timbre. His voice has grown scratchy over the years—from singing or cigarettes, Steve can't be sure. It feels like coming home, either way, to have his voice brush over him.
Instead, Steve clears his throat back. "Don't have time; maybe try again in another five years." He moves to the kitchen to start making their morning drinks—hot coffee with cream for Robin and an iced dirty chai for Steve.
When Dustin had been working at a cafe back when he was in college, he made Steve try all of their new drinks. Surprisingly his favorite became a dirty chai—something which Robin finds hilarious.
Steve grabs the chipped green mug from the cabinet and begins pouring Robin's coffee. It had already been hot and ready in the pot, which probably meant Eddie had prepped it for him. Steve doesn't comment.
Eddie huffs through his nose, "C'mon Stevi—Steve. It's ten in the morning on a Saturday. You can't tell me you're busy right now."
Steve has to resist slamming Robin's mug down on the counter, already having being put together after the 1994 incident, he doesn't want to face her wrath.
Gently placing it on the counter, Steve turns. "Actually, I have somewhere to be at twelve, not that you need to know that. And don't act like you know what's going on in my life, Munson."
Eddie smiles, a little laugh escapes him. God, it is like a fucking drug after years of being sober that laugh. Steve wants to beg him for another hit, even though he knows it's bad for him.
With the smile never leaving his face, Eddie raises his hands. "Okay, okay. You're right."
"Why are you smiling? This isn't funny." Steve huffs.
Eddie's face softens, "Sorry, just even though you're mad at me. You're talking to me, and shit, sweetheart. I would take that over silence any day. It's nice to hear your voice."
Steve has to force himself to keep his shoulders tense, wanting to sag into Eddie. He's still mad at him, furious even. But some part of him agrees deep down, this is nice.
He can never let Eddie know that.
"Fuck off, Munson. I have shit to do. I'm sure you're too busy anyway."
Eddie shakes his head, hair falling in front of his face. "No, trust me I have nothing else going on. The band is on hiatus. And even if we weren't, trust me when I say this is exactly where I am supposed to be right now."
Steve can't help the snort that comes out of him, "Funny you're asking me to trust you, asshole. That went out the door with your bags five years ago."
Eddie flinches back, "Okay, I deserve that one."
Steve doesn't mention to Eddie how he knows his band has been on hiatus for over a year now. How he's kept up on the band, even after Eddie left. How he is curious why they went on hiatus at all, they have two successful albums, and supposedly were working on their third, when suddenly they all decided it was time for a break.
Peak of their career, and they chose silence. Normally, a horrible career move, but it seems it makes the rock community want them even more.
Steve can understand that partially. When it comes to Eddie, you can't help but want more, even when he disappears without a trace.
"I got to go get ready. Seriously, Munson. I know you think I don't mean it when I say leave. I think you're stuck on the Steve from five years ago, and how the Steve from then wouldn't really mean it. But this is the Steve now. And Steve from now means it when he says, get the fuck out. Go find someone else who could actually use your presence, like Dustin. God knows the kid deserves a phone call."
Eddie opens his mouth to protest, but doesn't get to chance to say his peace, Steve's already on his way back to his bedroom with their drinks in hand.
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
Steve is running late.
It's not his fault, he has a fucking ghost haunting his living room, and it takes him ten times longer to work around it. Robin tells him to cancel his lunch, but Steve doesn't, even though she's right.
Robin's always right.
Steve can't help but feel a little smug when thinking back to leaving his apartment, though. He looks good, wearing his nicest Levi's and soft white button-up. Steve had made sure to keep the top few buttons undone, showing off his gold necklaces that landed perfectly on his exposed chest hair.
For Drew, of course, not for Eddie.
Still, Steve knows he looks good. So when he leaves his apartment and Eddie doesn't even bother to try to talk to him again because he is just too busy staring at Steve.
Steve makes it to the restaurant only five minutes late. It would have been on time if it had been in his athletic prime.
Resturant, Steve realizes, is a bit of a stretch. It appears to be a cafe--but not one of those cozy ones with crazy colors and a fun name. No, this cafe is incredibly fancy. Everything is so sleek and high up, the name in an Italian word he'll have to asked Robin to translate later.
Steve looks around the cafe in a huff, realizing Drew is nowhere to be found. He is momentarily flooded with relief, knowing he has beaten Drew to the cafe.
Steve finds a table in a corner and waits. His brief relief is quickly swept away into annoyance as he sits there for minutes with no signs of Drew.
It takes another thirty minutes, before Drew is finally at the cafe.
"Sorry, I'm late, baby." He says breath even. Steve knows he was in no rush to be here on time. He doesn't move to kiss Steve, not on the cheek and certainly not on the mouth. Drew isn't one for PDA, or so he says. Instead, he smooths down his dark blue Armani suit and sits across from Steve.
"You know, you could give me a kiss. I haven't seen you in a week." Steve decides to move past his being late; there is no point in arguing. If it had been him, Steve is sure he would never hear the end of it.
"Sweetheart..." Drew whispers and brushes his hand against Steve's knee. Steve's lip twitches; he doesn't like it when Drew calls him that. "You know it isn't safe to do that."
Steve wants to throw Drew's hand off of him, but he doesn't. It's always like this between them, Steve wants more, and Drew pulls back. It's beginning to feel tiresome, this game between them. They have been dating for a year and have made no progress in public. Steve's lucky Robin gets to know, seeing as basically no one else in either of their lives knows about each other. For Steve, everyone knows of Drew but not his name. For Drew, Steve is almost sure no one even knows he's gay.
Steve wants to hit himself for the thought. It's unfair of him to put these expectations on Drew, everyone comes out at their own pace. He would be a hypocrite if he pushed him; it had taken him nineteen years to figure out he was bisexual. Took Eddie leaving for him to come out to anyone other than Robin.
It feels different somehow with Drew, though. Like this isn't him scared to come out, but more like Drew doesn't actually see a future with Steve. It had taken them six months to even label themselves as boyfriends, moving from late-night booty calls to watching a movie together in Steve's living room in the middle of a Tuesday.
Steve rubs his temples instead of smacking Drew's hand away. Steve feels tired of this cycle. He knows this is the best he's going to get when it comes to dating. With women, they often want him to admit that he was experimenting, wanting to shun parts of himself away. That or they are convinced he's gay. Well, he is, but it's more than that, and they don't seem to get it.
With men, it's the opposite problem. Either they need him to admit being bisexual is just something he used to make himself feel better, or they are only looking for a quick hookup.
Hookups are nice, but approaching thirty, Steve wants something real and is perhaps sick of finding out the man he brings home from the bar is married.
He knows this is the best he's going to get.
"Maybe if we met a cafe in my neighborhood, we could be a bit more affectionate. The one down the block has a rainbow flag and everything."
Drew scrunches his nose, "Why do that when we can get nice coffee like this?"
Steve doesn't point out that neither Drew nor himself has ordered coffee. Steve can't afford the coffee here, and Drew was late. "I think that's your way of saying where I live isn't nice."
Drew grabs his hand under the table, "No, babe, I don't want to fight today. I've missed you."
Steve feels bad; he has missed Drew. Despite their ups and downs (and Robin's grumbles), Steve does care for him. "You're right, I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it. Besides, I did want to have lunch for a reason." Drew smiles brightly. Steve can't help but stare for a minute. It's no surprise what hooked Steve the first moment they met at the club. He is a classic kind of handsome. Wavy brown hair cut to look proper, a shiny white smile, piercing blue eyes. Nothing about him is soft, he is full of sharpness that takes you from across the room.
He's the kind of guy Steve's parents would have loved if they were okay with Drew being a guy—if Steve was even talking to them at all.
"Oh yes, you've got me on the edge of my seat." Steve jokes.
Drew gives him a charming smile, "There's my funny guy."
Steve rolls his eyes.
"So I have a big question for you..."
Steve freezes up; oh no. Here it comes. The talk, the let's move into together speech. One he'll have to turn down. No one ever gets it. How he can't live without Robin. Literally and physically.
"....so Greg says there's an opening and I think you'd be a great fit."
Steve shakes himself out of his thoughts, "What?"
Drew levels him with a look. "A job? For you?"
Oh. "I already have a job."
It's Drew's turn to roll his eyes, "C'mon, Steve. A high school guidance counselor? You could do so much more."
"I like my job, Drew. We've been through this. Besides, you barely want to be seen together, and now you want to work together? I have no interest in working at a law firm."
Drew pinches his nose, "Just...just think about it, okay? I want to see more of you in any way I can."
Steve doesn't want to fight. The fight left him a long time ago. "Okay."
He doesn't mean it.
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
aaah im loving where this is going, also I swear it gets better soon and this has a happy ending!! also thanks for the love and support. This will probably be the last part where I will take tag requests for the series so please ask now, cause its getting too long. But parts will always be updated on the previous posts and my page!!
tag list!:
@stevesbipanic @withacapitalp @emryyyyy09 @brainfugk @blueberrylemontea-fanfic
@slv-333 @thetinymm @connected-dots-st-reblogger @helpimstuckposting @dreamercec
@goodolefashionedloverboi @stripey82 @little2nerdy @anne-bennett-cosplayer @resident-gay-bitch
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@thesuninyaface @hallo-spaceb0y @dykelips @bookbinderbitch @valinwonderland
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mischiefmaker615 · 2 days
Text
Fangs
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Rating: PG14
Requester: @eleniblue
Promp: "Why do you think that you need to fix me? Who told you I was broken?"
Summary: You discover Loki's secret 
Note: TBH i've been wanting to try a Vampire Loki one shot..
"Why do you think that you need to fix me? Who told you I was broken?"
His voice was barely a whisper, almost as if he were right beside you when you clearly had your gaze on him from across a healing table.
Your eyes flicked up at him, having finished letting your minor cut heal under the magical glow before drawing your hand away from his.
His fingers gave a very small resistance, as if not wishing to let you go just yet as your fingers slid from his, both your finger tips faintly hesitating before your arm returned to your side again. Your other hand gripped your servants gown, your nails reminding you just how tight you had it clutched from your nervousness where you finally released the fabric.
That's all you were weren't you.. servant. But to prince Loki, you were more than that..
A servant and a prince. In his eyes you were nothing more than a goddess, as he's often reminded you. he often found excuses to be able to run into you, to have you on call for mere tasks that you would bring yourself to him as well. And you went willingly. You always did. There was something.. about it, something different.. and with each passing day as your bond grew, you knew there was something he just wasn't admitting. The funny thing was, his feelings were clear and he's spoken of them and his intentions.. but what he hid was deeper than that.. something that grew fear in your chest by the mere thought of daring to ask.
The opportunity always presented itself to ask what exactly he hid but words never left your mouth. How could you? you both have shared your hearts, have shared a bed, and he new your every soul and desire as if it were apart of him. was this it?
The way he gazed at you now had your eyes captive in his and you could feel your heart race as you drew in a breath to not have your prince wait any longer. ''it would seem you are the one always having to fix me..'' you often a light joke, your smile disappearing before you could even fully raise in as he slowly drew his hand off the table and he straightened to his full height. Even with the relationship you both secretly had, the prince never failed to remind you just how different your positions were, making your eyes drop respectfully.
''answer pet..'' he whispered.
''.. I don't wish to fix you Loki.. and I don't think you are broken..'' you answer with your voice just as quiet as his. Your eyes slowly raise to meet his own, seeing how he gazed upon you in question as you boldly spoke his name. ''..i can.. sense that you have been secretly struggling with something for a long time..'' you spoke, your head tilting up ever so slightly to gaze up at him and felt yourself take a breath. ''something to long..''
Loki's eyes roamed over you, his body stiffening as if you were on to him yet his expression never gave you an answer about what he was really thinking. He never did. His words were always answer but you've often had to find the right questions. That is, when he wasn't using seduction to have you forget what you wished to ask in the first place.
Your eyes glanced down where your cut had previously been, a reminder of a small pruning incident with the roses just before he made his presence known in the garden not long ago. He was always there wasn't he.. whenever you got hurt. Whenever you were bleeding..
Your eyes slowly moved up to his, the warm yellow glow of the healers table illuminating his eyes. Those eyes.. they always seemed different until you would begin questioning their color, just as they were now. Back to blue. But not before..
Your steps moved you before you could even register what was happening, slowly moving yourself around the table as you hold his gaze in your own now with a small kindling of confidence that rose in your chest. Your hand slid and followed along the table's edge as you brought yourself around and stopped before him, his head dipping down ever so slightly to look at you with careful breaths rising his chest.
''...you're starving aren't you..''
There was a chill in the air so it seemed, your one, simple statement being enough to draw silence between the two of you which seemed to feel like forever as he wordlessly parted his lips in question.
''i.. pet- i.. what are you-'' for once in your entire life, the prince struggled for words before you.
You both knew.
''it's okay Loki.. you're not broken.. you don't need to be fixed.. you're just hungry..'' your words were a whisper, where you almost couldn't even hear yourself if you hadn't seen the prince's reactions.
Ever so slightly he would take slow steps back as you slowly stalked forward, your eyes never leaving each other's even once as his back reached the wall with still that slight stocked expression that one would miss if they weren't gazing upon him intently.
''I've know for a long time my prince.. and it's okay.. this secret will be unspoken and safe with me..'' you said carefully, seeing how his eyes even questioned your loyalty but you kept your expression serious. He was the god of lies after all, and knew he saw truth in your words. Your shoes stopped just before his, tilting your head up and to the side as you looked at him.
''I love you Loki. It's okay..'' you breathed, love in your eyes as your hand slowly rose up and brushed your hair to one side, exposing your neck to him.
Right in that moment, time seemed to stop. His breath held, his eyes widen and his body stiffened. Those eyes were no longer blue anymore.. but took on the same color as the very blood that had left your hand not to long ago. His hands shook, restraint and control fighting him as he seemed to be losing and coming undone, something Loki has always been skilled at maintaining. Yet not tonight. Not right now.
And he snapped.
His slender fingers wrap around your wrist, using one swift motion to turn you both where your back now is pressed against the wall with the god before you looming dangerously close.
''you're a clever girl, that you are..'' he whispered, his voice almost reminding you of a snake and could feel the tip of his nose rub against your neck as his hand grips your jaw to keep your head tilted to the side. His thumb runs against your bottom lip while you hear him inhale your scent and could see a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. ''I am unsure of how you figured it out love,.. perhaps I was careless around you.. as one does when they are in love.'' His eyes flick to yours. ''their walls come down.''
A knee moved itself between your legs, applying just enough pressure as he rubbed against your sensitive area; your hand gripping his wrist as you tried not to whimper while the other rested against his chest. You always felt small like this- granted your heights were drastically different anyway, but he used this to his advantage.. and absolutely relished in it.
''I know I can trust you love, and that you are telling the truth.. but you should not have offered me this..'' he sighed, your eyes trained on him but didn't move, your pleasure from his grinding knee distracting you as you tried focusing on his words.
''I care for you Loki, I wanted too..''
You bite your lip as you held back a moan, feeling the flat of his tongue slowly drag across the crook of your neck, making your shiver and your fingers tighten.
''and that is why I love you Y/N.. you know of the danger, of the risks and yet you still place myself before your own desires and needs. Truly a treasure to be kept sacred.. which is why I will do my upmost best, darling, to not inflict pain upon you. at least.. not in this way..'' he promised, his red eyes meeting your own to ensure of you the truth behind his words before he inhaled, his eyes closing and his brows furrowed in concentration.
You knew what he was, you knew what to expect, yet your body still reacted once his eyes reopened and his lips parted slightly. His eyes didn't dare meet yours, almost as if he didn't wish to see your possible reaction of fear as your eyes left his lust filled ones to rest upon his slightly long fangs that promised would pierce without much force. Your body tensed and your eyes widened as he kept his eyes trained on your neck and you felt his groin grow hard as he moved his knee away to move even closer to you, grinding himself against you as his hand left your wrist to lace his fingers with yours and kept you pinned all the same.
There was slight fear, more anxiousness of the unknown but you made no move to stop him, to fight him, and as if sensing your worry almost seemed to drive him more as he gave your neck a kiss before you squeezed your eyes shut.
Your whole body seemed to jump as pain shot through your body, almost feeling like you had gotten stabbed by a dagger or shocked with electricity.. perhaps both as you felt his teeth pierce your skin deep before pulling away slightly. Your fingers gripped his shoulder, holding on as if he were to save you although he was your attacker. Just your reaction alone, and perhaps by now to new smell of blood was enough to cause Loki to moan against your skin, pressing himself against you as if he had no intention on letting you go.
The next thing you felt was his lips against your wound, the pain still stinging as you tried to move your head but his hand still on your jaw prevented you from doing so, wanting to remain in his access to your neck while he began to suck at you.
It was like a sort of tingling, it felt like you were being given a hickey but with a stronger suction. Much stronger. It was a strange feeling, feeling your blood leave your body and one could almost miss it if they weren't paying close attention. You felt Loki's body relax a little, knowing his hunger was being satisfied as he drank from you. it was almost explicit, exotic in the strange world of sexual pleasure where your fear seemed to be subsiding and your eyes closed, resting your head back as your lips parted. Your attention switched once he began grinding himself against you again, causing you to shiver as your pleasure began to build.
''Loki...'' you breathed in pleasure and reopened your eyes with a small smile, yet that smile only lasted for so long before you began seeing your vison grow fuzzy.
Blood loss will do that.
Your body began to tense, panic seemed to set in as he seemed to have no intention of stopped and you knew the risk if you lost to much blood- or all. He always paid attention to all your reactions and responses- it was quite frankly his favorite part yet he didn't seem to be letting up as you began squirming, feeling panic from how your vison danced and your strength growing weak- to pleasure as he seemed to keep grinding himself against you.
''L-Loki-'' you whimper, your fingers tightening on his shoulders and your other hand trying to pull out of his. ''P-Please..''
A yelp left your lips as you felt him puncture you once more just below your shoulder, his hand leaving your jaw to pin you by your free shoulder and felt him hum against you as he began drinking again. You felt warm liquid rolling down against your skin by your neck as your body tensed and your lips parted. Words never came as he was quick to swipe the straying blood with his tongue before continuing to drink and you felt his body shiver in pleasure.
Your eyes slowly closed as your body began growing rapidly weak and cold and your grip loosened. Knowing he was happy and alive, sating his torturous hunger was enough to at least give a small smile on your lips before everything went black.
~
Cold, slender fingers slowly stroked your cheek as you reopened your eyes again. Your memory was fuzzy but you knew you had passed out for quite awhile. Your vision met a warm, yellow light, indicating you were laying upon the healers table and you found your body feeling normal.
Moving your head to the side to see who was caressing your cheek, your eyes met the prince's blue ones and a small smile of relief was on his lips as he kneeled down on his knee to be more at your level.
''darling.. I'm glad you are well..'' he said, guilt behind his voice as his eyes moved over your body as if the healing missed anything before moving back to your own, seeing how you seemed relaxed and honestly.. smiling.
''I am well Loki, and am glad you could say the same.. you're looking much better'' you admit quietly, your hand raising up to hold his hand and he opted for it as he stopped stroking your cheek.
''I shall be forever grateful my lady..'' he gently teased as gazed off slightly, his smile fading a bit. ''..it's to dangerous to do it again.. you passed out for some time''
''that's what the table is for Loki- I'll be fine-''
''not with me darling.. I found myself unable to pull away, to have self-control.. I couldn't stop. I didn't want to- I didn't care.. you are lucky you woke up..'' he said sadly, his eyes searching yours as you slowly brought yourself to sit up.
Despite your usual shy state and the constant reminder of your position, this was between lovers. So you brought your hand up too his cheek without hesitation in a gentle stroke, just as he had to yours to wake you up; feeling him lean into your hand as he closed his eyes with shame.
''love is about sacrifice.. if you fought yourself at the door of death Loki, I'd gladly throw myself in replace if it meant saving you. I'll do it again if I find yourself looking the way you had.'' You promised, seeing how he opened your eyes as if he had to search for any sort of lie, shocked as you never hesitated to show how much you felt about him as he brought his hand up to rest against yours.
''I swear by it Y/N.. for you, I will not rest until I have brought myself into a state of self-control.. I will not lose you for the sake of sating myself of the temptation of blood..''
Your eyes gazed upon his, how your smile inspired his own as you brought your arms around his neck to pull him closer. His arms didn't hesitate to wrap around you as well as you both held each other and the great weight of his secret could be felt lifting from his shoulders as he buried his face into your neck with his body fully relaxing. You stroked his hair, just how he liked as you rested your chin against his shoulder and the strong feeling of boldness filled your chest. At the same time, your cheeks reddened at the very thought and darkened once the words left your lips.
''..are you hungry for something else?'' you asked, maybe a bit to seductively as he slowly pulled away from you, his eyes flicking down at your lower self with a smirk spreading over his lips as he gazed back into your eyes.
''..quite starving my darling.''
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bigtreefest · 1 day
Text
Chapter 8: What Took You So Long
From: Bigger Houses Series
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Pairing: Mountain Ranger! Ari x Reader
Summary: Finding forever took forever. Now it’s time to slow it down.
Word Count: 3,414
Content/Warnings: moderate alcohol consumption, mildly negative self-talk, looking back on the past, poking fun, mild swears, entirely too much affection, learning to cook, mild allusions to adult fun times, pet name usage
A/N: hehehe, the thought of grocery shopping with a SO has been eating me up recently. Also, a good friend of mine thinks I’m becoming disillusioned to what real-life romance is like. Oops
Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are sooooo welcome and appreciated!!
Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
Below is the song which inspired this chapter. Talk about sappy.
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You and Ari were grocery shopping when it hit him. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. A part of him had known the whole time, but this moment had really made it click.
You weren’t even looking at him, your eyes instead favoring the rows of produce, mentioning facts about how to determine when each fruit or vegetable was ripe. It was beautifully mundane, it was you sharing a little more of yourself and your wide breadth of knowledge he could never get over, and it was everything he ever wanted to love for the rest of time.
He was in awe of the way you moved through the aisles, your natural understanding of everything a person could possibly need, and how well you knew his preferences.
You pulled out spices, describing the dishes that utilize them. You explained the importance of salt, but not too much, and why a person could possibly need more than one kind. You walked him through different ways to make a balanced meal. The entire time, he was enthralled. He was completely taken by you and hung on to every word like it would save his life. Well, it sort of already did.
The two of you went to the checkout counter with your full cart, Ari pushing it as you began to load the items onto the belt.
Ari helped the cashier bag them up, and before he could even think to pull out his wallet, you’d already swiped your card. Ari cocked his head to the side, his long hair that peeked out from under his hat swaying. The ball cap looked so funny in juxtaposition to his ranger uniform, which he still wore as a product of you picking him up from work. His eyebrow raised as if to say ‘seriously?’
You smiled and shrugged as you took the receipt, skipping off in front of him as he pushed the cart out of the store and to your SUV. You slowed to allow him to catch up.
“You know I could’ve gotten that. These groceries are for my house, after all.” You laughed before reaching the car and pressing the button for the lift gate.
As the trunk began to open, Ari parked the cart and you felt arms wrap around you from behind. His beard bristled against your neck as he nestled in with his chin on your shoulder and kissed your cheek.
A soft smile remained on your face. “Consider it a gift. Welcome to independence, and official adulthood.”
He laughed into your hair. “Well it hardly counts as independence if you just took care of me. Swooping down to save the day again like the Angel you are. If you’re not careful, people are gonna think you’re my sugar mommy. Then I’m definitely not independent or much of a full-on grown-up.”
You rolled your eyes before turning around to start placing the bags into the trunk, keeping your head down doing your best to hide your blush at what Ari just said. You loved that he thought the world of you, and loving Ari like that was easy. Now, in terms of the sugar mommy comment, you both knew your job paid better, but neither had an issue with it, so any time it came up, he loved to joke like that, despite him having some savings from living so modestly.
Once you finished loading, you looked up into his sparkling eyes, creased with the smile he always wore when around you, finally replying. “I’ll give you sugar, you just have to wait until we’re home for it.”
You winked before giving him a chaste kiss, far too short for his liking, closing the trunk, and hopping up into the driver’s side, leaving Ari to return the cart.
When Ari returned to you, you started the car towards his cabin. You drove with one hand on the wheel, the other holding his over the center console. His thumb absent-mindedly stroked the back of your hand as Ari looked out the window, thinking about how he was going to pick out a ring.
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Ari was finally losing his bachelor fridge. Gone were the days of it only housing lunch meat and beer.
You had just helped him finish putting away the new haul as he had gotten changed out of his uniform. Everything had a place and he had never seen the cabinets so full. You had a methodical system he really appreciated.
Ari’s hands were on your hips as he was about to set you on the counter before you stopped him, placing a hand on his chest.
“Wait, stop.”
He looked at you confused.
You removed your hand from his chest and held a pointer finger up. “One more thing. Gimme a sec. I left it in the car.”
You dipped under his arm that had you barricaded against the counter, running towards the front door and slipping on the first pair of shoes you saw, Ari’s massive boots clopping as you ran on the driveway. You opened up the back door of your car, looking under the seat to pull out a small package wrapped in brown paper and a twine bow.
You ran back in to where Ari was still standing there with his mouth agape, one hand on the countertop, the other on his hip. You cautiously crept towards him with the package tucked behind your back.
His face morphed into a suspicious smile. “Whatcha got there, Duchess?”
You giggled, toes meeting his as you looked up at his towering form. He made a move to reach behind your back before you quickly slid out of his reach.
“Ah ah ah, surprises are meant to be given, not stolen, ya little klepto. Now close your eyes.”
Ari’s head fell forward with a sigh before looking back at you through his eyelashes. “Fine.”
His eyelids fluttered shut as he held out his hands and you pulled the small package out from behind your back, carefully placing it.
“Okay, open.” Ari looked down at the brown paper intently.
“What is it? What’s the occasion? You already bought my groceries.”
He set it on the counter before propping you up onto the island like he had tried to before. You shrugged, your hands gripping the edge as your feet swung.
“Open it. I know we didn’t really discuss gifts or anything, but happy one year of me almost hitting you with my car.”
He laughed, picking it up again and untying the twine. “The first or second time?”
He knew which time. It was the first one. He marked the day as soon as he’d gotten home from your first coffee shop date, counting back the days to that fateful run-in on the mountain pass.
You kicked his thigh lightly before silently urging him to tear open the paper. It revealed a small cookbook.
“‘Cooking for Two?’ What-“ His eyes grew wide. “You’re not…” he looked around before ducking his head slightly and whispering. “Pregnant…are you?”
You shoved him back. “What!? No. No!”
You shook your head frantically. “Absolutely not. That is not what this means.”
The two of you were more than careful enough to make sure that didn’t happen—at least not right now. You’d made sure to find the right birth control and Ari took proper precautions on his end, as well.
You laughed uncomfortably before going silent. Ari let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, okay, that’s good- I mean, not that I wouldn’t….like, well, kids….um.”
You calmed him, placing both hands on his shoulders. “I-I get it trust me. I want kids, too someday, just not right now. It’s okay, we’re on the same page about that.”
He nodded and placed his head on your shoulder as your hand moved to stroke his hair.
“Thank you for understanding me. Where have you been all my life?” Seriously, he couldn’t believe that heaven ever let him find you.
You placed a kiss on his temple. “I was getting prepared to meet you.”
You leaned back to catch his gaze. “Now let me explain. This book, which is most definitely not a pregnancy cookbook, is because I’m hoping to start spending more dinners here now that you’re all stocked. As much as I love cooking for you, I think it’s important we both know how.”
You gestured your head to the single book that sat on the shelf in the corner of his kitchen. “Plus, I think you’ve earned an addition to the collection. You’ve graduated on to the next best thing. The pizza incident is a thing of the past.”
He shook his head reminiscing on the memory. “It’s not my fault you distracted me.”
You looked at him with feigned shock and disbelief as he leaned in for a kiss. “But as my present to you, let me cook you dinner?”
You nodded, leaning in to meet him. The kiss was soft and slow before it became needier. Ari tried pulling you close, his one arm falling from your waist down to your hip, the other still holding the book, before you placed your hand on his chest again, pushing him away.
“Nice try, Bear, but I’m starving. As much as I wanted to see where that kiss went, I want food more. Chop chop.”
You grabbed the other end of the book still sitting in your lap and gently raised it, pushing it towards his face and turning him towards the stove.
“You pick out a recipe while I get some drinks started for us. Sound good?”
As much as Ari would’ve grumbled at anyone else, he was happy to oblige you, flipping through the pages as you pulled out two glasses and began pouring.
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Ari was so happy with the way you took over his space. Everywhere he looked, he saw you. Every room in the small shack had been filled with laughs and memories that filled his chest with warmth. Gone were the days that pained him to even look at the walls as the darkness seeped in. All that existed was light. It shined off of you and stayed reflecting off every surface, leaving an imprint of contentment in Ari’s brain, even when you weren’t here.
Ari leaned back against the counter next to the stove, arms crossed as he simply watched you. Over the period of him preparing the meal that was nearly finished, you had changed into one of his old wildlife conservation hoodies he’d gotten from working a fundraiser.
You danced without a care in the world, swaying with your arms above your head to the music you had blasting through the small cabin. Your one hand held your second cocktail of the evening.
As much as Ari hated to, he had to pull his gaze off you for a second to check the roast on the stove. When he opened the pot lid, you caught a whiff of the truly delectable scent. The sweetness of carrots swirled with the seasoning blend over the braised beef.
You set your glass down on the island, dancing over to him and stepping up behind the wall of a man. No spanks in the kitchen was a long-standing rule, which was a shame for the sweatpants he was wearing, but nothing was ever contested about hugs.
Your arms snaked around his waist and up under the front of his shirt as you rested your cheek between his shoulder blades. You could feel the ripple of each muscle as his arms expertly maneuvered and he breathed steadily, it was like marble that moved. Yet, there was a softness to it, maybe from the sensation of the chest hair under your fingertips, maybe from the smell of the fabric softener he used. There was always a softness to Ari, especially around you.
He hummed, reaching to pull low-rimmed bowls down from the cabinet, serving up the meal and setting it aside before running his hands up his shirt to meet yours. He turned around and pulled your hands between the two of you, placing a kiss on each hand, right on the ring finger. Starting forever was at the forefront of his mind, unbeknownst to you.
“Ready to eat?”
You nodded with wide eyes, grabbing silverware and dancing over to the dining room as Ari followed with your meals, dancing along.
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As the sun fell, you and Ari were still sitting at his dining room table. His small work-provided cabin didn’t offer much room to move around, but there was just enough for the two of you and you didn’t mind being cozy.
You were putting together a puzzle under the warm lighting, newly donned fuzzy socks on your feet that he’d tucked away as a surprise for this very special day, finally giving them to you after dinner.
The two of you moved quickly, but not hastily, as you passed Ari the outline pieces and you worked to piece together the internal scenery. Your movements were paired with witty banter and discussions about past lives. No matter how much time you spent together, you could never learn enough. You wanted to know everything.
“So that was the spring break I spent doing cleanup work for a tornado. It’s not like I had any plans otherwise besides going home, but my mom understood it was what I needed to do.”
Ari nodded along. He enjoyed learning about the road you took that led your hearts to each other. All the things you did with your hours and your minutes. Seriously, what didn’t you do? Even now you were constantly on the move, filling your schedule with valuable, enriching things. You chased your dreams even if they took you far away from your hometown. At least, that was how he saw it. How could you always find the time to be with him? To dedicate to him when you had so many other things on your plate?
He didn’t want to question it too much, though, for fear that you’d catch on and think he didn’t live up to how amazing you were. But Ari thought to himself more, realizing the good he really had done. What took him so long? Where had this version of him been all his life? You had awoken it in him. You had pushed him to become a better version of himself.
He was roused from his thoughts by your question. “So what about you? Ever do anything fun for spring break in college?”
Ari’s eyebrows rose as he thought back to it. He hadn’t finished college and it honestly seemed like a lifetime ago. He blew out a breath and leaned back in his chair.
“Well, I only had two spring breaks. I remember going down to Daytona beach with some buddies of mine, getting drunk on Coronas and them all being drunk on love with whoever they met down there.”
You took a sip of your drink, nodding as you swallowed. “Sounds about normal. I bet you were a charmer back in the day, too. Sometimes I wish we’d met then.”
Ari shook his head vigorously at that, taking the drink from your hands and finishing it down. “Ehhhh…I’m not so sure about that. I do not think you would’ve liked to have met me then. I probably wasn’t deserving to be in your arms.”
Your brows pinched together as you took the drink back, going to Ari’s fridge and getting a fresh round of beer, hunching over to reach the shelf. “I don’t agree that you weren’t deserving. Sure, we lived different lives, but you were still you.”
Ari thanked you as you placed the new bottle in his hand, taking your seat again and shuffling the puzzle pieces.
“I mean, Bear, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who actually cares about being a ranger as much as you do. You go to all those little conferences and retreats and trainings and actually enjoy them. That’s not just a trait that develops overnight. It’s character.”
Ari blushed. Not even the cold beer was enough to counteract the warmth in his cheeks that came around when you said little things like that. When he could see how much of the little things you noticed. When you saw him.
He scoffed and tried to brush it off, though. As much as he loved to hear your praise, he respectfully disagreed with your assessment of his college self. Sure, if it had been up to him then, he would’ve been ecstatic to meet you a lot sooner, but God knew what he was doing making Ari wait all this time.
“Nah, I was a bit of a punk. And I wasn’t ready then to meet someone like you, but I think I’m ready now.” It was true. Right when Ari met you was when his world started spinning, but he wouldn’t have been able to handle it as the immature, reckless, and restless young delinquent he was.
“I definitely wasn’t doing humanitarian work like you. Trust me, Duchess, if you would’ve seen me…let’s just say…I don’t think I would’ve ever gotten the opportunity like now to kiss you every morning with the sunshine. I would’ve blown it pretty early on.”
You shrugged and continued to snap pieces into place with one hand while the other reached for his, pulling it to your lips for a kiss. “Agree to disagree.”
The puzzle was shaping up now, as you worked to slide your solved chunks in towards the middle with Ari. Only a few pieces were left to be placed.
Ari continued to work on the task at hand, but it took a back seat in his mind to the main show that was you. Sure, he loved little activities, but mostly, he just loved you and the time you could spend together. He’d do anything if it meant just stealing another moment.
As you were close to finishing, there were two spots open, but only one puzzle piece left. You stood up, looking on your seat, spinning around to check the floor, and even peeking under the mostly-solved puzzle with no luck.
“Bear, stand up. Do you see the last piece anywhere? Can you please help me find it?”
He stood up and cleared his throat. “Sure thing. It’s gotta be here somewhere. This was a new set. Couldn’t have gone far.”
The two of you looked over every nearby surface, Ari even checking the fridge to see if you’d tracked it into there somehow, and to get himself another drink after looking for the piece at the bottom of his bottle.
Somehow this hunt had turned into a dance, though. Or…more of a hobble?, as Ari had wrapped his arms around your neck, hugging you from behind and resting his head over one shoulder, taking big, goofy, swaying steps with you.
He lived for this. Really. Where had you been all his life? This night was another quotidian moment he wanted to bask in. He felt like it had taken him forever to find the one he wanted to spend forever with, but now that he did, he just wanted time to slow down. He wanted to drag out this night just a little bit longer.
You turned around in his hold, hands rubbing his chest and abs over the old hoodie he wore. Your nails raked up and down, sending tingles to the firm muscles under the plush fabric. Ari held you close, large hands splayed against your lower back. As your hand brushed over the pocket in his sweatshirt, you felt something small and flat with sharp edges.
“Hm, that’s suspicious.” Your head tilted as you looked up at the tree of a man, a sly smile on his face, looking back down at you.
“Oh, Angel, I’m just excited to see you.”
Without breaking eye contact, you reached into the pocket, finding exactly what you’d expected, mouth open in a small gasp of fake shock.
“As much as you wish it were, not everything is about your dick, Levinson.”
You winked and leaned up to kiss his cheek. Ari simply gave a shrug as you shimmied out of his hold and back over to the table, sliding the final puzzle piece into place. This was a mimetic moment for him; a visual representation of what you’d done in his life, and he planned to never let you go.
Next >
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Bonus A/N: Bro, a lil sap who thinks the world of me? That’s all I want. Fr Fr.
If you agree, I’d love to hear about it. Drop me a comment or reblog. Thank you for reading!!
Series Taglist:
@patzammit
@hawkeyes-queen
@identity2212
@jamneuromain
@whiskeytangofoxtrot555
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would be so funny if after sirius and reader fuck for the first time, the next time he sees remus hes debriefing like they used to when they were younger and remus is like “you never change do you” but sirius goes “she’s different!” because she is 🤭 and then glimpses of how sirius and reader act together that make remus realise that his friend is indeed whipped, head over heels, long gone
my first ask 🙇🏻‍♀️‼️ thank u. i’m not super confident in writing dialog but i gave it my best effort lmao
from the moment Remus gets back to grimmauld place… he knows something’s up.
The air feels different, and Sirius is all but skipping around the house.
Remus quickly puts two and two together as it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s been going on. Sirius wears his emotions on his sleeve, and it’s been obvious from the very beginning that he has an interest in you.
After a meeting, Remus pulls Sirius to the side and sighs. “Really, Sirius?”
Sirius can’t help the smug little smile on his face. He knows exactly what Remus is referring to, but he likes to play coy, and the back-and-forth between them is always a bit of fun. “Something on your mind, Remus?”
Remus wants to roll his eyes. He speaks in a quiet but firm tone. “Must I spell it out for you? Do you think what you’re doing is appropriate?”
Sirius responds with a simple glance of his eyes. He locks eyes with Remus, slowly looks over to Tonks, and then meets eyes with Remus again. As if saying ‘You’re not one to talk’ without having to say it
Of course Sirius would know about that. Remus thinks bitterly. It’s sometimes easy to forget that Sirius is smarter and more perceptive than he lets on.
Not bothering to try and save face, Remus defends quietly, “That isn’t the same.”
“How so?” Sirius asks, knowing he’s already won the confrontation without even having to say much.
Remus could create a list of reasons as to why Sirius Black of all people shouldn’t be sleeping with one of the new order members. No matter the reasons why, Sirius was never known for committed relationships or monogamy.
But right now isn’t the time for this discussion. The meeting’s just ended and everyone’s rounding up for dinner. Remus sighs. “You’ll never change, will you?”
Remus thinks the conversation is done, but Sirius replies after a short pause. Remus is mildly surprised by how genuine Sirius sounds when he says “This time is different, old friend.”
Remus knows Sirius. He knows him better than anyone else. And he knows that Sirius won’t take this so-called ‘relationship’ seriously.
In Remus’s mind, he thinks that Sirius is just bored. He knows it’s hard for Sirius to be trapped in his childhood home, and having a pretty girl around is a good distraction.
Throughout dinner, Remus can’t help but steal glances at the two of you. He watches the way Sirius listens to you when you speak, his eyes never straying from yours.
After dinner, Remus watches Sirius as he makes you a cup of tea. Sirius adds a generous amount of milk and a small pinch of sugar as if he’s already memorized your preferences.
Then in the middle of the night, Remus rises out of bed and makes his way to the bathroom. Whilst passing by Sirius’s room, Remus can hear bits and pieces of your late-night conversations. It’s difficult to make out your quiet mumblings, but it’s got something to do with life after the war and possible children.
Remus decides to stop pestering Sirius. Perhaps this could be a good thing in the long run
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Text
HOUSE MD 2024 ONE SHOT BASED ON THIS SCREENSHOT - in collaboration with @zethd
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"hey wilson, i need to borrow some money," house announced as he swung the door open to his best friend's office. the brunette oncologist rolled his eyes and let out a groan, though he was more than used to the request of money.
"what do you need it for?"
"does it matter?"
"yes," wilson huffed. "i'm not funding any of your stupid schemes anymore."
"i'm getting a service animal. i figure it's about time i finally accept that in my old age, my leg can't keep up with me anymore," house replied, the sarcasm dripping in his tone. wilson was slightly surprised, and he took a minute to consider.
"how much money do you need?"
"about $10k," house answered. wilson blinked, almost as if he couldn't believe he'd heard that correctly.
"why so much?"
"i'm high maintenence," house shrugged. "the dog needs to be able to keep up. dogs aren't cheap and the training isn't cheap either."
"don't those dogs come trained?"
"well, yeah, but i still have to compensate the trainers for working with the dog," house scoffed, as if it was obvious. wilson sighed, pulling out his cheque-book and opening it, but he paused for a moment.
"you swear this is going towards a service animal?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. house rolled his eyes, nodding his head.
"when have i ever lied to you?"
ONE WEEK LATER
"house, what the hell is that?" wilson groaned, watching as house limped into his office with a robotic dog trailing behind him.
"this is rover," house replied, pointing at the dog.
"rover? and where exactly did rover come from?"
"he's my new service animal," house scoffed. "god wilson, keep up."
"you got a robotic dog as a service animal? that's why you needed $10k?" wilson groaned, leaning his head in his hands and shaking it. he should have known better than to trust house.
"what else would i have gotten?"
"a real dog."
"yeah, like i want something that sheds all over the place. the hookers leave enough of their hair behind for me to find later," house said.
"house, this isn't funny. how is a robotic dog supposed to help you?"
"he's a robot, moron. he's programmed to be smarter than humans. besides, he knows some cool tricks."
"tricks? like what?" wilson raised an eyebrow. what the hell kind of tricks could a robotic dog do?
"we have to go outside. i don't think cuddy will be too happy if rover did his tricks inside. she's such a buzzkill," house rolled his eyes. wilson sighed, knowing he shouldn't be putting this much trust into house, but he followed him outside regardless. they made it outside to the parking lot, coincidentally right near cuddy's car. well, wilson thought it was coincidentally, anyway.
"i have a bad feeling about this," wilson admitted, seeing the look on house's face.
"oh shut up and watch. it'll be cool. come on rover, do your thing," house instructed, pushing a little button on a remote control he'd pulled from his jacket pocket, and within seconds, rover was shooting a flame out of a piece of metal attached to his back. wilson stepped back immediately, though cuddy's poor car took the brunt of it.
"house!" wilson gasped, and house simply made a face.
"whoops. he wasn't supposed to do that...i think i pushed the wrong button."
"what the hell was he supposed to do then?"
"oh, he was supposed to shoot flames but not like that. i didn't even know he could do that. cool."
"no, not cool! you just torched cuddy's car!"
"honestly, i was doing her a favour," house shrugged. but speak of the devil, because out came cuddy when she realized that it had been her car that had been torched.
"what the hell did you do to my car?!" she exclaimed as she stormed over.
"rover had an accident," house replied, pointing at the robotic dog at his feet.
"rover? this is what you meant by a service animal?" she huffed, realizing that she too had been fooled into thinking that he had pure intentions when he came to her to put in the paperwork for a service animal.
"isn't he cute?" house asked, obviously trying to distract from the car that was currently in flames in front of them.
"you're really going to play dumb right now?"
"like i told wilson, i was doing you a favour. no wonder you can't get laid, driving that thing around," house scoffed.
"that's it. rover is gone," cuddy said.
"you're really going to separate a boy and his dog?" house pretended to pout, looking down at his "pet".
"oh, i'm going to do more than separate a boy and his dog. i'm going to kill the boy and his dog," she said, and even house took a step back.
"uh oh. i think she's mad."
"you think?" wilson scoffed. it was obvious he was mad too, and house could tell.
"oh come, not you too," he groaned.
"i funded this! you told me you were getting a dog, not a flame-throwing robot!"
"this was cooler, and a lot less maintenance than an actual dog."
"he destroyed my car!" cuddy argued.
"look on the brightside - now you can upgrade."
"and you can pay for it."
"what? how? i had to borrow the money for rover from wilson. you think i can afford to get you a new car?" house scoffed.
"you're going return rover and get a refund, and you're going to give me that money so i can get a new car."
"you can't make me give up rover," house protested.
"i have a baseball bat in my office. you can watch me smash rover to bits if you'd prefer," cuddy shrugged, and house cringed.
"fine. i'll return rover. just know how heartbroken he is though."
"i'm sure he'll be just fine."
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tassodelmiele · 2 days
Text
Noisy little mess
Hi sweetie ⁓
Here we are, it's finally monday and we can hope again in having a good, productive week (please let it be a sunny one too I can't hibernate in April I need my photosynthesis).
I'm wondering what do you think of this little work of mine, so if you feel like it you can write me whatever comment/question/any various and possible magical shit.
Have a good chocolaty day ⁓
DISCLAIMERS: little bit of touching and hints about sub/dom relationship! Finally my kinks are emerging! (evil laugh); Ghost-who-needs-to-make-peace-with-his-brain x Reader-who-needs-to-learn-how-to-shut-up; "How to be a psychologist without a degree" (by John Price); embarassing mission I hope does not exist in reality, but i needed it for plot's sake; little bit of wounds and scars (Doc.'s gonna tie you and Ghost up to a chair for the rest of your life); yelling and fighting and arguing (you're used to it by now).
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Fourth part here:
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«Why the hell you've let her-»
«MacTavish»
Price swallows through the smoked breath, clenching his fingers around the consumed cigar just to distract himself from the willingness to punch a wall, or the Sergeant's face.
«I've already had Ghost yelling at me for half an hour. Spare me»
«Then explain yourself, Cap.»
«I can't. I've no explanation. She'd done it by herself»
«She's no insubordinate»
«Not in that sense». He sighs. «I told her no. I knew it was too much for a rookie». He chews the extinguished cigar for a while, taking his time. «Laswell agreed. But that goddamn girl managed to convince Kate, somehow»
«How come?»
«Dunno. But she's already feeling bad enough, and she was the one who's got to rescue the girl»
«Laswell?? Ye serious?»
Price nods, eyes locked at the door in front of them. The doc entered almost one hour ago.
«And» Soap dares to ask «is Laswell…uhm…»
«She's ok» the Captain anticipates him. «Nothing broken. But the rookie…». He sighs again, scratching the bridge of his nose, pushing lightly his digits on the eyes. «I don't like soldiers wasting their lives like this. Especially good ones»
«The mission had to be done anyway»
«We could have waited for a better plan»  
He takes a last chew on the cigar, spitting it on his glove before squeezing the leftover crumbles in his fist. He throws everything in a trashcan, then gazes at Soap.
«We've got shit to do, Sergeant. We'll come to check her later»
«They've done something bad to her». That wasn't really a question, even if Soap hopes to be wrong. «Am i right?»
«What came up in that bloody lil' head of yours?»
Three gunshots in your arm (the right one, 'cause luck kicks you in the ass as always), one blade wound and various bruises, just to complete the masterpiece. Doc sent you out of the bed with a promise: to try to not touch the medications.
One in particular.
You didn't even want to eat, but you need to. So breakfast has started, with chocolate scent, closed stomach and two pairs of gaze on your red face. You've tried to avoid contact with every human being in the base, but someone's got a good sense of smell for you. And you eventually end up with Soap and Gaz surrounding you with their (legitimate) questions.
You're blushing like hell, stirring oatmeal crumble in the mug with your eyes drowning into it.
«…I've thought…i could be helpful»
«You're a brave kid, but that was-»
«Stupid» Soap ends the sentence. «To say the least». He finishes his coffee in a sip, swallowing the hot liquid in a rush. «It wasn't a rookie's work, ye should've known» 
You nod in embarrassment. «I did know»
«Then why?»
«'Cause…» you swallow, burying your eyes more into the mug, scratching the cuticles skin out of the nails. «…a girl was required. For the mission»
«Hold on» Gaz grabs your shoulder, lowering his voice. It was a confidential subject, not the one to speak about in a crowded dining room. But he keeps on with his curiosity anyway. «It was about weapons traffic, wasn't it?»
You nod.
«Then why a girl?»
You're about to answer, your mouth's already open even if you're not sure if filling them with a temporary lie, or just spit the truth.
Another sudden press on your shoulder takes you off from every doubt.
A big hand grabs you firmly, squeezing skin and bones underneath your uniform. Your body instantly shivers, tightening under the hold. You raise your head a little, but you know whose mask you're gonna jump into.
Ghost has the magical power to bring back the silence. He doesn't even have to speak, just a glare of his is enough. His look hits Soap and Gaz as to say: shut your bloody mouth; and they just roll their eyes at the ceiling, as to say: but we wanna know 'bout her mission, damn it.
Then he lowers on you just that tiny bit that's needed to let you feel his body heat closer, so warm against your cold limbs.
«Your presence is required» he says quickly, almost murmuring against your ear.
And here you are, walking behind his massive figure with eyes lowered on the ground, following his feet at a security distance through the base. He stops a couple of times to talk with someone, moments in which you play camouflaging with the wall; then you two reach a door, and you're so into not-seeing in front of you that you don't even look at where you are. 
He closes the door behind you, and only after a few seconds of embarrassment you find the bravery to mumbling:
«W-who required me?»
«I do»
Your heart skips a beat before your ears could collect his voice and your synapsis could elaborate its meaning. That's when you suddenly raise your sight, finding him clinging on the desk while looking at you through the mask, and even if you can't see his face it's pretty clear that he's judging you. You can read it on the skull, as there's an imaginary -but very perceptible-  neon writing saying: You're a bloody stupid gnome.
Voice escape through your lips automatically: «I'm sorry»
«'Bout what?» he kinda calls you out, pressing with his sternness on your pathetic whimpers.    
Your eyes lower again.
«…causing trouble-»
«Just that?»
You nod. You don't wanna talk about what kinda trouble; but he does.
«Take off your shirt»
Your brain flashes a sudden error signal, allowing you to shiver and wrap your arms tight around yourself. 
«…sir?»
Stupid question. You know why he's asking, the goddamn doctor had probably told him.
«Your shirt» he repeats, not moving from his place.
Two days ago, you would have started a war about this, yelling at him without regrets, brave enough to fight against your superior like two children between one small bucket. 
Not now. Now you just stand in your special spot in the office, allowing your body to move just what is needed to breathe, eyes locked on the floor. You feel him growing impatient, sighing through the mask as you're disappointing him.
«'K. If that's so…»
The sentence remains hanging in the air, and in a matter of seconds, without getting aware of how fast he came toward you, his hands are on your shoulder. You instantly panic but you're too small to fight against his weight that's pushing you against the door, pinning you still with an hand on your breastbone while the other runs to your shirt's hem.
You grab his wrist in a stupid attempt at stopping him, but he lifts the shirt up in one movement, revealing bruises, a bloody bandage, and…a little scar slightly under the belly button, fresh from the oven and still shiny from some medical gel: the writing made out of fire burns on your skin in an elegant gothic style. 
He stares at it, contemplating that swallowed piece of tattooed skin. Your face becomes so red you could spontaneously combust in this exact moment.
«Who made it?» he burst out, whispering harsh words.
You swallow hot air, digging your dry throat and hoping that whatever's gonna come out of your mouth will be the most sensible as possible.
«It's…it…traffic wasn't just 'bout weapons»
«Humans» he talks over immediately. 
You nod your head, specifying with a swallow: «women» 
«You've sneak in as a good to be sold»
«There was no other way to-»
«And they've marked you» his voice's not that high, but you're whispering enough to make it easy for him to have the upper hand on you. You become quiet, avoiding his sight, with your hands still wrapped around his wrist.
«Are you proud?»
The question wasn't expected, spitted roughly through his mouth. You clench your digits, digging in his gloves.
Then you nodd.
«Yes» the answer is a breath, warmth by your boldness and the consciousness that you've done what had to be done. And none would have taken that awareness from you. You eventually lift your sight a little, meeting his mask, letting the skull shape fill your eyes.
«Yes, I am»
You know he's looking at you as if he's got an idiot under his sight. You feel him judging, investigating your behavior, interrogating your posture. And you, trapped between a scary giant and a door, with his cold glove pressed where your belly still hurts, you dare to stare at him for one whole minute.
It seems enough: he lets you go, shaking your hands away from his wrists as he stands in all of his height against you.
«Good soldiers come home alive, little gnome»
«…it's a curious scolding from one who lives a dangerous life»
«I've already told ya: you don't know me»
«But i'm neither deaf nor blind»
«Buy a bloody mirror then». He takes two steps back, letting you breathe freely for the first time since you've entered the room. «Ya can say you see us clear, but speaking of seeing yourself…I can't say the same»
«I know me»   
«It seems not»
Blood starts to rush to your brain as the embarrassment turns into a mixed spoonful of anger and bitterness. You follow him, still at security distance, toward his desk. «Why? 'Cause you've caught me touching myself once and I made one bloody moan?»
«'S not that, and we've already talked enough 'bout it» he mumbled, pretending to not pay attention as he looks through some documents on the table.
«Oh, oh sure! Now we've talked enough about it» your arms end up crossing on your chest. «after you've ripped my elbow»
«It was just a nerve»
«Judicially irrelevant» 
«Shut your bloody mouth»
«Why? 'Cause you've told me s-»
«Yes»
You freeze; that was a cold, hard stone order. He's got his knuckles clenched on the table, his back's muscles are visibly breathing under the pressure of maintaining a glint of calm. 
«You» he turns at you, pointing a finger at your freezed face «you are a goddamn idiot, one of the worst species. I've tried to convince myself you weren't actually so stupid but, damn god, was i right in the first place»
Guilt assaults you with a knife at your throat, for reasons you don't know. And you find your eyes lower, your spirit evaporated, your anger extinguished under his glare. You try to mutter:
«I've just done my duty-»
«You threw away your life»
«The mission had to be done, that was our last possibility to catch that damn illegal traffic» you rush, raising your voice to grow some confidence in your speech «Laswell needed a woman and i just did my damn work!»
And he almost barks back, raising stern and furious eyes at you: «than what 'bout asking someone more experienced, you bloody asshole?!»
«'Cause it was needed a woman with-!». You suddenly stop, biting your inner cheek as a last word slips, almost like a whisper, through your lips: «…inclinations»
He's left speechless for a while, standing in front of you with the finger still hanging toward your figure. You swallow; you know he's going to ask more, and that's just 'cause you can't keep your mouth shut.
As if you've called it, he spit out a terse: «Explain»
You sigh. This would be a great time to sink ten meters underground.
«I» you start gesticulating, drawing figures in the air with your hands «I am…i-»
You expect him to joke about your incapability of connecting two words together; but he remains silent, looking at you almost with curiosity. And you're forced to keep on talking.
«…I like certain things people don't usually…agree to do» you force words outside your mouth, with cheeks on fire and eyes buried on the pavement.
His conclusion wastes no time to come:
«You're a submissive»
It's not a question, it's a truth and it hits you like a brick in the face, as if he'd already understood your particular nature till the beginning. There's no need for more explanation: you know what kind of submissive he's referring to, and he evidently knows just enough about the subject to grin, just a little, under the mask.
«The target was known for his…peculiar sexual tastes». The additional clarification was not necessary, but he gives it anyway. He let out a soft chuckle, almost like he's having fun thinking about it. «I can't believe that Laswell really rely on this stupid trick»
You would really clarify how much Laswell fought against your will to volunteer for that risk, but your voice is gone under the embarrassment. Your digits are digging into cuticles again, and you're about to pretend to not exist, turn your heels and just go away.
And you don't even notice he's got closer again, till he forces your face up by roughly grabbing your cheeks in one hand. 
The disappointment is palpable.
«You've run into that perv's den alone, risking yourself for a mission you knew you couldn't handle…just to satisfy your throbbing cunt?»
That hit you worse than every other thing he's thrown at you till now. Your cheeks catch fire in his hands, guilt choke air in your lungs and poisonous butterflies eat your stomach, whispering through the entrails: he's right.
But you don't want him to be right.
«I've just decided to put every weapon I've got at your service» you spit out.
His grip gets tighter. «Sure thing. And what have you gained? Apart of a saving operation that wasted everyone's time, of course»
«Mission was completed»
«We would have found another way to do it, rookie»
«But I did it» you grab his wrist, trying again to escape from his hold. «And i'm alive, so why the hell are we even talking about-»
It happens all of a sudden: he pushes you again against the door, harder and roughly enough to make your spine squeak on it. You hold a yell, and one second after you can't breathe anymore.
He holds you by your mouth, pushing on your face with his whole hand open, while the other runs down right under your belly, squeezing on your crotch like it's made of play dough.
«This is no playfield». His voice is almost a growl murmur in your ear as he lowers enough to overcome you with his bigger body. «Soldiers have morals. And dignity. Maybe 's not clear to your pretty little brain. So: watch» and he speaks slowly, growling coldness with tongue maid of sharp metal, his eyes on you with that goddamn mask supply (and you're sure you're gonna dream about his sight forever) «your. Bloody. Mouth. Kitty» 
The nickname, the grip on your pants, the fact that you're breaking your personal apnea record…just burn your brain. And, in a loss of breath, trying so desperately to find a way out of that embarrassment while freezing your hormones that are already running too low on your body…
You bite him.
You sink your teeth in his glove as hard as you can, ripping off that goddamn dignity he was speaking about, letting the residual rage work as a fuel for your mouth. He suddenly jerks with a step back, catched by surprise, tearing his hands away, and to do so…he pushes with the other hand on your lower belly.
On your goddamn freshly engraved and barely healed tattoo.
On the scar the doc pleaded with you not to touch.
You spit his glove out of your mouth, yelling like your vocal chords have turn into a megaphone.
Ten minutes later, you two are waiting outside of the infirmary.
The knock on the door doesn't distract him, too focused pretending to find his paperwork attractive.
Price gets in without invitation.
«Just a word» he sits at the desk, usual hat at his place and cigar climbing from his lips «between me and you»
Ghost doesn't lift his sight.
«I've talked with doc-»
«I don't need to be scold 'bout it, if that's what ya'r here for»
Price sighs a low, maybe a little bit too paternal: «Ghost-»
«If you two» Simon raises his voice a little «believe in trusting every goddamn rookie, sending them risking their bloody neck just 'cause they've told you how good they are at shaking their ass-»
«You've already yelled about it, give my ears a rest. In any case, Laswell made the best choice in her position» Captain talks over him. «And I agree with her. We couldn't lose that opportunity, Simon»
«She didn't even managed to end the mission alone»
«But the rookie did a great job. Only problem was taking her out of that shit»
«You can't seriously call a kink exploitation one "great job"»
«She's a soldier. We're not here to babysit, risking our life 's part of our contract»
Silence. 
Price starts to get nervous, feeling some mixed emotions that he really can't stand at six in the evening. He suddenly stands up, patting both hands on the desk, taking a deep breath before exhaling a long, almost exhausted: 
«There's nothing bad in making friends with your allies…»
Ghost is already rushing an "i don't need friends" kinda sentence, but Price anticipates him:
«Me too, i've made friendships on the battlefield that i hope will last as long as my bones will walk on the dirt. Then, we could die together and be happy in whatever hell God'll decide to send us. But» and his "but" was final «i know what you're doing here. Stop it. It's gonna be draining, for the both of you»
Ghost spits out: «I'm doing nothin'», too rushed, then muttering: «Don't even like her»
«I don't care who you like. You can marry whoever you want, you've got my approval»
«For fuck's sake Price-»
«Wanna delete her from your eyesight? Just look straight in front of you from now on. Wanna keep an eye on her?» John raises his hands, throwing Ghost's embarrassment in the air while admitting with the most honest attitude: «Sure. Ok. I keep an eye on you all every goddamn minute of my life. She's not a princess, though. And ya'r not a bloody knight»
Silence becomes again the king in the office. Price is still fixed in his extreme openness, ready to give his Lt. the best suggestions on how-to-not end up again at the infirmary with that goddamn rookie (before the doc kills the both of them).
Then Ghost finally raises his gaze.
And Price has a bad s-.,ensation in his guts, almost like he'd said something he shouldn't have.
«Keeping…an eye on her» Simon repeats, lost in thoughts.
John nodds, hesitating before leaving the office.
..................................................
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dungeonmessy · 2 years
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seeing the progression of kabru's character is so funny. first pic is his first meeting with laios whenever his cool nice guy friend persona is still at 100%. and the next are after he realizes that laios is wholly unmanipulatable and thus loses his fucking mind
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lucy-ghoul · 3 months
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i think i finally found a semi-famous (?) blog that blocked me lmao
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glsneeg-enthusiast · 10 months
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forcing you to think about how sneeg genuinely thought frank was alive
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majoringinsarcasm · 1 year
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Y’all what the Fuck did I just watch. I saw like three spoiler pictures and decided not to watch right away bc I needed to be mentally prepared for that kinda stuff and that was just NASTY!! Like the episode was good I don’t mean nasty as in bad I mean I’m emotionally ripped up but also when CC Did That, all of it but especially with Neo I was just like. Nah no nope that was Not It that was. That was freaky. Not in a the writers did it bad way I mean that was done so well bc I’m feeling the emotions they wanted which is upset and disgust that was GROSS
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corellonsblessing · 6 months
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A BLACK OUT/SLAM POEM based on the teletubbies (tv) tag on ao3
TRIGGER WARNING_MILK.
stray dogs literature clubs, the school for good and evil. ink sans angel—stranger things
horror sans guy—don’t hug me i’m scared. don’t hug me i’m scared, (don’t hug me i’m scared.)
free form plot twists. tragedy/comedy. alternate universe—high school. alternate universe—music.
the chaos unfolds each day, pristine, centuries ago, fight the many.
post divorce, living together, implied drug use, alcoholism. snippets from the end of the show, renunion, although it takes place a couple years before. we were the stars (but space was a void) by ponfarrpussyqueen.
corporate clash, bug, duck, the guardian pest, the prince, macarena, kissing, crack, as a joke, boys kissing, regret everything
underage julius caesar, emo napoleon, mating bond, tentacle dick, magic healing cock, holy water, holy roman empire, kissing in the rain, the battle of waterloo, a true story.
crossover, insanehappymealgiver, original character, original, simulator, mentioned, i’m at my limit, intentionally bad, wearing the other character’s skin, start praying because this sure ain’t holy, my dad went to get the milk because of this, sent to the void, put me in a coffin, rancid hope’s peak
we greet you with good luck and prosperity.
we love gay anal and lesbian smut and we hope you do too.
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diminishing flame, not for kids, you’ll cry so hard you won’t have eyes, not sorry, commit a clarity, vaporized, freeform, sewer rat
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2020 presidential election, spit as lube.
chaos bear, crack, crack, crack, has religious trauma, gay, gay, lesbian, lesbian sex, orgy, moist naked bodies rainbow is jesus, sex during tornado, this is NOT. finished.
there she was, in a new world. guess she’ll play the cards she’s dealt.
jesus confessed, sin shock, tears streaming down her face. “i fucked your sister.” crack. treated seriously, why did i write this. gay best friend—i can see that (i’m safe here.)
why did i write this!
crack. treated seriously.
slowly losing our sanity, we die.
crack, treated seriously. the moon of hope and the sun of despair LET IT GOOOOO LET IT GOOO.
crack, treated seriously, blue balls, orphan account
his little purse. what was once an inside joke is now taken seriously. crack. crack. fluff and crack. angst and crack. i am a man of my word, and i speak for the people.
a million other projects to complete
crack, crack, i dont know what’s going on, we’re idiots so we made this
it starts out all nice then it all goes downhill
satan, crack, this is a joke, please help me, please don’t hate me, i’m so sorry, i cannot think of anything else, please don’t read this. but. do, the author regrets nothing, the author regrets everything, why do i still exist? (discontinued, at least until further notice.) by even moderner prometheus
forbidden love, dead dove:do not eat.
so small in the midst of it all. rolling with the weird and unusual, traumatized teens to comfort, and an important decision to make
i came up with this, i will go down with this
i can’t believe i write this, why did i write this, i wrote this while listening to mother mother, sleep deprived, wrote this instead of sleeping, the guardian witnessed sex and is now scarred, touching, addiction, slut shaming
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insufferable with apologies to all my followers, hell (literal), sewage
i got problems, so fucking random, pulled out of my ass, hard to explain, hard to word, each chapter will be posted, find me on wattpad,
near death experiences, major illness, declarations of love, love confessions, eating, marking, delay/denial, knotting, marking, mating bites, overstimulation, based on taylor swift songs, missing spleen
help me pleease, im scared, why did i write this?, just this really chill person who wants to take over the world, humanized teletubbies, my friend and i wrote this over the summer
you better not forgive me for this, im serious, vaginal fingering, a hushed voice, the contact making her shiver.
may your heart stay strong. torture, vomiting, blood and gore, self-indulgent, touch starved guardian, all characters are adults, electricity, suicidal thoughts, medical inaccuracies,
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and yet… you lie again. i like noo-noo i hope he explodes, don’t show up
crack. i am so sorry. not in detail but it could’ve been so count your blessings
gods this can’t end well, good parent, to two children, bad parent, to the other one
IM SO SRRY BUT THIS WAS FOR THE GREATER GOOD, HAHA SUFFER,
attempt at humor, death, gore, i don’t even know, i’m so sorry, you have been warned, i posted this for my brother’s birthday
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plague, companionship, through the fields we ran
it quickly turns into anti-demon propaganda
a play in one act, post-war, no sex, no killing
the prize of reading this is to meet god
help my poor soul this is a disgrace but it was my first fic so i refuse to orphan it, and the teletubbies followed
help, i was forced to write this and i’m sorry, i don’t even know what to call this monster, the southern pansy, aziphrale, the prince of hell, and the archangel gabriel
angst, satire, this is not serious, it’s meant to be funny
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DO NOT TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY, IT WAS WRITTEN BY THREE HIGH THIRTEEN YEAR OLDS.
this is what you’ve been waiting for and hoping would never come
hearing voices, broken bones, emotional manipulation,
live, work, play, a simple life, protected, until a stranger comes.
i can’t give you a summary of the plot. that would ruin the story.
the eternal rioting continues as it always will (part one)
the eternal rioting continues as it always will (part seventeen.)
let me know if i forgot to tag anything!!
blame the painkillers. i blame the painkillers.
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cominy-kiwami · 1 year
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the man in white and the soldier who saw everything twice were some damn heavy chapters to put back to back.
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ziracona · 1 year
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I love that I originally assumed ‘it doesn’t matter who wins as long as Xavier loses’ would be a niche Wednesday take, but there’s apparently a devoted tag full of it
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